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Ways to fall. . .according to Radiolab. . .

That seems ridiculously overestimated. . .but at the same time, I totally believe it, especially with the way nearly everything I do feels like it could be or should be described by or along side of that word. Fall.

Every other routine action--out of bed, in the shower, down the stairs, to class, back into bed--I'm falling. Every other metaphor for how I see my situation--in a well, through black space, into a trance, down--I'm falling. Every other feeling, worry, realization, or emotion I have--ill, off the radar, apart, short, through the cracks, out with, over, under, catch me I'm (such a good soundtrack)--I'm still falling. And, of course, this past weekend I fell once more (because clearly I'm not doing it enough), back through time, no less.

It's sort of weird to consider, I think. . .falling. . .no matter what the meaning of it. Because people almost always know what you mean regardless of the context. It's a feeling of no control. And of not always being certain if that not knowing is good or if it is bad. And I'm not sure we ever really figure it out until it's over. Even with things like falling in love (which seems to be one of the only most common types of falling I'm not experiencing, but I think I need to be thankful for that since it can really only end in more disaster for someone like me) and falling off of a building, which appear easily classified as good and bad respectively (unless you're me and falling off of a building or the like sounds unsettlingly attractive), you can't really be sure until it's over. Until you've found true love or had your heart broken. Until you've survived somehow or died somehow (and it's still anybody's guess which of those outcomes is best).

And I guess that's what's so frustrating right now. Not knowing. Not knowing anything or if I know anything or when or if I'll ever know anything. And it's crazy because this. . .this nothing I know. . .this nothing I feel, am, see, have, want, need for sure. . .it's so much. That makes no sense. . .

Okay. . .okay. . .this is getting too hipster now (see also). . .I hate having so much trouble making sense of what's happening with me. Bah, humbug. . .

Falling out,

-Daisy

PS - So good to know, Vi, really. . .just wish I were sure that this is a permanent setup, if you know what I mean. Don't feel bad though. Also, I'm sure if you just keep snapping your bagels and being yourself, someone will show you that it's not too much to ask for someone to love you. Until then (and after, of course), I'll be here, loving you in the way that's not quite what you need, finding you so beautiful. . .you know. . .