im having a meltdown.  well maybe just a minor one. but still.

as we say here at mcat camp, im fusing with... well, life.

picture it. casual study break. hands shaking from applying exorbitant amounts of force over the small point of my pen.

last night, i walked out of target after stocking up on more whiteout and caffeine to a beautiful sliver of a moon, pillowed by an intensely dark azul sky above the rugged charcoal outline of the mountains. or flatirons. or whatever we have here in boulder.

it was amazing.  its so unbelievably beautiful here that i forget about running out of breath every time i spring back to the dorms for a forgotten one thing or another.  it (between cartwheels, expertly symphonized tripods to headstands, and yoga) has kept me grounded, kept me from tearing out my head and going crazy in this complete immersion into la la Q = mcΔt land.

i mean thats an over exaggeration, right? Right.

but one little study break to browse through still unedited photos of the awakening of my little pomegranate dream and im back in my first bought of abroadsickness since graduation.

should i give myself a break? its only been a little over a month.  part of me feels like an incubating fetus ripped out of everything nourishing into the real world.  where i dont have a job, experience, or any type of useful skill to offer the world.

my spanish skillz have been replaced by the parabolic function of gravity, the corporative binding of oxygen to hemoglobin... is it oxygen?

i want to go back to go back to europe. i want to be able to steep in spanish language culture and come out more wrinkled than a raisin (did you know that wrinkling is due to the increase of water in the tissue? aka osmosis? the wrinkling is an evolutionary advantage... wrinkles = grip), spewing spanish as fluently as my own stream of thoughts. since my english doesnt make sense when it trickles out, i may have set an unreachable bar.

never in my life have i realized that my goal in life is on its way to be realized every day.  that i would take every single day of this hyperventilating-producing program over a few more minutes back in spain.

theyre both pieces to the puzzle.  but that's it, theyre just pieces.  they are pieces i found, to which i will soon master the correct geographical location and have them fit right in with all the other threads of my life.

man, life is a journey. its an overtired analogy but its just so truthful.

i may not have chosen the path laid out with cement, or maybe i did.  either way, slow and steady keeps me in line.