If only. . .

I'm blindly optimistic: and I question the world as if I were living in heaven all this time and was completely ignorant of all the hatred and competition.

If I could be good enough if I didn't know anything important,
if I wasn't cheerful,
if I didn't smile,
if I wasn't witty,
and I wasn't loved for learned responses mixed into my personality,
and my hair looked terrible,

then it might be super hard to trust anyone.

summer days

Yesterday I got to see Will, who had come in from NY for a bit, and to my pleasant surprise, I got to spend the day in Canton with more friends.
I also received a small sketch book for my birthday from Will, one that I can carry around. I would like to journal in sketches. Maybe I'll look at the entries in my journal and try to sketch whatever that entry reminds me of. Lets hope it doesn't consist of stick figures.