Do you ever pick up the phone, dial the number only to hear a constant dial tone? I feel that way about my Xanga. A meager attempt to connect and update with the people back home. It's no facebook, it's no creative blog. It's just my army green Xanga that always is a little more sticky than I think.
Do you remember the days when you would read my Xanga entries and know pretty much what I was talking about? Those were the days when everyone and their dog knew what was going on in my life. Yeah, those were the days. Writing was easier back then. I could carefully skew phrases and turn words, fooling with your understanding of what might have actually happened. And now I am presented with a challenge. People who read my Xanga aren't with me everyday. I can't just assume that you all can guess what's going on. Maybe that's why I have been so hesitant in writing. All I know is that to keep my Xanga alive and thriving I must be able to keep everyone who reads my lily pad colored page updated with my life factually as well as emotionally. But I must do that without the constant stream of boring stories and facts. The one thing that I like about my Xanga is that it has transformed from a preteen diary to an array of expressive entries; each one beautiful in their own quirky way. My Xanga made my writing what it is today and now it is time for the next step.
So, I'm at college, the next step. Everything's a bit harder. Everything is a bit rougher, tougher, and the bar set higher. Keeping touch, keeping everyone up to date, staying connected; it's all harder. You all know how hard it is to keep a conversation going online with me, so this is obviously going to be a challenge. May I ask for a little help? Keep me informed. Tell me when I need to call. Keep me in line. I'm going to need it because even after these two weeks I feel that I am already loosing touch. This is my attempt. My attempt at telling you how hard it is, telling you how hard it will be, and not to mention, my attempt at asking for help. Hey, it's better than a constant dial tone.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
hey its me. it's your little iz. I don't know how to do this Lina. I miss you so much so of course i choose the road thats easier, ignoring it. But lately I just can't. I'm not doing too good and thats the truth. I don't want to call because I'm afraid of interfering with this new life that you seem to be just getting the hang of. I just feel like I'm mostly in the way at this point. But that doesn't change the fact that I love you. a lot. Keep being you and never lose that smile
love,
iz
Lina. I miss you. And whenever I try to talk to you, I feel like I just end up bitching about life and thats not how I want things to be. I really hope that college life is fantastic and...I don't even know. I just miss you a lot and I kind of always felt more connected when you were around.
I love you,
Jules
Lina- I love you- the very funny, very honest, very sweet (yes, I said it) you. Just remember if you really have a conncection with someone it doesn't go away just because we don't know what you are doing every minute of every day.
Mom
Post a Comment