Star rambles

I thought they were leading us out into the desert to die.

I was right.

Except that I'm obviously still alive and well, which means that you should probably ignore those first two lines. In fact, I highly recommend making good use of that red X in the corner of your screen, and saving yourself a very confusing five minutes. Because I am so far out of the range of reality and into the hyperbole part of my mind, at this moment, that it could get pretty incomprehensible very quickly.

The desert, by the way, was incredible. It was so cold that I got to wear my heinous massive fluffy green sweatshirt, courtesy of Camp Mohaven and the poor color choices of the staffers. I look like a giant seasick marshmallow in that sucker, and I love it. The thing is like a hug that never lets you go, and I was so happy to be in the cold, and marshmallowed up, that I might have danced a little bit in the dark, hoping nobody would notice. Because let's face it, white girl got no moves. No real moves. Oh, I'm a lot of fun on a dance floor, with some swing music kickin' in the background, but freestyle? So white.

But anyway, I was talking about the desert, before I sidetracked myself with my hoodie that I love so very very much (this is really turning out to be a random post), but seriously--the stars were so bright. I've only seen them that way once before, that road trip my freshman year where we camped in the desert on the coldest night I've ever known, when I realized that yes, the stars actually twinkle. It was a revelation, it was--I'd always thought the twinkle was an artistic exaggeration. But anyway, Friday night, the stars were so present. The Milky Way, the trail of the gods, was so bright, and I laid on my back, wishing I could follow it forever.

I love moments like that, ones where I realize all over again just how big the universe it, and how small I am. That all the things I take so seriously, like my grades, my future, my choices, are really so insignificant. But once, a human just like me made a choice that affected every single one of those bright points of light. There's that connect between myself and all the rest of the galaxies out there, and I love the moments where I can feel it.

I could feel the granite under my fingertips, lying there. I love touch--I'll be walking along, and run my hand over a tree trunk, or rap my knuckles against a post, wall, or door--I stop and actually smell the roses. Life is so full when you use every single sense. This is perfect, Abi, I whispered. Thank you. He might or might not have sent a wink into my heart, but I rather think he did.

I missed all of you. I can stumble through a desert at night, and fend off ferocious maurading bats, and listen to awesome guitar music, and watch the sky forever alone--but I wish you were all here. That seems like a pretty good way to end this post that has made me seem more ADHD than I should ever feel.