Feeling Sentimental
I don't often get very sentimental, but my heart is simply filled with love right now. I do love this place, and I do love these people. And I do love that place, and I do love those people. I've realized that no matter where I go, I will always be missing something and someone else. But I'm okay with that. I'm okay with leaving bits and pieces of my heart scattered about, because what good is a whole heart, not shared, kept to itself and alone?
Culture Cravings
I have never been especially in tune with my Ukrainian heritage - as a child detesting Saturday morning Ukrainian school, resenting learning the language, pleased that my features are more "American" than Slavic - but I've noticed that, at random times, I experience what I can only call culture cravings.
Growing up, at school or in the community, I never associated myself with "the Russians" (as all Slavics were lumped under one label) because they were an embarrassment. They dressed funny, talked funny, almost always had a poor reputation of being shady, judgmental, and haughty. They looked down at Americans, refusing to accept the fact that by immigration, or for many even by birth, they themselves were Americans. They disgusted me and I didn't want to be associated with them but in rejecting these specific people and their specific flaws, I rejected the entire culture.
But now that I'm so far removed from it, I miss it. I didn't fully realize it for a while, but I would find myself actually speaking Ukrainian to my parents when they called (as opposed to English, how I usually conversate with them) or listening intently to the documentaries in history class when they interviewed Russians or Poles, wanting to catch just snippets of a familiar dialect. When Angela came to visit in the fall, it was so refreshing to watch Everything is Illuminated and laugh at the jokes, to flow between languages in a conversation (because sometimes you just need a good "аж ну" or "ти шо, з дуба впав?"), and yes, I'll admit, to actually cook vareniki. It just felt nice. It felt nice to be near something that is so familiar, something that I never would have imagined that I would find myself missing.
I call these feelings "culture cravings" because I don't know what else to label them. I'm surrounded by a predominantly white American student body, in which the average person knows a single language, and sometimes, it just gets tiring. My tongue randomly gets tied up and I want to blurt out a Ukrainian phrase but no one would understand, or I find some Slavic joke or comparison amusing but no one would get the reference. I find myself craving culture - my culture, the culture that I spent so many years rebelling against and rejecting.
I guess this is what is called growing up.
Growing up, at school or in the community, I never associated myself with "the Russians" (as all Slavics were lumped under one label) because they were an embarrassment. They dressed funny, talked funny, almost always had a poor reputation of being shady, judgmental, and haughty. They looked down at Americans, refusing to accept the fact that by immigration, or for many even by birth, they themselves were Americans. They disgusted me and I didn't want to be associated with them but in rejecting these specific people and their specific flaws, I rejected the entire culture.
But now that I'm so far removed from it, I miss it. I didn't fully realize it for a while, but I would find myself actually speaking Ukrainian to my parents when they called (as opposed to English, how I usually conversate with them) or listening intently to the documentaries in history class when they interviewed Russians or Poles, wanting to catch just snippets of a familiar dialect. When Angela came to visit in the fall, it was so refreshing to watch Everything is Illuminated and laugh at the jokes, to flow between languages in a conversation (because sometimes you just need a good "аж ну" or "ти шо, з дуба впав?"), and yes, I'll admit, to actually cook vareniki. It just felt nice. It felt nice to be near something that is so familiar, something that I never would have imagined that I would find myself missing.
I call these feelings "culture cravings" because I don't know what else to label them. I'm surrounded by a predominantly white American student body, in which the average person knows a single language, and sometimes, it just gets tiring. My tongue randomly gets tied up and I want to blurt out a Ukrainian phrase but no one would understand, or I find some Slavic joke or comparison amusing but no one would get the reference. I find myself craving culture - my culture, the culture that I spent so many years rebelling against and rejecting.
I guess this is what is called growing up.
Feelings
"Feelings are stupid," I muttered.
"Not if they're with the right person," he replied.
I still have my doubts.
"Not if they're with the right person," he replied.
I still have my doubts.
Keeping Time
Breathe in - breathe out, count
one
two
three
and I don't care anymore.
Breathe in - breathe out, count
one
two
three
and I don't know you anymore.
one
two
three
and I don't care anymore.
Breathe in - breathe out, count
one
two
three
and I don't know you anymore.
Wants
I just want to be done with this semester, but I don't want my time here to end. I just want to know what you're thinking, but I don't want to tell you my thoughts. I just want you to forget about me, but I equally want to be remembered. I just want to be stubbornly strong, but I'm a lot weaker than I care to admit. I just want to go somewhere and think, but here there's nowhere to be alone. I just want to laugh it off, but it's much more annoying than humorous. I just want to cry a little, but tears never did any good. I just want to ignore you so that you can get a taste of your own medicine, but I always cave. I just want to be able to sleep, but something is keeping me up.
Conversations
"How did you remember that, when I even didn't till just now?"
"Because I love you."
"He'll get over it."
"I just had a really uncomfortable conversation with my parents about Coachella..."
"What did you even see in him?"
"Aw you have a conscience, that's cute."
"Be happier!"
"The real slim shady?"
"You can be really cold sometimes."
"Summer time is like boot camp for my liver."
"You alive?"
"I just wanted to remind you that I love you a whole lot."
"Isn't it your job to make me feel better?"
"HOLY SHIT my mind is fucking blown right now - I'm a cat!"
"In between flashing each other and talking shit, we have some pretty deep moments."
"Boys...even when they're not a problem, they're a problem."
"Our talks keep me sane."
"I just feel so surrounded and suffocated but so alone at the same time."
"If I bake you cookies, will you love me forever?"
"You upset me."
"I upset myself."
"You're quite beautiful. It's silly to think you won't measure up."
"We're sneaky little bitches."
"Because it means being vulnerable. And I can't stand that. I've taught myself to be strong and not let anything get to me, so wiping that defense away is terrifying."
"Because I love you."
"He'll get over it."
"I just had a really uncomfortable conversation with my parents about Coachella..."
"What did you even see in him?"
"Aw you have a conscience, that's cute."
"Be happier!"
"The real slim shady?"
"You can be really cold sometimes."
"Summer time is like boot camp for my liver."
"You alive?"
"I just wanted to remind you that I love you a whole lot."
"Isn't it your job to make me feel better?"
"HOLY SHIT my mind is fucking blown right now - I'm a cat!"
"In between flashing each other and talking shit, we have some pretty deep moments."
"Boys...even when they're not a problem, they're a problem."
"Our talks keep me sane."
"I just feel so surrounded and suffocated but so alone at the same time."
"If I bake you cookies, will you love me forever?"
"You upset me."
"I upset myself."
"You're quite beautiful. It's silly to think you won't measure up."
"We're sneaky little bitches."
"Because it means being vulnerable. And I can't stand that. I've taught myself to be strong and not let anything get to me, so wiping that defense away is terrifying."
Distance
They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder, but no - no, this isn't true. Distance simply gives a delusion of fondness. The further away you are, the more appealing it (whether it be a person or place) appears. The faults and shortcomings shrink, producing a false portrayal of perfection. Your memories trick you into viewing it through a more pleasant, more loving, more joyful filter, making whatever your current state is seem so incredibly dull and ordinary.
The mind loves to play its tricks, always teasing with skewed nostalgia, always making you want something that is no longer (or not yet) within your reach. Distance does not make the heart grow fonder; it tricks the heart into fondness.
The mind loves to play its tricks, always teasing with skewed nostalgia, always making you want something that is no longer (or not yet) within your reach. Distance does not make the heart grow fonder; it tricks the heart into fondness.
Thankful
It's amazing how your whole day can be changed by something so simple as talking to an old friend. I hadn't talked with Tim for several weeks and this short hour that we just got to Skype was exactly what I needed. I don't even have the right words to say - it was just as if a wave of fresh air, relief washed over me.
God bless whoever invented Skype and God bless my best friends. I'd be drowning without them.
God bless whoever invented Skype and God bless my best friends. I'd be drowning without them.
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