clunky metaphor that needs some sort of tag I don't have

I need to remember that I'm not the only kid in town with a baseball glove, and that no matter my insistence in acting as though I live in a vacuum, I actually don't.

(no subject)

Looking back over last summer's posts, as well as being out by the stream today at lunch made me realize that sometimes, I need time away from the person-world. The thought that bubbled up as I sat and listened to the water was I like the me that comes up out here. There's something that is easier to acccess (hopefully, not exclusively accessible) away from people. I think differently, feel more confident and sure. My symbolic system is more apparent, more available, as is my connection to ... the things I have trouble naming. I need to remember to get this time, and not overlook the very real need, in the rush of realizing I like people and need things from them, too. I'd like to find a way to bring the me I experience free of person-world back into person-world, to be able to be a more consistent me that I like more often.

(no subject)

I cry whenever I have more than a few moments alone with Boris. I know his time is limited, and knowing that puts deep cracks in my heart. He's been my best friend and constant companion for almost seven years, and I can't imagine life without him in it. I worry that I haven't been as good to him as I could have, should have, and want to make up for all past slights, oversights, and moments of selfishness. I worry that he doesn't know how much I love him, and that I won't be able to make that clear in the time remaining. I worry that I'm mourning him now, instead of cherishing every second. I wish desperately that I could do more for him, and have him know it's out of love, not guilt or obligation. I feel like it's bad of me to cry, now, and instead should be being warm and happy with him.