dj917:

feeling a little unloved and lonely. I hate how one text can change my entire view of everything. :/

You know, I usually don’t like to have reblog conversations, but I’m in a strange mood today and you seem like a really sweet, lovely girl. So I just wanted to tell you that it seems pretty obvious to me that you’re anything but unloved, and that yeah, lonely happens sometimes, but at least it makes you appreciate company more, right?

C’est un large buffet sculpté ; le chêne sombre,
Très vieux, a pris cet air si bon des vieilles gens ;
Le buffet est ouvert, et verse dans son ombre
Comme un flot de vin vieux, des parfums engageants ;

Tout plein, c’est un fouillis de vieilles vieilleries,
De linges odorants et jaunes, de chiffons
De femmes ou d’enfants, de dentelles flétries,
De fichus de grand-mère où sont peints des griffons ;

- C’est là qu’on trouverait les médaillons, les mèches
De cheveux blancs ou blonds, les portraits, les fleurs sèches
Dont le parfum se mêle à des parfums de fruits.

- O buffet du vieux temps, tu sais bien des histoires,
Et tu voudrais conter tes contes, et tu bruis
Quand s’ouvrent lentement tes grandes portes noires.

Arthur Rimbaud.

Some friends, two bottles of champagne and a whole bunch of cupcakes later, my roommate is officially an NYU graduate. Not technically, since she has to take finals, but still. Seeing her in the ridiculous purple toga and helping her put in bobby pins to hold the cap (what’s up with that anyway? You Americans have weird traditions) made the reality of her leaving very immediate. Same with my other early graduates, and with one friend who wasn’t going to graduate early but decided last minute to do it because he got a job working with Sotomayor - he’s moving to Washington D.C. in ten days.

I knew what I was getting myself into when I applied to colleges abroad. I knew that, if they didn’t leave now, I’d be leaving them in May anyway. But May felt far away still… because of this, it doesn’t anymore.