there is so much to say. And, at 2 a.m., i feel like saying it all. Nina Simone is serenading me, after another ridiculously talented musician serenaded me 10 minutes ago (Brian Capobianchi. Check him out.), and life is amazing.

I keep on sending messages to my past self. My 12-year-old, angst-filled self, my twenty-something overwhelmed self, my not-even-2-years ago broken hearted, life-is-worthless, perpetually saddened self. I keep telling myself to hold on, that life will get better. That I have this to look forward to.

I have no misconceptions that life will be perfect, or that this feeling will continue. But I do know that I love who I have become--I have loved that for a while but now I feel like who I am and what I'm doing coincide. That I'm actually where I'm supposed to be for the first time in forever. That this is the life I'm supposed to be living. Roommates yawning in the room next door, dogs and cats abounding, people in and out of my apartment and my room, meeting new people every day, and most importantly

giving artists a place to create.

Gosh i have so much more to say. Ridiculous amounts of words. But I need to go to bed so that I can wake up tomorrow and go to my day job. Which is also great, in its own way.

Closing:
When I was 14 and on swim team, I had this one after school practice where all I thought was "How strange. How incredible and unique to be me--14 and in a pool, in suburban Illinois, watching the lines move on the pool floor beneath me, dealing with teenage situations. How strange to be who I am, in this particular situation, right at this moment." I captured that moment in my memory forever. I remember the taste of the water and feel of the suit on my shoulders and the way the water felt on my back. That the lighting was tinted green and my hair pulled at my scalp under the cap. I remember nearly everything about that moment. And also remember feeling outside of it.

And now, how strange to be me--nearly 30, living in Hawai'i, surrounded by art and unpacked clothes, musicians sleeping on the floor, hippies from Alaska playing chess in the early evening, newly painted kitchen(ish) area, cold night air after a rain. How unexpected to be living in Chinatown and smelling cardboard boxes filled with ripe fruit on my way to work, to have spent a night listening to amazing poets that know my name, to be ME, in this life. In this century, in this world. How amazing life is. How ridiculous time is.

I think I always knew life was worth living. I mean, self-evident in some ways unless you're in the thick of things. But to actually taste this beauty... it's amazing.

Mahalo ke Akua.