base

I am strange. I am one of the most spontaneous, random people you will perhaps ever meet. The other day, I fell in a fountain.  But I am a creature of habit, of needing a lot of pomp and circumstance before beginnings. Of needing to feel some sort of ceremony. I love my tiny rituals. 

The way I eat bananas. Split into thirds from top to bottom. Three tender curving triangles. as delicately chewed as possible to preserve their perfect graininess.

I like to find favorite spots, favorite stores, favorite feelings. I revisit these with unwavering affection, they are my anchored bouy in the evermoving, ebbing, flowing, sea of myself.  They are bastions against panic.
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My small superstitious tokens against the instability of never having permanent homes and entirely reliable families.


These tiny corners of fortitude are what allow me to be who I am. They are that which make moving whenever, wherever possible. They give me the assurity to jump in the fountain, feetfirst, and therefore fall on my butt, and soak myself entirely.

And when I am taking on a great thing (because returning to school with 19 credits is no small thing) I seek these bases for my context, so that I may safely venture out and play tag with my ambitions, and always have a place to sprint towards when breath is needed.

And so, this morning, I am here. Between the math and geosciences building. In the sun. Near coffee. Near people. In the midst of campus, so that my very presence here may act as a revolt against that which I fear.