pleated sandwich bags

I wanted to write something great, so that you all would know how great and powerful i am here at school, but truth is it's all a show and most of the aspects in my life lately have been less of an eloquent balancing act and more of a rushed and chaotic frenzy. I need to get back on top of things. Yes all of my work and organizing are getting done, but something has just been off. I'm so cold and so tired of being cold with no one to curl up with. I'm tired of not being comfortable in my home. All I want is to rest, and I can't yet. Hopefully soon. 

So instead on this so very domestic of a morning having baked many muffins and cleaned the kitchen, I'll let Neruda be eloquent for me. 

Druante el largo invierno algunas misteriosas lagrimas

caen de sus ojos de cristal y se quedan por sus mejillas

sin caer. La humedad concentrada dicen los escepticos. 

un milagro, digo yo, con respeto...

Pero por qué llora?

"Throughout the long winter

mysterious tears roll from her glass eyes

and lie on her cheeks, not falling. 

It's just the damp, say sceptics

A miracle, say I respectfully..

But why does she weep?"