(I am large, I contain multitudes.)

Annie's last line has me thinking Whitman---goodly, glorious Whitman. So often his words echo my thoughts, and (through the silly-sad realization that I've never actually had an original idea) I revel in them. I celebrate myself, and sing myself. Early morning hours awake and alive have no comparison. I am satisfied---I see, dance, laugh, sing. The air bites but the sun shines; the world is open and humming. I believe in you my soul. I can handle it.

Today hasn't been much of an adventure as far as happenings go, but I feel excited about very nearly everything. The way my hair swept up into an easy French twist. How my heels click on the frozen concrete. When Professor Matthews shouted "yes!" at my comment this morning. Sincerity from one of my students, thanking me for showing him the light in Heart of Darkness. Chatting with coworkers, eyes alight in the fire of conversation. Coming to a conclusion without really thinking anything through: Waiting be damned. I am going to live. He'll catch up. Because I am amazing and lovely and every sort of color and I am brilliant and confident and I am true.

Yes, today I sing a Song of Myself, but to sing such is really praises for the masses. Because Leaves of Grass is just another way to shout Humanity! Because just as individual spears of grass make the green hill, so are we interconnected. Our differences point to our commonality. I am not alone. I am not the only one to ever have felt this way. I celebrate the part because I am part of something greater, something eternal.The epic is all I, I, I---but I think there's something to be said that it ends in you.

{Listening to the YTS Love Mix. Wondering how we got it so good.
Hoping everyone holds a piece of this happiness in their hearts.}