My feelings towards the castle have changed from aching nostalgic desires to be there instead of where ever I am into a more wistful sense of remembering. I'd love to go back, obviously, but the circumstances would have to be almost the exact same as when I was there the first time; instead of needing it, like most of us have felt since we returned to the States, I think I've reached the point where it's fun to look back on but I no longer feel as if things could never be better than then. Maybe I'm finally getting over it/growing up, or maybe I'm putting too much faith in how LA will be. I don't know.

I really should put my photos on Flickr.

Spring 2009 castle kids: Single Ladies dance

I've lost it.

Words have failed me. I don't know how it happened, or when. All I know is that blank pages used to be empty with possibility and I dreaded them a lot less than I do now. Creativity and promise used to mix with the blood in my veins. Now all that's in there is coffee and some nostalgia combined with the want for European cities and gelato. I think I stopped believing in reality when I was at the castle, because we all were focusing on the present instead of the future. I've never gotten over that. It was a semester of self discovery and perfection that was cut short and ended with sleepiness and impatience in an airport in Detroit. One three month period of clarity that stands out in the years of discomfort and "ugh, shoot me now"s that seem to define specific weeks in Boston. This is the week that everyone is unhappy and everything goes wrong; the last thing I want to concentrate on right now is schoolwork, and the blank pages my papers are supposed to be written on are screaming at me because I haven't started. When I was four, I wanted to be a writer. That continued until I was nineteen, and now I stay away from it as much as I can. I've lost the ability to concentrate. My want for anything un-material is almost gone; I've stopped craving love and friendship and now only want to buy shoes, dresses, television on DVD, and books. Maybe a few more pillows to fall into and rest on. Continuous plane tickets to elsewhere. Everything I want to see and do has a monetary value. Paris for 900, Barcelona for 800, New Zealand for 1300, Dubrovnik for 1000. The dots on Orbitz's website blink in time to the Jason Mraz song softly coming out of my speakers, but don't help. Our name is our virtue.

Castle.