Sometimes I just get really sad. Usually, like right now, it happens when I'm sitting in Lamont Library trying to do reading. This small, cramped, very unaesthetic (don't know if that's a word) building gives my thoughts no room, my head has no room to breathe. I feel squeezed into this building with low ceilings surrounded by many other Harvard students chugging away. And then my mind begins to roam, and it inevitably goes back to home and summer, and in my mind's eye I am reliving wonderful moments - a delicious dinner with my whole family on the deck on a balmy summer night, a friend's smile as we're walking down the streets of Berkeley on a sunny day, a profound and gentle kiss leaning against his car late at night under stars...

I often wonder if I were in a small, cramped, very unaesthetic library at Berkeley would it be any easier for my thoughts to find their space? There is a question of the importance of place that has come up often in my Folklore & Mythology class on Continuing Oral Traditions of Native Americans... many people are not aware of their physically spiritual connection to a place, a location, but who we are is inherently tied up with where we came from and where we are. For Natives, and I cannot ever speak with complete authority on this topic as an outsider, their cultures are greatly tied into setting and landscape, their stories stretch into beings from them, they are very much a part of the land. And now they are outsiders? On land that was initially theirs? What does that do to one's sense of identity and belonging? Many Native people do not consider themselves American, they are of a different nationality and believe to have autonomous states, but their land, their territory was stolen from them - again, what does this do to a person's sense of self? Their nations are not recognized, they have no land of their own. Ok, this is tangential and a rant, but it's frustrating, it's unfair, and it will never be righted.

Life has been incredibly busy the past couple of weeks. On top of midterms and papers there have just been lots of events, which means late nights, which means not enough sleep, which means I'm getting sick, which is not good. And it's all been SOOO much fun, I've been having a great time, and I'd rather be busy than bored, but in the midst of chaos such as this I often begin to feel a little empty. Which is why now I'm writing about being homesick and ranting about Native land issues.

There's that cliché idea of feeling alone in the middle of a big city, and I think that best describes how I feel amidst this busyness and fun - somehow I still feel a little lonely and missing home. Maybe this is when it creeps up on me most, right when I'm getting into the swing of things it just decides to pounce and remind me that this is not my home, this is not where I can draw my strength and find my balance.

I think my issue is just that I need to find my missing piece. The root of my loneliness is the lack of a significant other to pour my excessive amount of love into.

In other news, it's a beautiful, sunny day in Cambridge, MA.