If I lay here, if I just lay here

The sun is showing a little more often now, but it isn't exactly spring yet. On early mornings waiting at the bus stop, or even at the late stretches of night when I'm fumbling with friends as we walk out of the bar, the coldness of winter still lingers around like as if it isn't ready to depart on its own will. For a change, the snow has said its last goodbyes, but to only lure in the rain in its place. I'm still afraid its going to snow just one last time, but that's just me fearing things that never materialize. It'll be quite soon once more before I finally start to gather those inevitable feelings that always arrive when you begin to sense that spring is in the air. The kind that slowly and carefully brushes upon you and finally envelopes you in one leap of yearning embrace.

...the feelings of youthful naiveness, the vibrancy of wanting to live forever, letting loose like roman candles in the night's sky...

...the climactic emotions that comes with making eye contact with the coy girl in the garden through sheer accidental timing...

... and the perfect symmetry in thoughts when finding yourself standing underneath a whirlwind of cherry blossoms.

Spring isn't here yet. I know it, but I'm waiting. Its been dawning on me that this time of year is Red House Painters season. Been listening to a lot of them lately when no one's around, so I can blast it up to mid volume on my iPod with headphones and lay on the bedroom floor, staring up at the ceiling and window like a late winter dreamer ( the way it should be with that kind of music).

My mind has been drifting towards elsewhere except for here lately. A little bit of it is looking westwards past the Cascades and some more of it looking southwards towards San Francisco. I think it's because of the lack of chilly sunset walks on the beach and the smell of evergreen or even the taste of fresh seafood thats throwing me off. Its going to be almost 30 months at the end of February since I've moved here from Seattle. It's strange to think I've been living here in Pullman for 3 years now. For most of my waking life, I only knew Seattle as a home and was happy when on a whim I decided to move east to Pullman and attend Washington State University. I have no regrets, but eventually I'll need to see the seasons again and allow myself to be bitter at the weather taking too long of a time to transpire into spring and not at anyone/anything else.

Thoughts keep biting at me right at this moment...