tenlittlebullets | (no subject)

I've figured out one of the things about this place that depresses me: nothing smells like anything. The dining hall smells like fried food, my house smells like mildew, and that's it. It's utterly bizarre and somehow really depressing to be wandering around a beautiful October landscape crunching dried-up leaves beneath your feet and smell... nothing. No autumn smell of crushed leaves and smoke, no water smell from the pond, nothing from the woods, no freshly-mown grass, just... nothing. I know it's not my nose; something about this campus is just deadened and empty even when the whole place isn't blanketed in snow. It's pretty but it has this air of unreality to it because one of my senses is just completely disconnected from what it should be sensing. There are wrecking crews here demolishing a few older buildings to make way for the new student union facility and for some reason when they came the air smelt of gunpowder... and I just sat there outside after class, taking in lungful after lungful because, well, the smell of gunpowder is nice, but mostly it was so something after all that nothing that I couldn't walk away. Is that so odd--to stay there drinking in the smell of explosives like Charlie with his face pressed to the gates of the chocolate factory?

I think I want to go home. Rake leaves, go walking by the river, sit outside after it rains when the air is so thick it presses on you. You can smell it at home. Not here.

Enough. This entry is close enough to an angst attack all by itself.

New icon.

mhari is love.