Cruelty makes its holes,
but on the shoreline,
time will make its promise.

- Stars 

-+-

"Christa, I can't imagine you sad."
"Hm?"
"You're just so happy all the time, I can't imagine you sad.  Wait.  Actually, yeah, I can imagine you sad.  Actually... I can imagine you really depressed.  Like, really just in a deep, intense depression."
".......What the hell was your train of thought just now!"
"You're just so expressive for everything.  For example, I'm starting to get used to all of your faces.  You have all these faces that you make for every single thing.  It's very 'you.'  I mean, you have the worst poker face I've ever seen, and you cry over trees.  You're really sensitive."
"..what the hell"

People have a lot more to say to and about me than I've ever expected.  It's weird to even conceive that people take the time to even think of me.  

There's stories about me circulating through the grapevine, stories that could have only diffused if I was the topic of the water cooler conversations.  For example, I would tell a story to only one person in the laboratory, then by that time the next day, everyone in the lab knows.  Promptly, I would call everyone up and go, "DUDE, I THINK THEY TALK ABOUT ME."

There are even opinions and thoughts forming about me that could only happen if people are taking the time to invest in my stories and my background, to actually take the care to ponder my mannerisms and to take interest in my interests.  For example, people actually look up my stem cell research to see what I do in the lab!  And this whole time, I thought I was just giving a nonsensical ramble that was equivalent to talking to myself, in one ear and out the other.  Like, even this whole Xanga, I still have really sincere shock when people reference to it or comment on it, because I get very, "...ppl take the time to read this?? O_O."

I still can't wrap my head around that.  I exist in other people's lives?  What?!  I've always perceived that once I'm out of your face, I'm out of your mind.  But apparently that's not always the case.  Damn.

The chatter about me is received with mixed reviews.  It used to haunt me to think of people talking poorly of me, but now I'm more geared towards, "WAIT, PPL THINK I'M EVEN WORTH TALKING ABOUT??? O_O!"  Because the bottom line is, I'm actually existing.  I'm impacting the people around me, enough that they think of me or even want to chat about me.  That very concept is something unreal to me.  My footprints aren't just being washed away by the ocean.

In other words,

SUPPPPPPP BITCHEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSS CHRISTA IN THE HIZZOUUSEE

Dude, does anyone say "hizzouse" anymore? ...I DON'T CARE D:

IT'S STILL COOL IN MY HEART