End of the Year

This will probably be my last post of the year. I just got back to Dallas from St. Louis. The holidays were different this year because I was with the family less and the other cousins were gone from the main events. Though we stayed a day less than we thought, I was able to see Jeska more than expected. She met a bit of my family and I chickened out of meeting most of hers, though it sounds like it probably would have been a fun tipsy time. Seeing her in person after a year wasn't very awkward at all, which I take to be a good sign. I gave her a mix and took her to a fancyish French restaurant. It was in an industrial-looking side of town, like where the steel mill and soup kitchen would be, but behind the dull brick facade are lofts and Franco, the upscale eatery. We sat on one of the window benches so we looked like nobility eating and looking down upon the other diners. After a cheese plate, we shared a Moroccan vegetable stew and duck with potatoes and beets. If we could eat food like that every night, I'd be willing to sit in the window seat like a restaurant couple fixture. I also spotted a Mark Twain look-alike dining there. Then Jeska took me for iced cream where all the pretentious 20-somethings like to go. I don't think I've ever been with someone as openly interested in possessing me as her. It will be hard to wait the two-and-a-half months to see her during Spring break.
Oh, yeah, I also got a speeding ticket right when I entered Missouri. It was my first one and I didn't know what all I was supposed to say so I didn't get a warning. Basically cops just sucked some life out of me right before the holidays; I've never needed a cop before, they've always just been a hindrance.

Notes

Today I'm going through old textbooks to see about selling them to Half-Price Books and I found some notes in one. Here are a few:

Land taken from the Amazons and abandoned is being reclaimed, not by the same species but still serviceable habitat. Amazons aren't as fragile as thought.

Why are beaver dams good and human dams bad?

Do man-made lakes shift the weight of the world? Water that should be flowing isn't, thus weight.

Would there be life on Earth without a moon?

Culture is human adaptation.

Water on Earth may have come from comets hitting during early formation.

Lights

I still keep seeing those lights and atmospheric iridescence. Usually they're just points or spheres that appear, but I just saw a crackling of light almost like plastic wrap used on caramel apples shining in parts of the folds. It was in the corner of my vision so I turned my head to see it full on and it was gone and there was nothing there that was remotely reflective. Things are going on within my eyes. I feel like I'm breaching into something.

Holidays

I still feel uncomfortable with holidays, like they're a disturbance in my daily life. My gut says no and I'm just not able to bring myself to go to a friend's house to eat. I think it might have to do with knowing the people. If I have met and talked with people during a normal day, I probably wouldn't hesitate to be with the family on a holiday. I can't join in a holiday and meet people for the first time while eating their food and such. Yes, I know people probably don't mind and it's part of the holiday but I'm still put extremely on edge by it. There are so many things about holidays that agitate me, and I have the feeling that they are actually things about me that agitate me. I'm still to rigid about some things.

Muses

It's good and true that disturbance and emotional overflow are keys to creativity. Words, only the right ones, flow easily at these times because there is only time for the truth - if just the truth at that time. However, this being lightly touched upon, one cannot exist for any extended time in this particular state of creativity; one needs periods of peace. Like a plane in a strong storm, the wind can slowly peel plates away until the frame remains, and is too peeled away; like a sand castle in high tide, the water can touch and take a few grains at a time, melting the whole away. We must be careful with ourselves, as people and muses.

Dandelions in Winter?

I message Dandelion and she doesn't message back, but she reads the blog. Why don't you message back?

The Furnace, The Human Body

As humans, we stoke the fire which keeps our bodies moving, like coal to a train. I am the furnace which produces no soot, no accumulation. Logs are added to the stone bottom and they catch and vanish, leaving no trace. While it is not good to gather too much soot without sweeping the furnace out, it is equally not good to have so efficient a furnace that there is no residue. Without the residuals of fuel, there is little pay off, like putting money in a bank without earning interest. The soot from a furnace, after all, goes on to nourish a garden and bring further growth and prosperity.

Hospice

Jeska's mom was moved to a retirement home today for hospice purposes. Apparently it's more of a status than a place and retirement homes are good for it because someone can be on hospice for days or weeks on months. Just stopping at that broad thought, I had this idea about a person around my age who just signs up for hospice because, after all, we are all dying just at different rates. So the person goes into a retirement home and has adventures or something. It has a very Woody Allen/Curb Your Enthusiasm feel to it. Not that I mean to make humor of a serious event or anything.

The Setting Sun

As the winter sun went around the planet today, the sharpness increased and hit the buildings and trees and fences. It was a sharpness in light and in shadow; the light being brighter which caused the shadow to seem stricter. Everything had a light and dark side, down the middle, and the tips of trees (where the branches become very thin) appeared frosted like white specks. The scene looked like an example of chiaroscuro in some painting; something I don't want to forget but that a camera cannot capture.

Another View

Everything in the world, apart from humans, is innocent. There is no desire to harm for harm's sake - the world is like a barb, able to move forward but to try to go against the grain brings pain. For example, poison ivy doesn't want to cause discomfort, it is people that want discomfort placed onto us. Our lack of understanding or knowledge or will force us to harm ourselves. It causes a person to rub a plant the wrong way or treat most animals as if they were harmless attractions. It's true that animals and plants develop behaviors or mechanisms to help with survival, but it's up to the forces that act on them if the threat of harm is even necessary. I don't know, this was a before sleep thought last night and I'm just now writing about it so it doesn't seem as clear. I won't write pre-sleep thoughts as I get them, though, because it would keep me from sleep.

Finally the Week Ends

Even though it's just Thursday, it basically feels over; I even watched my weekend movie tonight instead of waiting. It was Blindness and I really liked the music and story, even though most of it was disconcerting. Then I started getting all these Sean Connery James Bond movies. He's my favorite.
Devin, Brandon, and Matt came for the week and left this morning. They did a lot of camping this time and browsed the city on their own. They went to the Sand Dunes and told me the condition of it during the Fall. It's really interesting how many faces that place has. We ate Beaux Jo's and they would have passed it over without even knowing it. That's the one pizza place everyone is told to go to when they first come to Fort Collins. Basically, we just had nights together because of my schedule, and we drank good beer (even though I usually hate it) and smoked their strange St. Louis weed and wild dagga and kratom and lots of stuff, and watched crazy kung-fu movies. I really didn't get to study for my weed test as much as I should have, but I feel pretty good about it - maybe a B. I really studied for the first test and only got an 89, but that was over more material. So now I'm totally pooped and I wasn't able to get the car totally fixed like I had hoped. Unfortunately when Autozone read the computer they cleared the lights, so I have to waste gas waiting for it to reset and turn back on so I can take it to the Toyota dealership. I don't understand machines, but I like using them.

Wolf Day

Today was a wolf sort of day. This is different than a Fox Day because it lacks underhanded intentions. Other than that, they might be very similar. Essentially, in every class today, I've felt physically sore and tired, like my body was a spring. And there was electricity in the feeling that set the hair on my body upright. I kept in a crouched position waiting for each class to end and this was especially trying in composition, waiting as the teacher explained things multiple times as if we were idiots (something which really grates on my mental state). I had the recurring daydream of transforming into a wolf and leaping out of class and running, just running, never looking back. It's a sort of physical vigor I don't feel often, something I imagine the spiritual use of the datura plant causing. I guess it has just been too long a period of sitting, staring at powerpoint presentations.

The Killer's Spirit

Today I practiced my killer's spirit/intention. On the way back to my apartment I saw a couple ravens, big ones, picking over garbage in the street. I walked toward them and made a hiss sound and they took off but only a foot away, as most big city birds do. Since they weren't in my way I kept on for my apartment, but noticed they were staring after me between pecks at the garbage. So I looked at them and stared in a particular way, more with thought then a physical change. Both birds went alight quickly, all the way to a distant tree where they still looked after me.

I recall reading about different ways of seeing and nonverbal communication, probably in a Castaneda book, so this was a neat experiment.

Baths

What I like about baths is the effect of the water over my body, the pressure and absence of pressure. I breathe in and my chest rises above the water and my hair falls like limp seaweed on shore. The cold and limp hair weigh together as a blanket holding me down. I breathe out and my chest falls below the water and my hair is puppeteered upward, the faint blue of the water cast over this tall-grass prairie growing on my chest.

A Boring Girl

"You're very conventional, aren't you? You should try to see the light in the things you shadow, and the dark lines that accentuate your light."

Today in composition we were going around the class describing the topics we had chosen, several of which would become group writing assignments for the rest of the semester. I thought more taboo topics would be picked since it's a "writing arguments" class, but I was the only one. Euthanasia.
People were generally interested in what I said, since several noted so online, likely because it's such an open-ended subject. But sitting to my right are two or so girls who entered on the first day of class sighing and talking about how much they already hated the class. So every time my topic was brought up in class discussion, one of the girls would say to the other, "that's such a depressing topic. I could never work on something like that for the rest of the semester. It makes me feel depressed."
I wanted to say something like: "I wasn't aware you became depressed so easily. Should we worry about you?"
It's unfortunate how conventional and boring some people can be. I say this due to a half semester of sitting next to her which I cannot fill this blog with. But this is the common view, death is a bothersome thing to talk about, especially with children who think they live forever. I mean I plan to live forever too, just not out of fear of the next adventure.
And then I remembered a quote which I would have repeated to her if she had a longer attention span:
"let children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed and as beautiful as life..."

New Mix

The shortest serious mix I've made. I wasn't sure if it was complete, but I think it probably is. I heard one other song I wanted on it, but forgot exactly which song that is.

http://8tracks.com/walking_daydream/i-want-your-attention

"I Want Your Attention. . . and affection."

01 Pilote - Turtle (Bonobo Mix)
02 Flight Facilities - Crave You
03 A-ha - Take on Me
04 Divinyls - I Touch Myself
05 Katie Herzig - I Want to Belong to You
06 The Whitest Boy Alive - Don't Give Up
07 Lykke Li - Little Bit
08 Mathemagic - Sequin (extra)
09 Moldy Peaches - Anyone Else But You

New Job

I came home last night and saw an email from the lady I met with about the job. Today I filled out paperwork finalizing my acceptance and now I have a job! I'm getting in at only $8/hour, but they're letting me stay at ten hours a week. Previously, since they were hiring me hourly instead of work-study, they were going to cut the hours down and probably pay less. It may be possible to get a pay raise (since lab techs usually get ten an hour on campus) next semester, but I'm not holding out on it.
So the job is with the short grass step LTER network, and I basically am sorting bagged samples collected this last summer. Rather than just grasses and forbs, I have to identify what the specimens are and sort them by warm season, cool season, etc. I start early Monday morning and they're already getting a key for me so I can work alone at some point after training. How fast!
I don't like having to be in class only all the time, and wish I could just go out and get a job already, so this is a good median.

Wyoming and Back Again

Friday morning I left with some people from the Range Ecology club to Wyoming where a professor-turned-assessor was doing private land monitoring and restoration. Friday our group looked around and got some of the natural history of the area and began learning some of the prevalent species. Saturday and Sunday we participated in monitoring riparian areas by doing cross-sectional plant community and land type descriptions followed by green line descriptions in the same fashion. Roy, the land assessor, showed us his transect method which involved 100m tapes and triple nested quadrats. The paperwork he used caught the data in the same way as the Southern Plains Network, but felt much more vague in the presentation, which I suppose is different because of the how the land is being used. It wasn't so much a study as grasping the area and figuring out how to make it more useful to cattle without detriment to land.
Unfortunately, one of the bigger guys in the group turned out to be a snorer and his bellowing woke me up multiple times in the night. Since we started with breakfast at 6:30, I didn't get much sleep. Tonight I hope to finish my work quickly and try to catch up again. I think after this week things will slow down a bit, which will be nice.
Wednesday I have a meeting with someone involved with the Short Grass Steppe-Long Term Ecological Research center on campus. I had heard about a lab position which involved learning characteristics of Northeast Colorado plants and the categories they can be separated into; so it's a lab job that seems to come directly after field work. It's a work-study position and the university has given out all that money, but the lady there wants me to come in to chat and then show me the lab. I'm not sure if it's a job interview, so I'll have to wait and see. It's a small weekly hour requirement but I've felt swamped as is with my classes and clubs. Extra money would be nice, though.

Good Phrasing

I really like the way this sounds so I'm putting it here to make it easy to find.

"I've thought about it and since you aren't able to decide between he and me, we must be evenly matched. I don't know what to do, but I don't like the idea of waiting on you if this is what you think because it probably won't go anywhere in that case. This doesn't mean I wont be waiting, I've been waiting my whole life; it just means I'll be waiting for nothing in particular."

New Mix

http://8tracks.com/walking_daydream/i-ll-miss-you

01 Album Leaf - Airplane
02 Yo La Tengo - Our way to fall
03 Caribou - After Hours
04 Cary Brothers - Blue Eyes
05 Charlotte Gainsbourg - Dandelion
06 Coconut Records - The Summer
07 Ray Lamontagne - For the Summer
08 Eric Clapton - Wonderful Tonight
09 Iron & Wine - Love And Some Verses
10 Fleet Foxes - Helplessness Blues
11 Coldplay- Talk
12 Death Cab For Cutie - Brothers On A Hotel Bed
13 Counting Crows - A Long December
14 Foo Fighters - Next Year
15 Pheonix - Long Distance Call
16 Robert Francis - Where You Came from
17 Kings of Convenience - Until You Understand
18 Helio Sequence - Shed Your Love

Prologue

I feel like I can only happily enjoy the Prologue when I drink.










Yet another famous one line post.

Lonely

The song of the day is "Terrible Love" by The National.

It seems almost a crime that someone who can make a friend so easily should be so lonely.

Garden Pixie

So the other day I was harvesting stuff in the garden for the produce stand and I saw a little figure moving in the sunflowers and raspberries. She was literally little, maybe around five feet and very thin. Her hair was cut short but she still had a pony-tail held by a green ribbon. I asked her name and she said Beck and never asked for mine. I started harvesting and suddenly she was putting stuff in the basket as well. What I found funny was how she put in one or two of something and moved to another part of the garden to harvest something else. Then she would be in the bushes eating raspberries, then gone to the orchard to see the apples, and back again with grapes. She mumbled when she talked and spoke to herself often. Her behavior was like watching a hummingbird; moving very quickly with changing interest. I said she was interesting and she declined.

Future Phase

I had a great dinner with Robyn Saturday night. The food was good; the conversation was funny. Then she reminded me we were supposed to go dumpster diving so we headed out for a place she said she knew, only she didn't know her way and didn't look it up before we left which irked my sense of destination. We arrived to find the dumpster totally sealed up with a pipe leading into it from the building. Diving was impossible. Then we tried Whole Foods, only their dumpsters were behind a fence and someone was sitting at the entrance; apparently you have to go late at night when everyone goes home. I was upset and kept going on about how we had set a goal we couldn't accomplish, as if it should have been easy. She went to her apartment and didn't look back. As I was falling asleep that night I realized my sense of urgency stemmed from the irrational belief that it was my last night, whatever that meant. One of my good friends here said it sounded like a disassociation of the mind, similar to what would be expected on a certain drug. I corroborated that I caught the extended moment when sleep is coming on and it sort of felt the same way. We never really came up with any explanation.

Another realization I had was on the current state I've felt being back in college. This last weekend felt like a repeating series of disjointed moments; in fact, this whole last week felt that way and it's beginning to feel like that's the theme of this semester. I am a wolf in winter with ribs pressing out against skin, senses heightened, looking for poetry or art or philosophy to consume. It's the liberal arts I'm starving for.

It was as if one's entire world were one long Sunday afternoon. Nothing to do. No where to go.

Today I watched the dance of two flying insects, whether in challenge or desire, in the glowing high-altitude sunlight. The rest of the day was a footnote.

The Psychopath and the Metaphor

I had this idea, possibly for writing. Imagine a psychopath who believed their own act of human emotion so much that they never believed they were a psychopath, which would mean that they began mimicry at a very young age before knowing what a psychopath is. And they have meaningful conversations with people and feel "love" and all, but then some instance happens which reveals the true nature behind them and the psychopath gets probed but they insist that the psychopath feels everything they talk about. And it comes out that they really didn't feel the true emotions and that they simple understood the bendings of language and created meaningful poetic lines that won people over.

Also, metaphors are a good protection or cushion against the world. A thick enough metaphor can surround and pad you against the true, bare blunt of things.

Interspecies

I suppose there's a reason individuals in a species go along with others of the like. Squirrels with squirrels, lizards with lizards, owls with owls. They have more in common, more possibilities. If an owl and squirrel thought they could be together, and the owls takes flight, the squirrel is left looking up at the other so free. A ground-dweller would have more in common with another ground-dweller; and the same goes for those who can fly. It would be unfair for the squirrel to cause the suppression of the cultivated abilities of the owl.

Mountain Man

Today I was a mountain.

Hopeless Romantic

One thing that has not, and probably won't, change about me is that I'm a romanticist. Emotion flows through me in such quantity that it flows over me. Like a fuse struck by too much power, with a POP, it all goes out. I often have to recharge because moments of overload are inevitable to those who feel too much. I'm fragile and hurt, lost and confused, lonely and longing.
The worst part about the mind is how it can create something so big that never existed; something true to only one person.

Ways Of Life

As I was working in the garden today, I could hear the sorority house across the street - the repetitious two-bar tune and the lyrics of any stereotypical cheer leading scene, how great they are and how everyone wants to be them. I couldn't see them because of the courtesy trees planted on the edge of the greenhouse property but I imagined they were all outside, standing in rows, heads held high.
On the other hand, I was bent over a raspberry bush; a simple act of collecting my food. I tried to picture myself in a situation of singing in front of a house and doing nothing geared toward my survival. Some guys rode bikes past me and said something scoffish. Could they put themselves in my position instead of paying five dollars for a small container of what I picked a half gallon? It is a status, showing that one doesn't have to go to the source. But the source is that of more than just physical sustenance.
And then a phrase came and went: I heard the echo before the call.

It's Kind of Like Me

I Know a Substance

One thing I've learned is that deals usually tend to fall through. When a substance is around, one has to arrange the budget to get as much as one can, because it could be the last. It shouldn't be so difficult. Were they sold in stores it would be fine, but now one has to rely on the seller who has constant connections, and those connections lead to dipping into your own supply because it's available. Those are the people with the most problems but they have to be dealt with anyway.

Once Upon a Time In My Life

There's nothing really to say. Drank and watched Rocky Horror for the first time, with a couple friends. I still am not sure what I watched but it kept me asleep with weird dreams until noon; not to mention the Bonobo I listened to at the same time. I really couldn't stomach the gin I bought, even though every other time I tried it it seemed fine. So I ended up passing what was left in the bottle for ten dollars which was taking a serious hit. I'd rather have the ten dollars to apply to a bottle of Frangelica or something, though, I think.
Rebekah posted the date for her senior recital, but I can't go because of how removed I am, spatially and temporally. I wish I could go see her though that probably won't happen until she's out of school in her own place.
I don't feel like doing anything; it feels like half the semester should be over already. I can't believe I'm already this burned out. It would be nice to have just started working my way more into the NPS after this summer, to be actually doing something and making some money. There aren't really any campus jobs I can do right now and I'm busy enough with clubs and homework as it is.
I think I'll just nail out a homework assignment today and smoke and eat ramen. Maybe cook something for the future tonight. Blah..

Relationships

I think relationships are two people, two wholes, coming together to create beautiful art together, rather than two parts hoping for a whole. It could also be two people coming together to face the world, to go against it, if must be. That would be preferable to facing the world on one's own.

Snippet

The only two people in an empty classroom...

Girl: That's when you know you've found somebody special. When you can just shut up and comfortably enjoy the silence.
Me: For some it keeps them going. Not me, I always prefer a good conversation.
Girl: Words are inert. They’re just symbols. They’re dead. And so much of our experience is intangible. So much of what we perceive cannot be expressed. It’s unspeakable.
Me: You're an interesting girl, aren't you?

Shower

In the shower I turned my head toward the curtain and felt the jet of water shoot into my ear, eliciting the same reaction from me as when a dog finds the opportunity to lick within my ear.

Many Firsts

Two nights ago I spent the night with my friend Andrew. First we went to one of his coworkers' house for some pre-"gaming" before going to some music venue at a club. They seemed like good people but, according to Andrew, they all have some nasty characteristics once you get to know them. I probably won't ever get to know them because of the scene they associate with, and because they are much older than me.
The club was a little strange to me since I've never been to one before. The music was too loud to talk over; they played some electronic music. Two people were painting off to the side, I guess as paid entertainment? I stood in front of the speakers at one point and it felt like I was standing and there was another me passing through me, forward then backward, reverberating. When I explained that to Andrew he said I should follow the movements of the reverberating me to dance. I never really feel like dancing, if you can call it that, so I just stood around feeling awkward. I was there for Andrew anyway, and don't plan on being in a place like that again. Once more I got the feeling I was being watched and I kept catching people looking at me right before they turned away. I know I've posted about people staring at me and I still don't know what they're seeing. Probably my uncomfortableness and how much I didn't want to be there.
We finally left and went back to Andrew's which has a cool room in the attic with tan walls and a slanted white ceiling to reflect light. The room contained two tables, an armchair, two beds and the walls were mostly bookshelves. The purpose of the night was to try DMT for the first time which is released when you're born, die and sleep. We did it at the same time and became paralyzed; we couldn't really speak or move, only look around. The room, for me, became divided into three separate rooms: the empty bed with a couple carved chairs and bookshelves, the bed I was on facing the computer desk, and the armchair Andrew sat in with the other table and bookshelves. The empty bed room became very stylized, colors warm and vibrant, like the back of some 1950s cereal box. I never looked at Andrew, but the plate on the floor with the painted rim became figures dancing in a circle, and in the mirror over the table I saw myself sitting perfectly still and then the reflection started looking around and moving while I stared. There was also a phase where the entire room became painted like a child's paint-by-number, colorful splotches of paint representing things. It was also a little like Andy Warhol's style. I also saw a membrane on the inside of the room coating the walls; it was a soft gradient blue. I mentally enlarged it by pulling a section of wall towards me and saw a pattern of connected pentagons with a thin black line in the upper half of each pentagon. I didn't enlarge it anymore to see what was inside the line. Perhaps because I noticed it, the membrane began decomposing and was soon gone. Andrew would later tell me he saw the same thing and a variation of the painted sequence. It was like we shared a conscious lucid daydream.
All in all, it was very short, like an abridged mushroom journey, as if all the scenes that would happen with mushrooms were stitched together to make one confusing moment in space and time. I felt like we had lost an hour but it was probably five minutes. For the amount we did to get that effect and with how much it costs, I probably won't do it again. Mushrooms are a lot cheaper and more open in length and content. I have to say, though, that for how short DMT was I remember it very vividly days later.

Then last night I was up for four hours or so making beet burgers and a big salad. There's so many different veggies in each, I'm excited to eat them. I also made two cans of hummus today with my freshly opened spices. I could taste a difference in hummus with the old spices at home and the new ones here. Hopefully everything I bought will last at least three weeks if not four because I did spend a lot on groceries. Fortunately, the organic garden club I am with is still producing food and I've been given permission to take what I need. One of the managers said he's been taking excess home over the summer and composting it because there was just too much to use. So maybe I'll have free organic foods until the end of September, weather permitting.

My First Apartment

I know you guys have been waiting to hear about my new living situation. It's been a real roller coaster of emotion and uncertainty so I haven't felt okay to post.

I got in to Fort Collins about 6:30 on the 16th. It was raining and everyone was acting like they didn't know how to drive. It's interesting; everyone will speed in snow but not know how to drive in the rain, and in St. Louis it was the other way around.
So I started checking in to the complex but with someone who doesn't normally check people in, so it wasn't until nine that I was fully checked in and I was basically told to figure out the papers myself.

The apartment itself wasn't what I imagined in my head. It's as if they wanted to give as much space as possible but compress it like tetris pieces; the whole things is more like an efficiency apartment. The living room is pretty neglected, containing matchstick furniture with cheap cushions. Other than that it's empty. My roommate keeps all of his stuff in his room, including TV.

Josh has been living here for four months. He was in the smaller bedroom (now mine) until his roommate left, then he switched to the larger room which is roughly twice as big and only thirty dollars more a month. He doesn't really cook but is healthy in the way he eats, though I think he forgets about his food since I had to throw out some moldy bread and sour milk. His facial hair is very sharp, sort of like a greaser or one of those old-time guys with curled mustaches. He wants to be a brewer even though his degree is in natural resources, and he has been working at one of the microbreweries. He seems to get free beer and he drinks a lot, the way I drink lots of water.

The building is two stories with living room and kitchen on the first floor and bedrooms and bathroom on the second. The bathroom is very compact like mine at home, but is a bland white with hospital lighting (the whole apartment has hospital lighting); it's not the sort of bathroom one would want to hang out in. Like I said, my room is the smaller one and I was hoping to be able to finally have a full size bed, but it took up almost half the room! There was no room for my bookcase or for me to access my closet so I had to switch it out for a twin. While it fits me, it kills my chances at cuddling or napping with someone which upsets me. There's a chance Josh will be moving in with his brother because he doesn't really like these college apartments, in which case I could probably take his room and get the full bed.

None of the buildings have AC and they aren't built to catch a breeze. Architecturally this is a very big no-no, you have to have one or the other. I'm not terribly disappointed, though, because I know most of the school year is basically like winter; but it's been a lot hotter and more humid than it should be so who knows.

Unpacking is going well. The bed has been switched and the internet will be reconnected to my room soon. It's difficult to grocery shop right now because I don't know exactly what I need on hand. I bought some boca burgers to hold me until I figure it out. I think Sunday will be my first cooking day with my appliances and I'll be making beetroot burgers! I rekindled relations with a lot of my friends from last year. Last night was a big drinking night and I never made it home, the smart thing to do. Tomorrow I may get together with a friend who has a lot of connections and see a music show and try some new stuff. I probably won't be getting home that night either.

I think that's all I can think of to write about for now. I think all of my emotional issues with how this apartment is stems from having a vision of coming to my furnished apartment and then the realization that I'll have to unpack overwhelms me. Also I've been spoiled my whole life in having lots of space to myself which I think is why I'm such a territorial person and have a hard time adapting to new smaller spaces.

Interchangeable

From different people I've heard the phrase "I don't want him/her out of my life." I don't exactly know all the situations that give rise to this statement, but I've thought about it in terms of myself. I wonder if there are people that feel that way about me. When I'm around people day-to-day constantly I get a lot of unsolicited interaction, but once I leave it seems like I'm always the one to send the first reconnecting message. It's not that I'm not memorable, people seem to remember me, but it seems like anytime I leave, those near me feel they have had their fill and don't need to chat anymore.
I don't think I'm particularly abnormal, but I also don't think there are too many people like me, so I can't be so replaceable that I'm not needed or sought after. I've always had a love-hate relationship with people and I'm usually picky about those I get close with, so I already have a small pool of people I really like; and then they move on and I'm left wondering if people ever don't want me out of their lives. There's sort of a disconnect where people aren't speaking openly about these things and the non-verbal meanings aren't getting through.

Snippet

"I have the Scott Pilgrim movie."
"Oh, that's a great one!"
"I like movies where the guy gets the girl, but it also makes me sad."
"Why is that?"
"Because they make it look so easy."

One Of Us

Will I ever have one of those faces?

High School Love

I just watched Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World, one of the movies I bought at Borders. Michael Cera movies aren't really my favorite but I really got into this one the first time I saw it. I think the visuals that accompany the music played in the movie sync up with what goes on in my mind when I watch music being performed. It's always some battle with one hero able to make things right and triumph. I guess that's what got me into it.
I also like the innocence in Scott Pilgrim, an innocent love like back in high school. That's probably my favorite kind of love, being in the moment day-by-day and having only one expectation, that the other will be in school the next day to see each other. I wish I could go back to that instead of having to meet new people in this older age.
I don't like that actors stop being the characters they play, outside of the movie. The characters were never real in the first place, I guess.

He Was the Sort of Person Who Felt Loss When a Tailing Car Suddenly Took Another Route

I went to Borders yesternight, one of the last in Dallas, probably. I kind of felt a little guilty being there, like a crow looking over the carcass and bones of some dead animal. That's what Borders is now, the name is resigned but the remnants of body linger as if decomposing. My looting of the body went well; the anime sections are picked clean but I found four cheesy movies (my favorite).

I've been consolidating my things so everything will fit in my car to go back to school. In one of my boxes I found a glow stick, one of those sturdy ones. I had found a twisty one earlier in another box but it didn't activate when I cracked it. So I assumed this one was too old as well, but it lit up when I cracked it and its only noon. I feel like I've wasted something good and useful and this is the only one I have. It kind of got me down.

Sometimes

Sometimes it feels like it should be an easy thing to make a living writing and doing odd jobs on the side, like helping neighbors build things or planting trees or gardening.

A Little Longing Goes a Long Way

Warm Places

Warm places:
the arm of someone driving with the sun on their side
a seat someone just left
the spot of the floor my dog was using
under the covers, plus a few minutes

Double Talk

I think that I usually have double meanings with the things I ask or say; it's sort of one aspect of my vagueness. Maybe by saying certain things I give myself an out, I can claim to have meant something else. I like to be vague and safe that way. On rare occasions, this double meaning is a way to get even, to insult. I'm not even entirely sure when I'm doing this until after it has happened. I don't premeditate my vague meanings.

Moving Wind

So one time in the field we were working and I heard a sound. It was a sort of hollow sound coming toward us and I saw the sound as a ball of wind moving across the field, which is saying something since all the grass was less than an inch high and crisp. So this ball of wind/sound moved and stopped with one of us at its center, then moved on across the field.

Later tonight, Chris and I met up with Tyler, who would have been the field leader if the grass and fire crew had stayed together this season. He had a few beers at a Mexican restaurant with bad service and some gin before walking to the movie theatre. Chris and I got beer at the grocery store to have during the movie. We watched Cowboys and Aliens and poked fun and Chris knocked over all his bottles. It was just a lot of fun.

Shit Show

Today was terrible. Since the new intern joined up with us yesterday I took that to be a good sign since he seemed to be good company. However, I didn't realize that having a third worker meant that things would change and she wouldn't keep out personal matters since she didn't really need me anymore.

We started off the day and were looking for the transect and our run with Fort Union has been pretty bad because so many rebar haven't been found and it was believed to be a mistake in the parameters of the GPS unit. So, of course, we couldn't find the first rebar and after a few minutes I commented that if we didn't find it we should call Tomye and ask what to do. So we went on looking and Chris and I started joking with each other about how the bars were never there, while we were looking. One of the jokes was "The Hardy Boys and the Case of the Missing Rebar" and I sent that to Tomye who thought it was funny.

Apparently, Tomye sent a message to Jill saying how much time to spend looking for rebar. At the time I was taking a little break near where the first rebar was supposed to be. Suddenly I hear this yelling and cursing; Jill was yelling at me to start looking again. So I started going again and Chris, who worked with her last year, said she had yelled at him a couple times last year and blamed it later on her diabetes or "girl thing." She's always making excuses and not just taking responsibility for things.

Eventually she came back to the original point after doing her 100+ meter radius (our transects are only 50 meters). She told Chris to start working and me to come with her to the car. That's when my stomach started hurting. She took the spare car key from me and basically put me in time-out by the car for that transect. The whole situation felt like a mom towards her son who had done something wrong. I told her I had only sent a joke and that I was only taking a break when she yelled. She told me to think about what I'd done and went to work, leaving me by the car without water.

The rest of the day I had a stomach ache and my hands would shake when I was around her. I knew that it was because of fear. I've been afraid of her most of the summer because of how unpredictable, and therefore dangerous, she is with her personality tweaks. I've never felt this afraid, though. Chris was a good guy and he couldn't believe all he'd seen.

I knew I couldn't trust her. She's overreacted before. This was just a terrible, depressing day and there's still a lot more to go. If she tries to put me in time-out again I'll call Tomye because I'm not fifteen and I'm here to work and I do good work and never let personal feelings interfere.

Runaway

Currently listening to:
So This Is Goodbye
William Fitzsimmons

I saw a jack rabbit today in the field. It was sized like a small dog and moved like a deer, several trots then a leap. It leapt away from me and a new intern that joined us (I like to think it was because the other intern was there) and stopped and looked back at us with those tall ears rising high above the grass. I imagined my spirit projecting out of me to run and play with that rabbit.

This Isn't Happiness

Why do I keep getting a fucking king sized bed when it's just me? Jesus Christ. I just want to go home and smoke and escape myself.

A Song

I saw an interesting music video today where a woman is tied up in a trunk and a guy is driving the car down some lonely country road, looking out the window. Eventually the car is stopped and the man lets the woman out of the trunk, unties her and hands over the rope. She then ties him up and puts him in the trunk. The video begins and ends with the woman tied up on the road with a piece of chalk drawing x's on the ground.

I read an interesting interpretation. It's a sort of love story, one-sided. The x's are what really caught my attention and a connection between the x's and exes was made. An X is two lines which are separate until they meet at one point and then separate. There is a switch: each half of the X seems to be one of the people and each half is a one-hearted situation; the woman feels for the man while he remains ambivalent, until the meeting of the lines when the roles switch and the man falls for her while she becomes distant.

I just like the description of the X. It's a nice idea even though it ends in separation.

Flowers Are People Too

"Pain surrounded us shortly after we met. After a while the pain was mine alone."

----

I don't like it when people pick flowers off plants that only put out one flower or if there are few of the plant actually flowering. The reason I don't collect flowers is because there is nothing anyone can do to a flower after it has been picked to make it as beautiful as it was the moment it was noticed in the wild. I've tried; it doesn't work. The only flowers I get are the ones that have already fallen and I never keep them. I once had a bouquet of cut flowers and when they all died I took them outside and buried them. That's how it should be.
In the field today, there was one indian paintbrush blooming in the area and Jill picked the flower. I was so angry with her that I didn't talk or make eye contact the rest of the day out there. It really is one thing to love nature and another thing to love it to its detriment. One of many habits I don't like about that woman.

Quote

I am an expert at speaking while barely saying a word; I’ve been speaking without saying a word all my life, and have endured whole inner tragedies without saying a word.

Dostoevsky

Power Outage

Some construction is going on nearby which likely caused a blackout at the Hampton. Almost immediately the phones of the front desk began to ring. Take one thing away from people and they turn into children, asking if we're there yet and not knowing how to preoccupy themselves.
"What's going on? A power out?"
"It's my electric personality," jokes one worker.
"I guess it's time for a break," interjects another worker.
A lady comes close to running into the front door head on. She says she doesn't know what to do. Everything is run on electricity here: the doors, the AC, the lights and refrigerators. Our society is run on electricity and people have forgotten even how to deal with a door that will not open. Even a luxury hotel becomes as hot and dark as a low end motel.
Another call comes in, from the elevator. A worker is stuck inside and yet, out of everyone, she is capable of getting out - pulling the doors apart. The other lady still doesn't know how to leave the hotel.
"It's my electric personality," repeats the worker. She will say this many more times, though no one has laughed since the first recitation.

Laying in Bed Under the Light of My Cell Phone

Last night I had a thought, that I go to sleep when it gets dark only to wake up again when it gets light. That light gives way to dark and then light again, back and forth. I feel like I'm getting tired of the pattern maybe because what I do during the day is so repetitive. I kind of wished that I could do one or the other instead of switching back and forth so rapidly. You know, sleep for an extended period of time then be awake for a similar amount of time. Embrace night or day only. I really wished I would keep sleeping last night. I think the song "Feel It All Around" by Washed Out captures this feeling.

Another strange thing that happened was a commercial that came on before I went to bed. Some aspect of it made me feel sad with longing. It was a realty commercial with a lady standing with tons of signs stuck into this perfect grassy hill. I think it was how perfect the hill looked that got to me, sort of like some of the landscape scenes from David Byrne's movie True Stories. It's like a road trip where you end up on this road with nothing but smooth grass around; and suddenly there are these houses, like a neighborhood of three houses sprouted along the highway. They appear, are passed, and fade in the distance so quickly almost like they are on an island in the middle of no where. I wonder if this description catches the beautiful feeling I'm trying to get across. I wonder if it will rekindle the feeling in me in the future.

I sent out a card to Dandelion, Jeska and my sister. I think it will arrive Friday, you guys.

The Eye

You can take a picture of what you see, but not what you mean.

Timelessness

Currently listening to:
Soft Music Under Stars
Fila Brazillia

I am finally stuck in the present, though not stuck in a bad way. It could be due to exhaustion and lack of days off but my focus isn't going into the past much and the far future is left alone. What caught my attention is how I have been told that each new location we go to is not as bad as the last, or at least not as difficult as the first Oklahoma site. I noticed that I can't remember how difficult the previous sites were or exactly why Chickasaw was the hardest. Each new place we go seems to be the most difficult, maybe in its own way. When I'm done with work each day, I return to the hotel room and just lay in bed watching the food channel, but of course I can't sleep and get rest. This is the way my days are and there's a timeless feel about them. So I guess all this amounts to living in the present.

Once we arrive at the next place in Colorado there will be more to do. We will be taking three days off once the site is done but before we go to New Mexico. I think we're visiting some caves and cliff dwellings and maybe the Great Sand Dunes. It will be fun to go back there.

I really like the movie Last Holiday with Queen Latifah. I've seen it on TV many times and it always makes me smile, but I never knew the title of the movie until tonight.

Photographing Prices

While driving, the first concern is gas. I've been in a few situations where my tank ran dangerously low because I kept passing stations with ridiculous prices. For instance, the other day I passed a station selling gas for 3.90/gallon when the area is anywhere between 3.35-3.50/gallon. And in those times every station sticks out as a possible stopping point.

It's important to note that, at high speeds, out of business gas stations look very much like an in business station having a slow day. And then the sign is seen, "unleaded - 1.65," and the heart beats faster at the prospect of finding the cheapest gas in the nation that everyone else somehow did not see. But it's closed. I find it fascinating that more isn't done to make these stations look more unavailable and then I had the idea of making a visual timeline.

Imagine someone traveling the nation photographing old abandoned gas stations, and then arranging the photographs in the order of the dates of their closings. We would then be able to see the fluctuations of that market. Each station is a little time capsule. I know there's probably some paper listing gas prices over time, but this seemed like a more creative way to show it.

Soon To Leave Oklahoma

Currently listening to:
I Wish That You Didn't Feel Like My Home
Matt the Electrician

I haven't had much internet access lately; currently, at this small motel in Oklahoma I can't get onto their internet because my computer is picky about what password protected networks it will let me connect with. It's a pain and I can't wait to get a new computer in a few years, when they are even smarter, or whatever. So once in a while I can get a connection with some unprotected network, which isn't great to do so I keep it to a minimum.

Some things I've seen on the road are a skunk, two horses side by side, donkies and layered clouds. I don't think I've ever seen a skunk in the wild and I made sure I didn't hit it lest the area smell like some of the best pot Kansas has ever smelled. The two horses that were exactly next to each other, facing the highway, caught my attention because they were almost like two people you would see in a coffee shop. I wondered what they were thinking and talking about as they watched the far-in between cars pass. It's interesting to see animals positioned like that or facing opposite directions right next to each other; I wonder what it's all about. I have to say I don't like Oklahoma's weather at all, nor their rules or higher prices; however, the state does have pretty awesome skies. The clouds I saw yesterday were layered as if I could be on one and step down like a staircase. The clouds are kind of like a flip book, where each page I turn adds more clouds at a different elevation and distance. It's a pretty awesome sight; I've taken several sky pictures since beginning my job, maybe not as much as I should have.

When we were leaving getting into Oklahoma again, I had an encounter with a sheriff. We were told that cops sometimes pulled government vehicles over because of the odd license plates and lack of an insurance windshield sticker. So this sheriff followed us a bit, then got into my blind spot and stayed there, I assume he was checking out the plate number. After ten minutes since seeing him, he pulled along side and waved, then drove off. I like to think people notice the government license plate and change their behavior accordingly, as if I could really do something about their speeding. I don't think most notice anyway.

It's pretty lonely out here without someone my age to talk with. I did have a good conversation with a guy that works at Washita. He had an aneurism and stroke at a young age and went into a coma, but can't remember any dreams or anything. We talked about rain harvesting and gardens and artificial body parts and why engineers didn't try to recreate the whole instead of just parts. We talked about some literature written by people who have experiences bodily malfunction and were able to write about it as it happened. I later heard from my boss that he was impressed with me. It takes a conversation to bring forth all the little bits of information collected in the back of your mind.

So now I'm quite tipsy. Across the street from the motel is a "liquor store" and, being Oklahoma, it was expensive. I still bought a small flask of three year old whiskey called Canadian Hunter. I don't really like whiskey but wanted to try this and it's smoother than some other cheap whiskey I've tried. Today is just one of those days I don't want to be around Jill or anyone and just want to relax and make a microwave dinner. Andrew suggested a game where I have to say what I'm hunting every time I take a shot: like "I'm hunting WOLVES" or the like.

Lost At Sea

Currently listening to:
Tonight I Have To Leave It
Shout Out Louds

I am an oasis. There is something about me that attracts certain people, and sometimes their friends. Many times, however, their friends do not understand or mesh with me. At that point, the relationship is given to certain limitations and I feel my access to their life is diminished while I, free-floating, remain open and welcome. And then I am an oasis.

If I Had An Orchard I'd Work 'Til I'm Sore

Skin pulled taut over the frame of a hand
baked, punctured, bumpy from irritation
silver ring turned black from hours of sweat.
The sun overhead boiling a pot of atmosphere
droplets of humidity excited by the heat
singe skin on contact.
Temporary home
with the cushioned bench by the window
facing a cemetery.

Tomorrow I head out for Kansas. It should be an easier park since there are only eight transects to do and they supposedly mowed and burned much of the area. We're staying in the housing at Fort Larned since they have the facilities and we're working for the government. However, it's likely the case that there won't be any internet to connect with; that and the rooming quarters are shared, so there is reason to hurry along. The first full day there is a day off, finally, but I've been told there isn't much to do there. I like sitting outside, looking at every little thing and nothing at the same time, anyway.
I need to write and send more postcards but it's hard to find the energy and I feel like I'm not deep enough into this living on the road to have anything particular to say about it.

First Week

It kind of feels like the first month is over already yet I've only been on the job three days, after training. Right now I'm in Oklahoma at Chickasaw. They tell me this is the worst park due to the heat and humidity and the way all the transects are - in dense vegetation. Originally we were supposed to leave for Kansas on Friday, but now it looks like I'll be there Saturday. I decided to take pictures of all the places I'm staying. I've been cut, rashed, stung, and stabbed by the environment out here. My hands looked very damaged by the end of today from chiggers and sweat; it's hard work.

I'm really tired and tomorrow we're going to try to do three transects, hopefully. Jill plans ahead with me on what we will do, then over thinks it and changes it based on what she wants to do. She micromanages herself. We are getting faster at completing transects but today we left at six and didn't start working until nine because the sites were hard to find and she wanted to go back and forth on the same paths. I think a true field leader needs to be even-minded, fit enough to handle a full day of work, not constantly make excuses and take responsibility.

I need to stop ranting all the time.

LBJ Grassland

Today we finished training at the LBJ grasslands, culminating in the completion of two transects. I learned a lot more plants and have done every part of the surveying we will be doing. Jill was a little snappy and tried to make an argument about an efficient way of doing something when we're almost done with a transect - tying up pvc pipes while the other is still working with theirs rather than keeping the rope packed until all pipes are together - and I called her out on it. The boss said she just didn't get as much sleep and was tired, but Jill also tried to excuse any future time she gets upset or angry as her being a woman who has a period. While that may be part of it, I think that's bullshit and there's no reason to let negative emotions affect the work we have to do. I've been here as long as she has and she's gotten flustered at least once a day while I haven't felt any negative emotions since I arrived.
She's also diabetic but ate a whole quart of iced cream in one night, drinks diet soda everyday, eats so much shit (junk food isn't food, but she also eats as much as I did when I was a teenager), and moans constantly as if she can't handle mornings. Suffice to say, I knew from the first day we worked together we would butt heads. The rest of the stuff is me and I admit it; she's just too much of an exaggerated mom for me.

In other news, they made an artificial heart using a rotor-motor which keeps blood moving continuously. It has not clogged or broke in any test subjects and so is considered to be better than any of the pulsing artificial hearts. This means that in anyone that gets the new heart, there is no heartbeat or pulse because blood is continuously pushed through. While this is slightly strange, what is also curious is what happens when someone using the heart is frightened or stressed. I don't know exactly what happens but it's the first thing I thought about when I read the article. I guess the blood would flow faster since normally a heart would beat faster.

First Day

Woke up at six today and went to a little bakery. We went to LBJ grasslands and, after a while, found the transect rebar and I went through the process of setting up the tapes. We only did one plot out of five, which is a fraction of a fraction of the work that must be done, but I feel like we made good time given that it was our first day and I'm totally new to it. I think they're happy with how I'm doing. I don't know a ton of names but I'm good at spotting plants that are passed over. I found the only poison ivy plot in the area. I can't escape that stuff.

My poison ivy is healing well, finally. I think the key is roughing it up and hurting it, then using the medicine so it really gets in.
Jill seems to get flustered easily when under the sun. I forget I'm with older people who need to be out of the sun once in a while. I was out there the whole time and only found it difficult when the sun was directly overhead, making everything almost to bright to see and make out details; everything gets super-real. So I think Jill may be bothersome to me eventually, though I won't show it, or course. She also farts loudly, then apologizes. I don't think people are really sorry when they do something and immediately apologize; if they were really sorry they wouldn't do it to begin with. I don't really like that aspect, it's just abrupt.

Marble Falls

Today I drove down to Marble Falls to my boss's house. She looks similar to what I pictured in my mind, an older Roseanne sort of woman. I met Jill, my partner intern, who is much older than I expected, perhaps around my mom's age. The drive was longer than I expected because of the constant traffic leaving Dallas. It was a pretty twisty route.

Jill had done this internship last summer and she and Tomye regaled me with tales of the last plant survey team and how one of the guys had hooked up with one of the young interpretation interns at one site (who always happen to be female). They suggested I might have some fun like that as well. I wonder how one of those young girls might interpret me. All in all, these ladies are pretty laid back, like I could talk about anything around them.

Tomorrow we wake up around eight, which apparently is any old time, to discuss all the aspects of the job. Then we head out to the LBJ grasslands on Tuesday, waking up early at six (I thought eight was early!) and doing one transect. We only have to do two slowly to get the procedure down and that will take us to Wednesday or Thursday, followed by a wrap-up. Everyone is very nice. I hope I live up to expectations.

Shadows in Bloom

Currently listening to:
I Know You Don't Love Me
Peter Bjorn and John

I know that I am a good person because of how calm and gentle I am, even when under the influence of a substance. Any mask can be worn by day-to-day but all that is stripped away with inhibition. That's when you know your true self. I'm pretty pleased with me, but I wish that could be in the day-to-day..

New Thought on Drugs

While listening to the new song "Some Boys" by Death Cab I had a thought. Perhaps things become addictive or dangerous when they are used to fill a hole in one's life. I was thinking about alcohol and drugs in my life and I realized that there is a particular mood in which I do things like that. Perhaps that's why I feel safe doing all I do, I'm not doing them to replace something missing in my life. I don't know, I think that's all I thought.

Tribute to a Live Oak

He lived closest to the house, the one that was abandoned. The old-style red brick facade and the concrete patio enclosed on two sides beginning to crack. Tall, unmanicured bushes began on the exposed side of the patio and continued to the end of the house, blocking the bottom half of the windows from view. The backyard was overgrown with power lines drooping almost to the ground and isolated trees that seemed too out-competed to grow any bigger. The front yard was kept in check sporadically, enough to avoid city fines. On those days, the yard stood out starkly from the shoddy house and decomposing fence.

It wasn't always abandoned, but it was as good as abandoned. The house used to be lived in by an old woman who was never seen. Only the daughter was seen once in a while, to see her mother and to make sure the lawn was cut regularly. It usually was. The old woman died while he was still at home and he was told a family in Highland Park, the old-money neighborhood that thought itself separate from the city that surrounded it, had bought the house after the daughter had had it for a few years. Apparently the family had bought the house for their high school child, to be passed over upon completion of college. So the house was as good as abandoned, with little difference from before except the extended neglect. Perhaps this was for the best because on the small parcel of land, in front of the unkempt house, was a prize rarely seen within city neighborhoods.

A tree left to its own natural devices; huge with lengthy limbs growing outward, falling almost to the ground with weight, and curving back up to take advantage of the sun. The tree grew as if meant for climbing, and like a staircase one could go up one side of the tree and come down the other. Once, he clamored up one side and rested. Above him there was a chattering and he realized a squirrel was already to the top, wanting to go down but unsure of which path kept the most distance between it and him. Another time he met a cat in the branches; and yet another time he climbed to the top during a light rain and watched all the colors change.

Apart from natural encounters, he also had human ones within the tree. Religious speakers shared words with him from below. A few people have noticed him up in the branches but kept going with their daily routine. One person joined him, though; a best friend. She was the only other person he took into the tree. It was where they got to know each other more and the second time, it was where they kissed. After the kiss, he sat in the branch asking what they should do next and not hearing a word of it. She was blocked in by him and looked at him expectantly. He mumbled some excuse about a toll she should pay to pass and he could swear she rolled her eyes, but kissed him anyway. Still he did not move, wanting to freeze time on the tree, to hold the situation and keep it around a little longer. She pushed him down.

Suffice to say, he had an attachment to the tree, and still does. Though, now it has all changed, as all things do change. The Highland Park connection disappeared, taxes stopped being paid, and the house was auctioned off. Crews started showing up, kicking out the animal residents of the house, tearing down the fence, and butchering the tree. A tree left to its own accord will create the most beautiful living art; however, this comes at the cost of not being easily manipulated by humans. A newborn tree under constant scrutiny can take many forms, of which many look appealing; but once a tree has set its own path, it can only be scarred and mutilated. And so this tree still stands and lives with countless fresh stumps exposed all over its body. No one will easily climb into its arms and nestle into its crooks again. The new owners probably have no children anyway, let alone taste, respect.

A Past Project

I tried to look for the legal pad I started writing on for the project I started when I met Dandelion. I can't find it, it's not with the loose leaf material I packed. I remember bringing it back to work on during Winter break, but that's it. Even that could be a fake memory - I don't know. This kind of freaks me out because it's a token of the time and I feel like it had a lot of good material in it, a sort of plot line to follow. I guess I'll have to reread what I've already written and go from there on a fresh start...

The Problem With Writing

It's difficult for me to finish writing projects I start, large ones I mean. I'm a pretty slow worker and writing means taking myself out of the world. I cannot take in the world and, at the same time, place it in another medium. So by writing something that takes much time, I lose that time and miss whatever I would have taken in otherwise. Even when not out and about, when I'm just sitting in my room, I'm seeing things on the computer from all over the world that I wouldn't normally see. Most of the time I'm just a black hole taking in the world around me. I do feel like I should finish something some day.

The Past Is the Past

I'm undertaking a big step in my life. Every time I go back to school, it is with fewer things and then I come home and am in a filled room. I get used to the sparse living and the clutter bothers me; so the past couple summers I have been trying to get rid of my childhood, so to speak. This summer marks the biggest change. Before I do my first internship in something completely foreign, I'll basically be cutting ties with most of my past. Prior to now, I cleaned out my computer of past saved conversations with old girlfriends and high school diary, as well as my hobby of collecting news stories and information of suicide. Then I removed many of my childhood toys. Now I'm fully getting rid of my old toys and some books and clothes. I just microwaved my CD conversations with my psychologist from high school - letting go of a past me without ever revisiting it. Old summer camp art projects will be photographed and trashed. I need to stop living in the past, stop focusing on the future, recognize the present. I think this is the best way to transition myself, to what I don't know. It will help my parents when they move and I'm in the Peace Corps, anyway.

No regrets.

Things I Wrote

Aug. 19, 2003:
"My mind went dumb with stupid things, and I had to keep it moving with dreams of baseball and would-be-girlfriends."

"I had to daydream and keep my mind busy because boredom was a terror almost as aweful as the work itself."

Nov. 2002:
"It was a calm day at school when suddenly, RING! BANG! POP! All the kids knew that those bells meant there was a fire, killer ant, and radioactive chicken alert. Every kid ran to their locker and browsed through their suits. But which suit should they wear? So they put all three suits on. First, the fire burned away the killer ant suit. Second, the radioactive chickens pecked away the fire suit. Third, the killer ants chewed away the radioactive chicken suit. And finally, all three forces destroyed the kids."

Sept. 23, 2002:
"I was flying high above the sky; soaring with the birds. When suddenly there was a boom! Blood dripped down my arm, when suddenly. I woke up. I was on the top floor of the Empire State building. I leaned against the rail when suddenly a kid pushed me! I was falling at top speed when suddenly... I woke up. I was a file in a computer. The cursor dragged me to the recycling bin and emptied it when suddenly... I woke up. I was standing in a burning building. All exits were blocked by fire. I waited to wake up, but I never did."

Feb. 21, 2003:
"In conclusion, blah blah rippety-snippety blah bling blang blah blah blah. You will notice that I said the word "blah" and some other zangy words, that is because this topic is slow and sluggish. I dislike this topic."

Just a Kid

It's been a while since I've last posted and much has happened, as always, but most of it slipped my mind. To sum up, there was a camping trip with some of the guys and it was very cold. Andrew decided it was better to make a fire rather than put a sweater on, so we were tied down to the camp spot and suddenly used up the wood we had collected before the sun had even set. I'm don't think certain people would survive in a primitive situation, especially when they walk around a grocery store hung over and leave empty-handed despite having no food for the trip.
Anyway, I was able to snag another hit of acid before the trip, so I took two hits. It was kind of like bloomers except without the emotional ending and the desire to go back; it was on and then off, sort of like how salvia is described. Certainly it was more productive, bloomers tend to incapacitate in the way that you can't write down most of what you think because they're emotions at the core, I suppose. At night we smoked and drank, but I just couldn't get drunk for some reason, no matter how much I took. It was a pretty fun farewell event before finals.
Finals were pretty terrible; I only felt positive about a couple of them and the rest have turned out average as I expected. I just want to graduate.
Then I did the fifteen hour drive home. I didn't think about a whole lot this time so it was kind of lame. There were a couple one-lane highway situations where the other lane was being repaired. I chatted with a couple workers and posed the question of what they would do if they received no calls and no next shift came to relieve them. Despite being in the middle of nowhere, they didn't seem too worried. I might make a play about that or something, sort of a Waiting for Godot sort of thing.
Last night some of my old friends came over and brought everclear and some fruit punch from a Mexican grocery store. We passed that wine around and then a bong and we were all messed up and jovial. I haven't been that messed up since I started CSU; it felt good to let loose and laugh for no reason. Rebekah told me she stopped doing drugs to learn things, about herself of the world, and now just does them to feel something different and get messed up. Well, she didn't use those exact words so some of that may not be true. But I thought about what she said and realized that while I still feel I have things to learn, recently it has been more about feeling messed up and I want to feel it more, but not in a totally self-destructive way. I've been thinking about this idea of doing a certain order or amount or frequency of things to initiate some sort of reality shift.
Today I went to see Dandelion. She was helping Josh with his hair and we played Jenga and watched the Office. I haven't played a game like that in a while. Adian came home from work and he seemed about the same, though I didn't really know what to say to him, or really anyone, today. It was his birthday recently, or maybe today so Kasey was going to make some birthday dinner and do laundry, so Josh and I got kicked out. She seemed pretty eager to do laundry.

In Another's Shoes

Once in a while I dress in tatters;

the pants that lost their blue
leaving skeleton threads of white-
but not from activity, I know,
the threads never broke.

The second-hand shirt,
too big or too small
with missing buttons
and shrunken collar.

The shoes, scratched and stained
from abrasive ice and salt,
the leather worn smooth
and the soles worn uneven.

Within a coffee shop I try to order
and they look over me and inquire
The days of store credit are over.
But I have what they desire.

The paper that is not quite paper
and little disks a drop spread out.

Personality Test

Often concerned with right and wrong, and punctilious in expressing it, you are best represented by the Customs Agent or the IRS inspector. Initially seen by others as cold or uncaring, you are difficult for those more spontaneous members of society to understand. You are extremely stable, responsible and dependable. You manifest an amazing ability to concentrate on the issue at hand, and are difficult to distract from issues that are important. You manifest a great sense of loyalty to your employers and your government. You tend to show love through a display of committed works, believing that actions speak louder than words. You are also resistant to change and tend to believe that the old ways are best. If a behavior has been successful in the past, why would anyone want to change? You work best in a controlled environment.

I'd be interested to hear the results of others: http://www.hypnoid.com/psytest2.html?utm_source=Sailthru&utm_medium=email&utm_term=Very%20Short%20List%20-%20Daily&utm_campaign=VSL

Ray

There comes a time
A time in everyone's life
Where lovin' seems to go away
When nothin' seems to turn out right

There may come a time
You just can't seem to find your place
For every door you open
Seems like you get two slammed in your face

That's when you need, someone
Someone that you, you can hold
When all your faith is gone
Feels like you can't go home

Let it be me
Let it be me
If it's a friend, that you need
Let it be me
Let it be me

Feels like you always comin' up last
Pockets full of nothin', ain't got no cash
No matter where you turn, you ain't got no place to stand
You reach out for somethin', and they slap your hand

I remember all too well
Just how it feels to be all alone
Feels like you give anything
For just a little place you can call your own

That's when you need, someone
Someone that you, you can hold
When all your faith is gone
Feels like you can't go home

Let it be me
Let it be me
If it's a friend, you need
Let it be me
Let it be me

Let it be me
Let it be me
If it's a friend, you need
Let it be me
Let it be me
Let it be me

Yellow Country Teeth

"...a child with a shotgun can shoot down honeybees that sting, but this boy could use a little sting."

Kid

If I ever have a child, I think I'll plant a tree for them to grow up with.

In My Mind

I think about the people I know or have seen and I make up stories about them, and me. I love, fight, sustain friendships, and spend my whole life with people. In this way, in real life, I get very close to people or keep them at a faraway distance. The funny thing is people aren't even aware of this and the stories become memories that can confuse me, and eventually they fade like many memories do. It's also interesting to note that, while I get closer to people or sustain friendships this way, I'm doing so with my last memory of the person. I haven't yet been totally shocked when meeting with someone I had old memories of, but I have the feeling it's going to happen soon - people can't help but change.

When you ran outside with your shirt tucked in and your shoes untied

Currently listening to:
Casimir Pulaski Day
Sufjan Stevens

I thought about this post half of the day but between there and now I've been involved with some people which broke the steady mood I had been thinking in to that moment. Rather than just throw down the good fragments, I'm going to try and make this as flowy and conducive as I can. I kind of wonder what point there is in conversation these days, with all the catch-up recorded somewhere online. It's all third person these days.

I was watching people today out the big bay window of an alcove in this building I would have class in. Windows are nice because it's like looking at a movie screen or some moving photograph. I like to imagine the lives of the people I see: where they go home at night and what their evening routines are, who they are going to meet and how they interact with them and if they would be interested in me, what their hopes and dreams are, and so on. There are so many little stories out there.

Today has been a sad sort of day, a desire to meet new people sort of day, or picnic with old friends. People just keep looking at me; maybe it's my hair. I think there's a correlation between hunger and despair; when hunger is present, despair begins to increase, but there's some peak point where despair continues to increase but hunger suddenly decreases. It's a dangerous correlation. I remember a time in high school when I had it and my parents worried about me. Today wasn't as bad as back then.

In statistics I got a quiz back and got 100% and my eyes started to tear up. I thought to myself, why do my teachers keep giving me these numbers, which probably sounds silly since it will really help my grade out. It's just not what I really want or need. I wish my teachers would put their hand on my shoulder and lead me outside and tell me there's more to life than all this, even though this is all I've known so far. They would take me to their homes which would be tastefully old-fashioned with translucent drapes over the lamps casting patterns on the walls, and they would have a big radio that would be the main fixture of the living room. We would go to their patio outback where the grass hasn't been mowed in a few weeks and the potted tomato plants would be perky with the recent rain. The paint would be chipping and the bricks would be cracked, but we'd drink tea and discuss why things are the way they are and why we feel the way we do.
It was during this that I realized I no longer enjoy school. Maybe it's just a temporary feeling produced from a year of classes I have to take but that I have no interest in. I figured out my schedule for next semester and took it a step farther by listing every class I need to graduate. If there are no conflictions with time and I get into every class I need and if one class is suddenly offered in the fall instead of spring, I'll graduate in three semesters and be out of here. But that's a lot of ifs.

I've been dreaming of the American Dream lately. I've got so much school work that keeps rolling in and it's all harder than I'm used to now that I'm in the upper level classes and it makes me worry a lot more about the uncertainty of summer. I'm working hard to get the summer nailed down, but there are too many other people trying to do the same thing. How thin can the American Dream stretch? I get caught in the cycle of needing experience to get a good internship and needing a good internship to get experience. If I can't get an internship I hope I at least find a farm/ranch I can work and live within.

Boogidy

Eyes cascade and hold
walking through plazas
no distance
what they see in me
I do not see
what they see in me
they cross away
steady smile accompany
steady eyes
what a creep
something strange about-
that peaceful face
what's behind
sheep afraid with nothing but sheep
walking through plazas
no distance
trotting away

Can't Judge By the Cover

Since my first alone lunch with Kristin, who I thought would be a new friend, I haven't seen her. I took it to mean she didn't want me bothering her since she stopped coming to her usual lunch spot all together. I saw her tonight after I'd finished eating and I couldn't tell if she was surprised to see me, she just gave me a side glance and a meek smile and walked past me. As I left I looked over at where she was eating alone and she was looking at her phone and smiling.

Journey Round My Skull

Recently I've been having this soreness in the back of my head, feels like the lower left side of my skull. To the touch it doesn't feel asymmetrical from the other side, meaning there's no bump or anything. It's sort of a dull pain when I touch it. I've been getting plenty of sleep so I don't think it's a lack of rest thing, but when it gets later in the evening it seems to become more pronounced and I start feeling pretty lethargic.
I think around the same time the pain started I began seeing flashes. I'll be working on my computer and out of the corner of my eye I'll see this sparkle, and when I focus my sight on it all that's there is a tiny scrap of paper or something else that's white. It can be annoying and distracting. I could be wrong about it starting up when my head started hurting. I hope they aren't related and my brain is inflating and pressing on my skull or something. That would be a bother.
I think the soreness is getting better, though. At least I'm able to touch the spot more easily now.

I Still Will

Date a girl who doesn’t read because the girl who reads knows the importance of plot. She can trace out the demarcations of a prologue and the sharp ridges of a climax. She feels them in her skin. The girl who reads will be patient with an intermission and expedite a denouement. But of all things, the girl who reads knows most the ineluctable significance of an end. She is comfortable with them. She has bid farewell to a thousand heroes with only a twinge of sadness.

- Charles Warnke

General Malaise

Currently listening to:
Casiotone for the Painfully Alone

I just found this band today. They have some of the saddest songs I've heard in a while. The repetitive melody and strained vocals really fit the mood. I've been feeling strange this weekend. Last night I drank with friends and we smoked and I felt happy and a sense of well-being, then people went on their own way for the weekend and I couldn't go camping like I'd planned because the weather became colder and threatened to snow, as it always does when there is time to do something other than school.
I dream the long meaningful dreams I have these days and wake up groggy like the characters in movies when life isn't going their way, only I don't smoke a cigarette and rub my slightly unshaven face.
I have homework to do and a test to prepare for, yet I don't want to do these things. I didn't pass my second phone interview and am more uncertain about whether I'll have something meaningful to do this summer. Everything feels so fragile right now and I may just blow away. These are times for becoming stone and watching one scene for a long stretch of time.