New Friend

Currently listening to:
Little Deschutes
Laura Veirs

I'm learning all these maths and sciences which are all very impressive. Somehow humans figured out patterns and cause and effect within how things work. Numbers and symbols which arrange into equations that seem to govern processes and produce the correct answer. How can we be so smart and consider truth in the results shown by an instrument made only to the best of our ability and understanding. I need some particular information so I make a machine that feeds me something I take to be the answer, since that's why the machine was made after all. Just because what we call truth and laws of nature work doesn't mean that's the way it is; there are many ways to an answer and we don't know which one is more correct.

I met a girl today. Actually I had seen her before, in the new cafeteria I eat at most of the week for lunch. She has this messy short brown hair and dresses like students at prestigious schools from those older movies, the ones that lay in the shade discussing and smoking pipes. I was too nervous to make eye contact with her long enough to see what color they are. I've noticed her a couple times and she only eats alone with a school binder open by her lunch. I figured she was older and my lunch buddies said I should talk to her, but I've just never been able to force anything like that. However, I mentioned her and how she looked interesting in my think-I'm-quiet-but-actually-loud way and she smirked, but maybe it was what she was reading.
Well today we happened to sit by a lunch that she happened to be away from at the time. So she returned and I glanced a bit until one of Andrew's friends came over. He's a clever guy that talks a lot. We were talking in our humorous manner and I noticed her small smile from time to time. He got on the topic of wishing it were permissible to take fries from strangers in the cafeteria (she was eating some) and she moved her fries farther from us and from there we wrangled her into the conversation on and off. In our side conversation I found out her name is Kristin (but I don't know the correct spelling) and shes from New Mexico; 21, senior in biology, living off campus with an off campus meal plan. It's strange to think that without that meal plan I wouldn't know she existed. The way she dresses and her hair style and the way she only does small smiles (and only once in a while at that) leaves me wondering what past made her a sophisticated-seeming student. I know I'm trying to focus on just the present, but it's hard to fight my nature.
Anyway, I told her we eat there during the working hours of Monday through Wednesday, noon to one-thirty. Andrew's friend said he's there only Monday and Wednesday so she should come then; I think he was joking. I think I'll be seeing her again.

The Lonely Shower

I made headway in my application for SCA internships. I'm at the stage where I have to get the permission of three people to use as references and for recommendation letters. So far I've gotten the permission of my favorite philosophy professor at Webster, Britt-Marie. I updated her a bit about the new college life and she commented that I didn't sound too happy here. I thought about it and realized I'm not too attached to this school except for graduating purposes. I further realized that since I've been here I feel I've somewhat lost touch with time and reality. I have no idea what I'm doing here and sometimes I feel like I shouldn't be here.

"Have you ever looked up at a plane flying overhead and wished to be on it? To leave everything and put your life on some track that's already been going, only with other people?"
"I don't often look up."
I guess that's what I should expect to hear.

It's strange. I shower each night, and shave, go to class, and eat, and sleep (though now with the help of melatonin). The same schedule repeats so often it's no wonder I can't keep things straight. Sure the assignments and projects differ, but they're all the same in frequency and effect. If it were warmer I could go to the mountain on the weekends. The only thing to do around here is go to parties, and they've never been my scene.
I think Britt-Marie may be the only adult I'd confide in regarding reality and the drugs and life. But maybe I'm just feeling that for this moment.

Just Another Day

How many military people does it take to raise a flag? 5. Two to turn the rope, two to unfold and attach the flag, and one to salute in the background the whole time.
The only thing that made the scene human was the leader (I'm assuming) who murmured encouragement or orders. The rest might as well have been robots.

I met a girl today. Her name is Alena (not sure if that's how it's spelled but it's pronounced all-ee-na). I misunderstood her the first time.
"Athena?"
"I'm no goddess," she replied. I liked that reply.
She has nice shoulder length hair and glasses.

Fragment

Currently listening to:
Take a Picture
Filter

I'm still never really bored. I look up into the smooth blue sky that somehow makes "floaters" present, visible. These flying worms that leave short-live trails could be outside of me or could be within my eye. I like to think that if they are outside of me, they are bits of the spiritual energy of the world, keys to what is beyond our blue ceiling; that they are there to protect me or guide me. If they're only inside my eyes, I'm not sure what they would do. I guess it's something to watch instead of TV. When other people stare off into space, I wonder if they are watching them too. I wonder why they're only visible with a sky background.

You and I are dolphins, cutting through water, switching positions, twirling around. Our paths intersect briefly and we circle each other and separate on paths that will take us to the peak of our separation only to bring us back together again . We will undulate like this.

In a Ship In a Bottle

My favorite part of the highway are the different "over-sized load"s that come my way. I can usually never tell what they belong to. I thought about Native American tribes and if they were to still migrate as they used to, in this day and age, perhaps they would construct tepees on flatbed 18-wheelers and migrate that way. What a sight to see.

At night, I've been driving over ten hours straight. In the final stretch my mind blanks and I see things. I wouldn't call it sensory deprivation and yet I'm just sitting here and everything is moving around me. In my rear view mirror my string of pine cones appear very much to be the heads of passengers since it's too dark to make out any features. I suppose I'm not alone.

And against the night sky are plumes jutting out from man-made volcanoes. The uppermost wisps take forms, like ducks, before dissipating. The plumes alternate colors from shades of blue to red against a deep blue sky that appears to be just as shallow, like a layer of paint on a wall. I leave this quickly.

I see the shadow of a front bumper, the sort you see on police cars. It is a normal white car pretty dirty with a sticker of a stag on the rear. I know that some old police cars get auctioned off and I see no extra attached mirror, so I don't know what to make of it for sure. Checking out the license plate for the state it's from, it says "EXEMPT." 'There's no state called "exempt,"' I think to myself. 'What kind of state is called exempt? What sort of business do they do there?' And I look at the bottom and see "Wyoming." They should really put the state name where it usually is. I didn't know if they would have jurisdiction in Colorado so I kept my nose clean.

I feel like a ship suspended on a bottle. I don't know what emotions go with that - probably some anxiety, longing, detachment from reality. College is about leaving, constantly dropping situations (classes, vacations, schools). I need something steady. It's getting really hard to keep leaving.

Bath

Showers are very sudden things. The water goes on and hot, in, water off immediately, out. Baths take longer to draw and empty; there is a sort of choreography about it. And you seep into the water and are immersed rather than pelted all over. When the bath is over, you get out, leaving the water sitting as if it were waiting on you. A shower is shut off and the water leaves you standing there in the cleaning area. I think I prefer baths though I haven't had one since I was a child.

Don't Know What Brought This On

An old man moved down the road in tattered clothing, layers on layers to create the would be warmth of one sweater. Nighttime. Anyone out this late could be any normahl taking a walk, going somewhere, but then again they could be a little kooky. No one knows why they are out shuffling in the cold except them, and they aren't talking. The old man is. He crosses paths this those that aren't crossing. A group of teenagers that are basically kids, some stooping some standing, on the side of the road. They look a little mean, emotionless, living just another stage in life. The old man stopped and spoke My people have taken the fight out of me. I am human and less than an animal for an animal thrives in the world, they possess all roles to equal ability. My role is not the farmer, and without the farmer I can only scratch a little from the ground and hold on like a cold claw to a slipping surface. No, survival has been bred out of me. My people have taken my fight away. And he shuffled onward with a stumble. The boys looked on after him and walked the opposite way. There was nothing to take from him.

Who We Really Are

Currently listening to:
The World Without
A Fine Frenzy

We were talking about the past, and the present. I come to Dallas to reconnect with who I think I really am. This town is filled with memories and emotion. It's so heavy with them, I'm weighed down. It kind of sounds like my true self is the product of suppression, but I don't think that's totally the meaning.
In college I'm myself and then begin to lose myself. After some amount of time I ease into somewhat of a jerky personality. Plain and simple I can be a jerk, which surprises my friends in Dallas who only know me deep down. By jerk I mean the snarky retorts and rude returns.
Those who were with me in high school also know a jerky side. A different sort. High school was a time of such hopelessness and depression. I suppose it was as if I had a well full of myself that had to be sorted through even though by that age I hadn't experienced all that much that would need sorting. I always have daydreamed a lot and seen many pasts and many more futures that would not come to pass - in that respect I've always lived many lifetimes. Maybe that's what weighed me down in high school, made me feel so old.
The jerkiness then was more serious; now I've come to realize my current jerkiness is more a veneer and deep down I depend upon and care about those around me. She was surprised when I explained that; maybe she thought who I have been "acting" as is some cover. She asked why I revert to being a jerk in college when I could be the Dallas me. I guess everyone has some tendency they can't escape and we're always moving back and forth. Why my tendency is snarky, I don't know. I suppose I should find a way to keep myself in the Dallas me despite its occasional sadness. I'm going to take my postcard with an image of Dallas aglow back with me and see if that will help me recall. I'll just have to see how this next semester goes.

Kellye

Kellye said she was going to break up with her boyfriend when she goes back to school. It feels strange knowing that something is going to happen before it does, like seeing a movie based on a book you've read. This doesn't really involve me, though, so I don't feel too affected by it. Still, it's a strange feeling.

We had another long hang out, the first one since we did mushrooms together, which was the first hang out of the season. The trip was good and she felt she learned a lot, about herself and time, of course. It was much more mind oriented than I have experienced, and I attribute that to her. That's how it was in brief.
This final goodbye took us to Braum's for iced cream, but I didn't eat much of mine because I took a Focalin because I thought she'd be on Adderall. She hadn't brought any home so she was off it while I was on. Not what I expected, but it was also interesting in a humorous way. I started talking to a guy in line who had a cousin working there and we all started talking about things that probably made them think I was on something. We sat and talked for hours.
We got lost trying to drive back to my house so she could see the dogs and I could grab my coat. I was so focused that I forgot I had a GPS.
After that we went to Brookhaven and wandered around. The whole place looked so different than it does during the daytime. Kellye said it seemed more magical because it was night or because I was there, and it seemed so, I could vividly recall being back on that Tuesday when we jumped out of time's track. We drank some and made our way to the car and sat in the backseat and talked more while the radio played. Then we cuddled and she said I was of a different breed of skinny boys because I wasn't uncomfortable to lay on, but perhaps everyone cuddles differently and our bodies remember the way other people cuddle so it works. So we cuddled and that was enough.

Dandelion focuses on and lives in the now and I wanted to apply that in my own life, and I think I'm slowly exploring it. It kind of takes the sting out of life.