Spring Break

I began the break by going on a floor trip to the Great Sand Dunes. We had a good group going and it was pretty fun. I hiked mountains and the sands and we visited a place called Creststone which was one large parcel of land split up amongst anyone with a religion they wanted to represent, so it's thought of as a zone of spiritual energy. We stayed in park ranger housing; from a window i could see both mountains and the dunes depending on the angle I looked from.

I got back to the dorms Tuesday and have been enjoying the quiet despite my hoped for plans of another experience with drugs. The break has gone by so quickly, I'm dreading the beginning of classes again, especially since I'll have an additional class starting. So I've just been eating and watching movies. I took my car in for a recall deal, reformatted my computer, and I'll write postcards and do homework.
I did hear back about the interview I did for an internship. Forty people applied for five positions; I'm not one of them. The other four internships I put my application in for never really took off the ground. It's interesting, talking about it with my parents, they were so assured I'd get one of them as if I were overqualified educationally. I'm just another student, perhaps one that doesn't know how to interview over the phone, and there are a lot of people out there. It really puts things in perspective; I'm not that special. So I will be looking at newly posted internships tomorrow and hopefully I'll get one before summer.

Dreamt

I've been having vivid dreams lately, strange ones. It seems the melatonin is becoming variable because not all my dreams are like this, though I have started taking it every night rather than stopping on the weekends, to avoid the hangover effect of the hormone.
I forget these dreams because I stop thinking about them which is why I'm writing this one here. I believe I had two dreams last night, and this isn't strange but for the fact that each was at the same location and yet not.

The first scene took place in a large mansion and all I remember is that it was a rugged old home and that I had some purpose within it.
The second scene took place outdoors in a mid-depth pool of clear, still water. Looking one direction showed me the mansion a little way off and looking the other way showed me an orange-red marmalade sky of a setting sun. A little grassy distance on every side ended abruptly as if the location were on a cliff or it was floating in the air.
Mikenzie, a small girl in my hall with an attractive pixie cut, was there and looked quite cat-like. She had these sharp claws that dug into me and hurt me. There was someone or something else there that told me things, like the fact that Mikenzie was cat girl and evil and had nine lives. I picked up bits that reminded me that within the house I fought many evil characters, and Mikenzie was the last. I can't remember who the hinter was or why it was there.
The only thing I had at my disposal was the pool, so I drowned Mikenzie many times as she scratched back. Suddenly, though, everything went melodramatic and the setting sun became even deeper, the hinter was farther in the background, and Mikenzie was laying in my arms looking up at me with innocent eyes, as is shown in many movies. She said that she was evil and had to die and so was resigned to it. I started to cry because I really didn't want to take her last life, and so I held her to me, and she said it had to be done. I kept crying as I started lowering her without resistance to the water and the sun kept setting. Then I woke up.

I've been tired all day. I think I wanted to keep dreaming to see what would have happened next.

Zadig

"When one is loved by a beautiful woman, says the great Zoroaster, one always gets out of trouble in the world."

Class

I see couples in my classes that always sit together as if they planned their schedules to have the same class. I hate those classes.

Shifting Realities

Everyday this semester, and it's felt like many more days than it has actually been, I've told myself that I'm just a ghost here. I'm seen but unseen. I think I'm touching peoples' lives or at least making some kind of impression and yet I feel I could so easily just disappear off the map. I will be graduating soon enough and that will happen, and before then I'll be in an apartment which I could see being a sort of womb in which I could spend a lot of my time.
I suppose it's a sort of Donnie Darko-esque idea; being a part of the lives of people in one reality and, in another reality where you didn't interact with those people, they still feel you. Sort of a ghost in that respect. It's a strange idea to be fading from one reality into another. I feel like a disconnect from reality could cause me to disappear in which case this ghost presence in others' lives would be felt.

This sounded clearer and more poetic when I was writing it in my head hours ago.

****
On another note, I've gone to a sustainable development club meeting, which started the only organic garden on campus, and a horticulture club meeting. The people there are interesting and older... maybe my sort? I went to another horticulture club meeting and we found out the club greenhouse has mealy bugs, which are apparently impossible to get rid off. So those whole club stock of propagation had to be thrown away, pots and all. Some plants seemed to be free of them so they were submerged in neen oil which suffocated all air spaces within pot and plant without harming the plant somehow. It's sad that so many plants died from this, but funny because when I asked about recruitment the guys said members couldn't really take plants they want yet today I gained seven plants! Further, the whole bay of the greenhouse has to be burned. Flamethrowers will be brought in and the earth will literally be scorched.

There's No Smile of an Angel Without the Wrath of God

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PWaZ9yg_LQ4

Something I Never Published

Sometimes I wonder if I could actually perform in a job in the field I'm heading into. I struggle with completing tasks outdoors because I'm so overwhelmed and over calmed by the atmosphere of the natural world. I have a hard time concentrating with the wind wrapping her arms around me and the trees casting their scents to me. I would have to overcome the liberal arts tendencies to complete a scientific job. Sometimes I think I'm going into my major to get a job which would give me material for my liberal arts hobbies.

Good Dream Place

The place that feels best and that I would like to revisit someday is within an RV. Compact living is fun, especially when mobile, and the limited space allows you to only keep what you need. You have to choose your possessions wisely. I have a memory of being in the very cramped bathroom of an RV, after a shower. I was toweling off when I opened the very small window that befits such a small room. Through this tiny peephole I glimpsed the park we were camped in and the shady breeze of Summer came in and gave me goosebumps. It smelled of juniper.

Another Snowy Day

Currently listening to:
I Was a Landscape in Your Dream
Of Montreal

He was the sort of boy the cold clung to, like a pretty girl draping her arms over his shoulders from behind. The sort all boys fall into. His jacket is an adequate shield, but she slowly sinks in anyway, given time. The moisture within him bubbles up and out, intermingling with snow which blows back onto his eyelashes and stitches his eyes closed. Blind as the first day in his world, though perhaps more so; more drained and flickering, moving as a mummy. And poor cold, the girl that clings to the sort that can be clung to, is left alone. Shields have been reinvented and shelters have gone up that constantly provide warmth - places she cannot survive in cut off from her whole. So she waits outside a building entered by someone she was with, waiting for another. Always with someone new.

My Jacket

A small girl and large boy
in a room of trapped heat
everyone heavy, looking forward
she leans on his sleepy form
and doesn't stay still
and vibrates like a young bird
or rabbit in restlessness
they sneak a kiss

I've been told my jacket is too big for me, it's obviously many sizes bigger than me. I like its largeness and how it flows around me, like being within a home outside of home. I can keep possessions inside and maybe even sit down to tea within it. Its extra spaces capture extra heat and coze me. It has room for two.

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.

Extremely Blah

Currently listening to:
Your Ghost
Greg Laswell

Fallen back into the glum mood. It's easier back home, around the family, around friends, smothered under memories. I want to leave home and the mood, but it happens to also be the way I reconnect with who I am - no veneer.

I find it interesting that I stay awake as long as I do when I think so longingly and lovingly about dreams and all they have to offer. An eight hour escape from reality is amazing, especially for free since most other escapes come after a cost. I suppose a natural fear is the duality of dreams and nightmares and how unpredictable and interchangeable they are. Nightmares are escapes as well but I like to pride myself on never having a bad trip. Not all nightmares are bad either, I suppose.
Mainly the fear is of not having a return: of burning out the unconscious and never dreaming again. I'll have to think about that.