So this weekend I went to Bumbershoot, and all and all I was very pleased. Whenever I go to these types of festivals I am always impressed and awed by the diversity of human creation. It’s amazing how you can cram so many different cultures into so small a space. Just by walking around I was treated to another facet of the world’s collective imagination, and I liked what I saw and heard. The very first thing I did was go to Unwritten Law’s set. Beginning with some good punk wasn’t bad at all. Then I wandered the grounds for a while, watching juggling clowns display their skill on stilts and tent vendors display they’re handcrafted wares. All way too expensive for me of course, which was alright, because I don’t think I saw one thing I would have bought if I even could. But the beauty of window shopping is you often get ideas for things you can do yourself, especially at events like these. I saw everything from Celtic jewelry to painted electric face plates. Then I spotted a line forming, and since it was moving rather quickly I jumped in to see what was drawing the crowd. Battling break dancers. I’ve always been astonished at the moves these men can perform. Gymnasts with rhythm I’ve always considered them. After that I heard something most unusual and was delighted to find a local culture group performing music from India, most of them upbeat tunes from popular movies. And just beyond them was the famous Drum Orb, a modern art piece that also served as musical instrument that as many as six people could play at once. And what music festival would be complete without a lone bagpipe player? I’ve yet to find one that can. And then came the main event. The headliners for the day were Puddle of Mudd and Nickelback, and boy did I get my money’s worth. Nickelback especially put on an awesome show. All this entertainment and only $25 for a day’s ticket. Such a deal!

Sunday was spent sleeping in and catching up on various work type projects. The house was mostly empty except for me and two of my fellow friends/residents. For some random reason we got to talking about the X-Men, a personal favorite subject. I was an avid fan of the old cartoon that used to air on Fox. Any of you who never saw these surely missed out. And then we came up with the genius idea of ordering pizza and watching both the new live-action movies in one sitting. So we did, and I could not picture a better evening spent in front of the TV.

All this and I even got some time in front of the keyboard this weekend! Currently I’m learning about ¾’s time and am playing that old standby “This Old Man”. And I hadn’t thought of this tune in years! Even now the keys are calling me to come and tickle them some more. Ok, I can’t resist. Farewell for now…

I’ve been reading a lot of inspirational quotes lately. The main reason being is that I’m planning to use them in an art project to decorate my room with. Oddly enough though I’m having difficulty finding just the right ones, and since I’m a little bit of a perfectionist when it comes to this stuff that makes it a little harder. Since the quotes I’m looking for are kind of specific that adds an extra degree of challenge to it. All I know for sure is that each quote should have something to do with one of the words on this list:

Life  -  Courage  -  Friendship  -  Love  -  Knowledge  -  Sincerity  -  Reliability  -  Hope  -  Light  -  Kindness  -  Joy  -  Passion  -  Determination

Hmm…maybe I should shorten the list. I have found one quote I really like. It has nothing to do with any of these words really, but it fits me so well I may find a special use for it anyways. To quote the Duchess as she’s speaking to Alice during her adventures in Wonderland:

“You’re thinking about something, my dear, and that makes you forget to talk.”

So Thursday night I took a much appreciated trip down memory lane. I had every intention of going to bed early, but then one of my housemates flopped down the stairs with a DVD in his head. The very first “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” live action movie. Who could say no to that? I was a turtle maniac when I was a little kid. I had action figures, I had comic books, I watched the cartoon almost religiously, and I loved the movies, even the rather campy third one where they traveled through time. When I was little my favorite was always Donatello. I’m not sure why. Must have been that walk softly and carry a big stick thing. But slowly I grew to really like Raphael. Just his fiery spirit and stubbornness made him seem so exciting to me, and plus I think he has the coolest weapons.

But watching the whole movie and remembering what it was like to be a kid and being on the edge of my seat while watching these pizza chowing, surfer-lingoed green machines kick the snot of guys in black pajamas. Oh the memories! Now I have to find and watch the other two!

Turtle Power

By Partnerz In Kryme

T-U-R-T-L-E Power!
T-U-R-T-L-E Power!
T-U-R-T-L-E Power!
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles!

In a half shell, they're the heroes four.
In this day and age who could ask for more?
The crime wave is high with muggings mysterious.
Our police and detectives are furious,
'Cause they can't find the source,
Of this lethally evil force.
This is serious so give me a quarter.
I was a witness, get me a reporter!
Call April O'Neil in on this case, and
You'd better hurry up, there's no time to waste!
We need help, like quick, on the double.
Have pity on the city, man it's in trouble!
We need heroes like the Lone Ranger
When Tonto came pronto, when there was danger.
They didn't say they'd be there in half an hour,
'Cause they displayed...Turtle Power!

T-U-R-T-L-E Power!
T-U-R-T-L-E Power!
T-U-R-T-L-E Power!
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles!

Now our Miss Reporter was hot on the trail.
Determined to put these crooks in jail.
She spied the bad guys and saw what happened,
But before she knew it, she fell in a trap and caught!
Yeah, she was all alone.
With no friends, and no phone.
Now this was beyond her worst dreams,
'Cause she was cornered by some wayward teens.
Headed by Shredder they were anything but good.
Misguided, unloved, they called them The Foot.
They could terrorize and be angry youths, and
They mugged the people. Who needed proof?
Then from out of the dark came an awesome sound!
Shouted "Cowabunga!" as they hit the ground.
From the field of weeds the heroes rescued the flower
'Cause they possessed...Turtle Power!

Do you stand for what you believe in?
And find the strength to do what's right?
That's TURTLE POWER!

Heroes in half shell, they're on a mission.
When there's a battle got the enemy wishin'
That they stayed at home, instead of fightin'
These ninja masters with moves like lightnin'.
They were once normal, but now they're mutants.
Splinter's the teacher so they are the students.
Leonardo, Michaelangelo, and Donatello,
Make up this group with one other fellow
Raphael. He's the leader of the group
Transformed from the norm by the nuclear goop.
Pizza's the food that's sure to please,
These ninjas are into pepperoni and cheese.
Back to the story, it's not hard to find.
Ninjas not just of the body but of the mind.
These are the words that their master instructed,
But a letter from Shredder has Splinter abducted.
That was the last straw, spring into action.
Step on The Foot, now they're gonna lose traction.
Now this is for real, so you fight for justice,
Your shell is hard so you shout, "They can't bust us four!
Like some old coffee table."
Since you were young you've been willing and able
To defeat the snake, protect the weak,
Fight for rights and the freedom to speak.
Now the villian is showin' so you take a stand.
Back to the wall, put your sword in you hand.
Remember the words of your teacher, your master:
"Evil moves fast, but good moves faster!"
Then light, shining for your illumination:
Good versus Evil equal Confrontation.
So when you're in trouble to give in and go sour,
Try to rely on YOUR...Turtle Power!

“I’d like to

Teach me to

Sing in perfect

Harmony.”

So anyways, this Saturday I was invited to a friend’s house for a barbeque in honor of the annual Lighthouse Festival. It was a pleasant afternoon. I’d never been to his house or his town before, so naturally I was an avid watcher, taking everything in. It’s a beautiful little town with a lot of history to it. Just down the street from his home is an old colonial cemetery. It had maybe ten headstones in it, all of them dating back several hundred years. This tranquil little plot sat on a hill and overlooked a large inlet of water. That evening a barge set out over the water and we were treated to the festivity’s defining moment: a wonderful fireworks display.

I love fireworks. The colors and lights and sounds all mixed together is an experience that everyone needs to have. I hadn’t seen fireworks in a long time, so I had an abundance of oohs and ahhs saved up. As I was sitting there watching the sky ignite with a sparkling flame and a big grin plastered over my face, I contemplated once again just how amazing life can be sometimes. I always think of stuff like this when I see such wondrous sights, and it is a glorious and welcome feeling.

And then I realized it was September 11th. I’d known it was coming up, but I’d had no real plans surrounding the day set. I looked around and saw what had just sort of happened without my noticing it. I was surrounded by good friends and having a good time. My stomach was full from burgers and my eyes were delighted by the spectacle in the sky. Somehow I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the day.

Here’s to life and freedom, and all that goes with it.

“It’s all in the cards. Folks, they talk a lot about playin’ the hand they’re dealt. Dat misses the point. The trick lies in dealin’ the hand.”

~Gambit

It was supposed to be a normal day. I got up at my usual time and got ready for work. I had been having a very good past couple of weeks. Mostly I’d been working and doing my best to just keep busy and have fun where I could and I’d been extremely successful. Sure it had gotten to be somewhat routine but normalcy can be underappreciated sometimes. So I’d been feeling good. Nothing much had been bothering me. A few small nagging thoughts in the back of the mind here and there, but nothing much to be concerned about. Nothing I couldn’t handle. The night before I’d gone to a friend’s house to play cards. After having a great evening having fun with complete strangers I came home and agreed to go down to the state fair on Saturday with a few of my housemates. So I got up feeling good and ready for work. Just another good normal day. But as I seem to have forgotten so many times, my life doesn’t like things to just be normal for too long.

I’d met one of my coworkers while walking to the library and we had a nice conversation to finish off the last bit of the trek. Once we’d gotten there I’d set about ready to collect all of the returned books from the book drops. After that there wasn’t much else to do so I went up to do some shelf reading. This involves going down the shelves and reading the call numbers to make sure everything’s in the right order. Usually not too exciting. So as I was sitting there reading the numbers a strange feeling began to come over me. It was small at first, but it quickly began to grow.

A door in the back of my mind had opened and I was in no way expecting what came through it. A surge of raw emotion came over me, and I was nearly overwhelmed. I tried to focus on the books, but the letters and numbers began to melt together, making no sense at all as my vision began to blur. My heart began to race. My eyes started to tear. My brain went off in a thousand different directions, and I could not come up with one coherent thought. I got up to get a drink of water and my head started to spin. I couldn’t understand it. What was happening to me?

What was it that I was feeling? It wasn’t sadness or loneliness. It wasn’t anger or frustration. The only way to describe it would be a strong sense of confusion, of uncertainty. I felt like I was on the verge of something new and mysterious, something I didn’t know or understand, and as a result I was losing my mind.

Normally I analyze me emotions from all angles whenever I don’t understand something. I try to take the feelings and squash them into nice little categories so I can make sense and deal with them. Naturally I tried this now. I came up with nothing. This was pure raw emotion; completely unprovoked feeling without thought. I felt like I was on the edge of madness, and I couldn’t think of a single reason why.

I couldn’t handle the shelves anymore. I thought maybe I was just tired and needed a break. So I went to the break room and ate my lunch. Hoping that a little rest and food was all I needed, I sat and read my book and slowly began to feel better. Once my break was over I got up and prepared to go back to the shelves, and the intense feelings began to come back. The confusion, the uneasiness, everything. I walked out into the main floor of the library and I didn’t recognize anything. Somehow I made it to the fourth floor. I tried reading the shelves again. It was useless. I got up and wandered over aimlessly to a window. I looked out over the campus. A dreary rainy cloud cover hung in the sky. A squirrel ran across a tree branch. I couldn’t form a single thought. So I just sat and stared. The weird thing is that I wasn’t sad or upset in any way. For reason at all my rational mind had shut itself down and an emotional spirit had engulfed all that I was, and right now I wanted nothing more than to drown it out.

So I ran back downstairs. Two shelving trucks had been set out, one small and one large. I grabbed the large one, even though the smaller truck was first in line and should have gone before the other. I wanted to disappear for a while. And then I grabbed my walkman and stuck my mix tape filled with happy music in it. Technically I wasn’t supposed to be doing this. I had broken two rules in as many minutes. I didn’t care. If my brain wanted to dominate with pure emotion, I was going to show it that it wouldn’t get to me. I stuck my earphones in and pressed play. I walked slowly as I was shelving the books, cheerful tunes playing in my ears. Slowly my manic state faded away and sanity (relative as it is) returned. I felt better.

After work I walked home with a smile on my face. I met a few of my housemates and we made grilled cheese sandwiches and played cards. I was bright and energetic. I gave no signs that anything unusual had gone on. I felt great. But even as I went to bed there was that lingering voice in the back of my head. “What had happened that day? What did it mean?” I may never know the actual answer. All I knew for sure was the song that had really helped me feel better. I hadn’t been worried about anything. I knew things were going to be ok, but it really helps to hear someone else say it.

Every Day Is A Winding Road

By Sheryl Crow

I hitched a ride with a vending machine repairman He said he's been down this road more than twice He was high on intellectualism I've never been there, but the brochure looks nice

Jump in, let's go, lay back, enjoy the show Everybody gets high, everybody gets low These are the days when anything goes

Everyday is a winding road I get a little bit closer Every day is a faded sign I get a little bit closer to feeling fine

He's got a daughter he calls "Easter" She was born on a Tuesday night I'm just wondering why I feel so alone Why I'm a stranger in my own life

Jump in, let's go, lay back, enjoy the show Everybody gets high, everybody gets low These are the days when anything goes

Everyday is a winding road I get a little bit closer Every day is a faded sign I get a little bit closer to feeling fine

I've been swimming in a sea of anarchy I've been living on coffee and nicotine I've been wondering if all the things I've seen Were ever real, were ever really happening

Everyday is a winding road I get a little bit closer Every day is a faded sign I get a little bit closer to feeling fine

So this Saturday I went with a bunch of my housemates to the annual Puyallup Fair. It was a stupendous day and those who want to hear more about it can look here:

http://www.livejournal.com/~zandalf/74921.html

In other news there is only one week left until school starts. I am ready to go back. Summers are nice but it's good having more stuff to do, and boy is this next year going to be busy what with going to school full-time and working part-time. *Prepares for massive burnout.*

I am somewhat cross this morning because I woke up at 5 a.m. for no reason whatsover and continued to toss and turn until I gave into my urges on got up. And it doesn't help that my glasses decided to break yesterday and now I have to make a bunch of phone calls to find an eye doctor who can examine me as soon as possible. Walking around with all this tape on my glasses makes me look like I'm one of the "special" kids.

A dear friend and housemate vacated our happy home this morning. We knew it was coming. We knew all summer long that this would happen. Somehow it’s still a downer. I didn’t know him that well when we moved in together. He was a friend from the dorms who I’d played cards with a few times and had a few good conversations with. But over the months he was here I got to know him so much better, and that was one of the best things about my summer. He will be close by, so I’ll still see him every once in a while, but I’m going to miss him all the same. He wasn’t too shabby of a cook either. He left two apple pies in our freezer. But he has a job to do. He was (through the most of unusual of circumstances) elected a dorm hall president for this year, and I know he’ll do us all proud!

I’m also feeling better since I got my new glasses yesterday. It, to my complete astonishment and delight, it only took an hour and I could see clearly again! That just made my entire day, which is good because work was a nightmare. Some high school class came to the library today and made a complete mess of the place. Books and food wrappers everywhere…I had to pick up 425 books today! And so many of them came from the section dedicated to sex and gay and lesbian studies. What in the world are these kids studying?!

So as I think I mentioned at some point school starts in less than a week. This is fantastic and I can hardly wait. And with work as well that means I will have significantly less free time. This is both a good and bad revelation. Good because I like keeping busy; bad because that means I have a lot less time for other “less pressing” activities. These include things like reading for pleasure, watching movies, playing keyboard, and mindsay blogging.

Yeah, since my schedule will be jam-packed this year (most days I will be spending more than ten hours on campus, in addition to other responsibilities) my mindsay activity will fall considerably. This is rather sad as I enjoy reading what other people are writing. And I guess there are a few people who enjoy the gibberish I post every once in a while.

It almost doesn’t matter that much. I’ve been thinking lately that I haven’t really done anything all that interesting with this blog lately and it’s mostly become a summary of my recent activities (the noteworthy ones anyway). I’d like to do something more with it, like write more thought provoking pieces or bizarre poetry, but lately it seems that whenever I have an idea I’d like to pursue in writing I can’t hold on to it for very long, and so you get to read snippets of things like “I went pear picking” or “This was a good movie”. Not riveting as far as I’m concerned. I know I can do better, but it may be a very long while before I have the luxury of doing so.

….Or maybe I should just stay up later and produce something more interesting.

“Come On”

By Ben Jelen

And finally the silence,
looking out
looking back across the sky,
Trying to find a meaning,
knowing that I just left it all behind
Still I smell a lingering softness
Where did she go,
how did she go,
I wanna know
I wanna know that she'll be coming
here to me

Come on,
without you
I'll never feel the love inside of me
Come On, you know that we belong
come on, come on, come on, come on

Thinking back before her,
I never knew the meaning of alone
Still the flag is feeling foreign,
I live the day to escape into a phone
Speaking of a world not real then
where did she go
how did she go,
I wanna know
I wanna know that she'll be coming
here to me

Come on,
without you
I'll never feel the love inside of me
Come On, you know that we belong
come on, come on

Cause each of the kisses and my heart...
She's coming,
She's coming here to me,
I'm needing,
desiring to kiss her now,
I'm living for her,
breathing for her,
singing for her fairytale.

Come on,
without you
I'll never feel the love inside of me
Come On, you know that we belong
come on, come on

It’s songs like this that really make me wish I had more time for piano. I dream of playing like this someday.

So on Saturday I was presented with a rather strange opportunity. Most of my housemates had vanished due to various engagements. I was expecting this and had meant to figure out something for me to do, but a busy Friday night had prevented me from planning anything concrete. So I was left at home with a friend and we attempted to brainstorm for some plausible ideas. The only one I could really come up with is doing the dishes. So I set about gathering all the stray plates and glasses that seem to take up residence all over the house and pile them in the dishwasher. My friend went downstairs. Once I’d finished loading and started the machine back up he came with a large grin on his face. He then proceeded to ask me what could possibly be the most random question I’ve ever had to answer in my life. “You want to go to Canada?”

I stared in silence for a few moments, blinking several times. Of all the possibilities of spending and afternoon that had entered my head leaving the country had not been on that list. I’d never been to the Great White North before, and I admit to forgetting that it’s actually not that far away from where I live. I should take advantage of this at some point, right? So I said sure. We got in my friend’s car and proceeded to drive towards the border, picking up a tourist guide on our way in attempt to answer the question “What does one do in Canada?” Ending up in Vancouver we parked the car and walked towards the waterfront. Once there we started a self-guided tour of the downtown area, during which we saw:

• Very large cruise liners
• Anti-war protesters
• The Christ Church Cathedral (currently closed for renovations)
• Robson Square and the law courts (with a serious of impressive waterfalls)
• Several strange art sculptures
• The front of the Vancouver Art Gallery
• The historic Hudson's Bay store (I don't know why it's historic; just that it's like any other high end department store)
• Plenty of Saturday mall crawlers
• A city wide public arts display involving many uniquely painted orcas (one of them named Orca Presley)
• Gastown's famous Steam Clock
• Chinatown
• Dr. Sun Yat-Sen's Classical Chinese Garden
• Vancouver Lookout! Harbour Centre Tower (from the top you could see all of the city and Mt. Baker, along with the setting sun in one direction and the rising moon in the other)
• Hooters (we actually considered eating there at one point, but didn’t after deciding we weren’t that desperate for food)

Even though we had almost no money and spent most of the day walking, it was quite the enjoyable experience. Quite the payoff for being incredibly spontaneous.

The beginning of a new year has always held some excitement for me. This one does assuredly as well, but there’s something different about it. This year is going to be very different from previous collegiate experiences in many ways, and the sum total of it all is giving me pause. I know I can handle it. I’m sure it’ll be a blast. But something here is nagging away at the back of my skull. Could it be something is changing that I wish would stay the same? It almost feels like that’s the case, but I can’t seem to place the feeling on anything concrete.

There’s a full moon out tonight. I seem to get in these weird introverted moods whenever that happens. *raises an eyebrow* I like being me, but sometimes I wonder what could possibly have happened to turn me into such a nutbar.

The first day of school: it’s epic in its own special way. The voyage of discovery. The enlightening of the soul. The prospect of new possibilities. I’ve always found it exciting, even though I’ve made this journey more than fourteen times now. Classes that you thought would be interesting prove you otherwise and the classes you really didn’t care about actually open you up to a new idea. Sure routine slips in eventually, but there is always something special about the first day.

First days are hectic events. You race around finding your new classrooms. You double-check your schedule the necessary thirty-five times. You delight in finding you had a class with a friend and didn’t realize it, and then you have a class with absolutely no familiar faces. You look over your new teachers, instinctively deciding which ones you will like and which ones may bore you to tears. You read syllabi, making doubly sure to notice the exam dates and when papers are due (only to inevitably forget them and have it come back as a total surprise weeks later). It’s a process I look forward to.

Of course it wasn’t always this way. School used to be a lot simpler. Your mom roused you out of bed and pushed you out the door. You played games at the bus stop with the other kids while waiting for the big yellow machine to come. You sat in one room for hours on end. You knew all the faces in your class and they knew yours. Anonymity was nonexistent. You had one “professor”, and they would call you by your first name, when they were happy with you of course. You counted the minutes to recess so you could race to the swings. Lunch came in a paper sack and consisted of peanut butter sandwiches, chips, an apple, and a bag of fruit snacks. Textbooks were free of charge as well as something you left at school and were expected to give back at the end of the year. Your hectic after school schedule was blocked in by Duck Tales cartoons and frolicking in the backyard. Homework took about fifteen minutes. Study was the room your dad went in to make phone calls and watch golf on TV.

Very little of that remains. I got up to a blaring alarm clock and stumbled out the door of the house I pay rent for to the bus stop. Other students were waiting with me, but no games were played. Mostly we looked at our watches and shivered. The bus was not yellow, and it took me to an eye doctor’s appointment first. I found my classes and proceeded to watch the other “kids” wander in, some of whom were twice my age. Here and there I recognized a face, but for the most part I was one person in a sea of educatees. If I wanted to go unnoticed it would be frighteningly easy. I brought out my schedule and proceeded to find time to squeeze in studying and workouts around class time and work hours. I wondered how I would manage to make everything fit. I sadly have no room for Duck Tales. My class was over in less than an hour. Recess has become much longer, but most of it is spent running around campus finding things or sitting at a library computer answering emails. Homework is almost nonexistent, except for the few assignments that evolve into the dreaded all-nighters. When I got the chance I made my way to the university bookstore. My textbooks were all brand new, which means really expensive and heavy. After I shelled out what seemed like a ridiculous amount of cash for the books I climbed the stairs to the new café that was put in over the summer. I pulled out the campus newspaper and prepared to eat the lunch I had packed for myself that morning. I paused.

A peanut butter sandwich, chips, an apple, and a bag of fruit snacks.

A feeling, not quite like déjà vu but close, washes over me. After a moment I smile to myself, although I’m not entirely sure why.

Saturday I had plans to be productive. I was going to play catch-up so I wouldn’t feel like I was behind in everything when the school week started. Somehow the Seattle DOL (also known as the DMV in some areas) sucked the life right out of those plans. I have officially spent too much time in there lately, and I’ve got nothing to show for it. I need to get my driver’s license renewed (which is kind of ironic since I don’t currently own a car), but they aren’t being very helpful about it. I’ll stop there, because what follows is not worth ranting over. But after my useless trip there and back I quite felt like I was not going to be much successful in anything else that day. I tried, but I really just felt physically lousy. It was one of those days where gravity seems to be a little bit more aggressive than usual, and the only position that feels even remotely comfortable is lying down. But I tried to sit at my computer and do some work, but it seems I only had the capacity to engage in the most honorable time-consuming internet activity there is: online quizzes. So I took many random test to discover interesting facts about myself, yet for some reason on about half of them I would click to submit my answers and they would refuse to show me my results. This felt way more frustrating than it probably should have. Finally I decided to sit in bed and read some Dave Barry books (a good uplift if there ever was one) but instead I stared at the wall for ten minutes, which is about how long it took me to realize that I’d been staring at the wall for ten minutes. So I decided to just go to bed, and get up eleven hours later.

Sunday I meant to try again, and things went remarkably better. Perhaps the batteries just needed a recharge, or maybe there is something bothering me that I’m refusing to acknowledge and it’s wearing me out. I hope it’s the former. I’m not in the mood for mind games.

I've come to realize that I seem to have my most profound thoughts in one of two places. The first is the great outdoors. The second is wandering the stacks while working in the library. Maybe it's the silence or perhaps it's the isolation, but one way or another when I enter one of these two places my head begins to ponder the strangest things without any real provoking whatsoever. Most of last night was spent on a complicated situation between two friends. It led me to wonder: I know I cannot fix everything, and I would prefer to stay as uninvolved in this complication as possible. But what do you do when the problem keeps rising up before you and forcing you into the mix? Is it ok to sit back and do nothing, operating under the premise that it truly is none of your business, but you can't help thinking later of the sadness that you know is there but the person refuses to show?

If I could manufacture a relationship magic wand I'd make enough money to buy France.

A random fact about me: I volunteer as an online peer counselor at Teen Advice Online. Basically what I do is receive emails from teenagers and parents and they present me with their personal problems and I give them advice and support. I’ve written to people all over the world and have answered all kinds of questions. These “helps”, as those of us at TAO like to call them, can take many forms. I’ve given advice about friendship and doing well in school. I’ve answered questions about love and breakups. I’ve given ideas to parents about how to handle rebellious kids. And I’ve gotten some questions that are just downright hilarious and surprising.

I’ve dealt with more serious subjects as well. Rape, child abuse, low self-esteem, depression, and even suicide; these subjects unfortunately are all too common. Writing to these real teenagers can fill me with a great satisfaction, especially when they reply with warm and appreciative thank yous. It lets me feel like I’ve made an impact and really done something good for someone else.

Every now and then I get a question that really stands out and makes me think. Recently I did get a question like that. I knew almost right away what I wanted to say to this person and replied accordingly, but I’d like to see what other people’s thoughts on it were:

"I know this all sounds pretty bogus and unimportant compared to some of the questions you guys are asked but I am doing a speech on why people, teens specifically need love and acceptance. I was hoping that I could get some input from you on this topic. I was wondering basically just why we need love I know that a person can't survive without at least one other person who they can talk to and feel accepted by, but why is that??? Everyone I’ve gone to has told me this and they've also told me that many people will take negative attention over no attention at all but no one can really say why so that’s what I wanted to know. Thank you so much for taking the time to help me out with this!!!"

The all-time consuming activities of going to class, working out, just plain working, studying for exams, and figuring out which classes I'm going to take next quarter have prevented me from writing anything here lately. However, that didn't prevent a friend of mine from doing so. He wrote an interesting post on a subject that I wish I had more time to delve into. You can read his post here:

http://www.livejournal.com/~zandalf/

Thus, providing myself with a sneaky way of posting without having to think of anything.

:D

My head is spinning. I have a million things to do and I can't even remember what they all are. Tests, applications, future plans, work, personal responsibilities and aspirations. Where the heck am I supposed to find the time for all this without going crazy? Please someone write a book that details the answer. Or better yet why don't you just come do my homework?

*returns to the textbook, which is beginning to look like a cheesecake*

As seen on a T-Shirt while I was at the IMA:

"Give it all you got!"

My eyes are drooping after an excruciating long and horrid day. The Seattle Department of Licensing has become a most vicious and unforgiving opponent. We are waging a war with slow and painful progress. The prize? At this point it seems to be my sanity, or whatever shredded bit seems to be left of it. I’ve wasted entirely too much time in this place in recent months, and for one reason after another I have very little to show for it. But I’m not giving up. With time and patience (and a hard head) I will win in the end.

How I’m supposed to find time to write a paper about Howard Hawks’ fantastic film “His Girl Friday” is beyond me. I’m staring at the clock right now and wondering when was the last time I felt this tired before one a.m. I’m not sure, but the call of the pillow is too strong for me to resist anymore. Some battles are better off lost.

I’m praying for sweet dreams tonight. I haven’t had any in a while which is rather disappointing.

Went Christmas shopping today. "Christmas shopping? On the day after Thanksgiving? Are you insane?" Yes, but that's beside the point. I was motivated to go out and start the whole process today, mostly because I wanted some productive alone time (the fact that the house was completely empty was a big help as well). I was very high spirited because last year I managed to finish the entire activity in one afternoon. I was so proud of this feat that I wanted to duplicate it. I'd didn't quite succeed like I'd hoped, and I believe this was due to two main reasons:

1. Last year I was running on an adrenaline high caused by going out with a group of friends to see "The Return of the King" in theaters, with a screening time of midnight. Once we'd finished the film we went to IHOP for breakfast and then back to the dorms just as the sun was rising. I went to bed and slept until one in the afternoon, waking up to feel more refreshed than I could possibly imagine (especially since I'd finished finals already).
2. Buying people the same thing two years in a row is probably a social faux pas.

So I ran into a bit of a mental roadblock. I'd had a very enjoyable Thanksgiving with a friend's family, but I was still kind of tired the next day. I never know what to get people, and I'm one of those sentimentalists that likes to find something special. A lot of the time this ends up being movies or chocolate. Always a winner, but not really memorable. It's the thought that counts I suppose.

I also got kind of distracted wandering around downtown. Everywhere I look there are people, and being the natural people watcher I am my "observe and analyze" portion of my brain got quite a workout. A lot of panhandlers were out. One was playing a violin. Another a xylophone. Another a set of drums made out of plastic buckets. Would you believe they all sounded good? I prefer quiet wilderness to noisy cities, but they have an excitement all their own. Just watching so many people walk by and marvel at the thought that each one has their own full lives, their own strange ideas, their own ambitions. It's awe inspiring in a way...

I clearly need to get out more. I think it's time to start planning some outrageous adventure. I think I'm due for one.

It doesn't matter who walks in; the joke is still the same. No more amused; just scream in tune and be delivered, you dead-end child. So keep on letting go cause I must be close to being delivered for the first time. Come clean with a laugh and an angel, singing hymns of love and cherry pies. Harmonicas tune, guitars fly, hopes rise and hide, but what else matters when friends abound like circus clowns? But I'll still be here and am waiting for all. The rain will be gone in the morning.

...or something like that. ;)

It’s the first day of December! That means the holiday season is knocking at the door. It means cookies and presents and trees and twinkling lights and music and togetherness and snowmen and goodwill and warm fireplaces. Woohoo! I can hardly wait!

I wonder how you yourself classify someone as a close friend? Is it someone you see nearly every day? Someone you can tell your deepest thoughts too? Someone who understands you completely and you are always comfortable with? Someone who you can spend staggering amounts of time with and never get tired of? I’m not entirely sure how I define it myself. Friendship is something I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about over the past couple years.

You say you feel like you have no close friends right now. The way you word that makes me curious. You apparently have had close friends before. Where could they have gone? Isn’t it once a friend always a friend no matter what? I, oddly enough, have found myself pondering the term “friends forever”. This is because I am deathly afraid that there is no such thing. I’ve heard people talk and I’ve seen so many examples of friendships that seem to be nothing more than transitional. People come into our lives like a whirlwind and often leave just as quickly and easily, staying only as long as they are able to or as long as the feel it’s convenient for them. People can be kind of selfish that way. This has happened to me many times throughout life, and it has left me wondering: did the time we had together mean anything? How could someone I presumably care for so much just get up and leave, abandoning the connection we had like so much an empty bag of chips? Had they taken all they could from me and moved onto to the next little “snack” they intended to consume?

Bad metaphors aside, this never fails to make me sad. Most of my life I have defined myself as the ultimate loner, many times by necessity and other times out of fear. I don’t make friends easily, and the real ones I sometimes feel like I can count on one finger. I have heard that you are supposed to be your own best friend. In many cases that makes perfect sense, but it’s still pretty damn lonely. I understand and accept change as inevitable, but I still abhor and dread it often. I don’t want things to change. I don’t want people to leave, but they do. I can live with some friendships fading away, but there are some people I don’t ever want to lose. The thought of that happening scares me. It may be entirely for self-indulgent reasons, but does that really matter?

So what do you do when these insecurities arise? I haven't completely decided yet. Since you never know exactly what life has in store for you, or anyone else that matter, I think one of your best options is to take every opportunity to be with people that you can get. Enjoy it, appreciate it, and give thanks for it. It makes for wonderful memories, and that should at least count for something.

Yes, winter break is approaching quickly! And I've got big day ahead of me. Have to tackle that animal psychology test this morning, then to film class to view our last movie. Then home for a nap and maybe some keyboard practice. Throw some food in there and a game of pinochle with some friends and we'll call it good.

Oh wait...I almost forgot about tonight. How could I forget that I was going to...*grins devilishly*

Phoenix:

1. A mythical bird, of gorgeous plumage, fabled to be the only one of its kind, and to live five or six hundred years in the Arabian desert, after which it burnt itself to ashes on a funeral pile of aromatic twigs ignited by the sun and fanned by its own wings, but only to emerge from its ashes with renewed youth, to live through another cycle of years.

2. A person (or thing) of unique excellence or of matchless beauty; a paragon. That which rises from the ashes of its predecessor.

I can't believe I'm about to say all this, but I think it's about time that I did. This is a world of many fears and I know deep down what it is that scares me the most: being alone. And I mean really alone, no friends, no family, no special someone to share your life with. Just me and me alone. These fears aren't entirely unfounded, because I know exactly what it feels like. To think that there's no one out there who wants you, that there's no one out there who needs you. No one to miss you when you're gone, no one to get excited when you come back. No one...no one at all.

Why do I know this? Doesn't it sound a tad bit ridiculous to know what it's like to be completely by yourself? Maybe it does, but I swear I do and it's not comforting. For as long as I can remember all of my relationships in life have operated under one single premise:

sooner or later, everyone leaves.

Not exactly comforting, is it? But it's a deep belief that I've found impossible to shake. When I was younger I didn't have very many friends, but I did have a couple of good ones. One was a girl that lived in my neighborhood. She and I used to play all the time. We'd cross the big field in between our houses and play all sorts of games. Once we didn't even phone ahead and passed each other in the field without seeing the other. We made it to each others' houses only to discover we'd each already gone to find the other! And then one day her family made her move out of state. I've seen her twice since then. We never talk.

At this time I also had another friend. A boy who I considered to be my best friend at the time. We were at an age where common interests weren't really a major factor in friendship. Just having someone to play imaginary games with and have fun was all that was required. We continued on this way for a while. I think the only reason it lasted as long as it did is that we didn't go to the same school for many years. During my school years I wasn't exactly mister social. Remember that quiz I posted last time? That was me, so much so it's not even funny. I was the wierd social outcast. I never talked, and people avoided me like I had the plague. I made them nervous, and when it came time for recess more often than not I was left to wander around the playground by myself. Why was I so shy and reclusive? My parents had a very ugly divorce, and I was left with this rather nasty feeling that I was suppossed to take care of myself. A lot of pressure for a six year old, and dealing with people wasn't any easier because of it.

But my friend never knew about my strange behavior. We went to different schools across time, so he never saw my strange behavior. He never saw how the other kids acted around me. I was just a regular guy to him, and that felt so good. But come middle school we had to go to school together. The illusion was gone. Now he could see me as everyone else did. Over the years our friendship slowly faded away, and one day it was just gone. Someone I had once considered my best friend and I couldn't even make eye contact when we passed in the hallway. He may have been my best friend once, but I was most definitely not his. I swore I'd never make that mistake again.

Through high school I tried to make friends with another general group of people. I don't know what it was that attracted me to them in the first place, but I was and I tried to include myself in their circle. For a while it seemed to work. It felt nice, but there was something missing. My involvement with these people never went anywhere beyond the lunch table where we just sat and talked during class breaks. I began to feel like I wasn't really noticed by them at all. Eventually I just disappeared. I still wonder if they noticed if I left or not.

By the end of high school I was basically a hermit. I never talked unless I had to, and when I did it was as minimal as possible. People were fine leaving me alone, and I couldn't blame them. I was stressed to the ultimate point, and just getting up everyday and functioning took every ounce of effort I had.

Where was my family during all of this? Ever since my parents' divorce things had been really shaky. Sure we had our good times and I loved them dearly, but there was a lot of negative stuff that I'd much rather forget. Sure, every family has its difficult times, but it felt like mine had more than its fair share. My parents put tons of pressure on me before I graduated, and I never felt like I was meeting their expectations. I got yelled at a lot, usually for things that weren't my fault. My parents do not like each other at all, and refuse to talk. That means all my life I had to play messenger boy, and if one person didn't like what I had to deliver they couldn't rail on the sender, so they did on me instead. And my stepdad and I never got along at all. For no reason at all he once called me a "big dick with no balls". I never told anyone about this, but it hurt like hell. Things have gotten a lot better between me and my family since I've moved out, but sometimes those old wounds still bother me a little.

Eventually I moved out and went to college in another state. No friends, no family, clean slate. I wanted to start over. But it's kind of hard to do that when you're carrying a lot of excess baggage. So for a while I was completely by myself. No one to talk to, no one to have fun with. I could picture myself going on into my thirties and beyond living like that. I got up. I worked. I came home. And that was it. No one calling. No one to spend time with. It freaked me out, and what followed is something I'm not particularly proud of.

Have you ever honestly and seriously wished you were dead? I hope not; it's not a pleasant feeling. I have, and for a very brief and terrifying period I began to toy with the idea of making that wish a reality. I wanted out. I wanted it all to stop. And it seemed like my last and only resort.

Fortunately I changed my mind. I tried again, and I made some friends. Real ones. Ones that I care for very much. They've done a lot for me, whether they realize it or not, and I would do anything for them. I even may go so far as to say I've found a best friend. An assumption I once swore I'd never make again. But this time it seems so real. So wonderful and fulfilling. I actually feel happy. And that's what scares the crap out of me.

I have never had a relationship last more than a couple years. Eventually everyone moves on and leaves me behind. I have yet to see an example to the contrary. Several people have told me that the friends you make in college are ones you keep for the rest of your life. I want to believe that. I really really do, but every example I see says otherwise. Neither of my parents ever talk about their college friends. If I ask they only mention their old roommates. I don't think they've seen or talked any of them in years. They've made other friends since then, so I know this is a process that continues throughout life. But I really love the friends I have now, and if I were to lose them I don't know if I could handle it. And the thought of having to constantly look for new friends to fill the void of old ones is a daunting one.

And there's this nagging feeling that eventually that's what will happen. They all have lives to live. They all have dreams they want to pursue. One day soon they'll graduate and go one to chase those dreams wherever they may take them. It's as it should be, but that means they'll leave me behind. I wouldn't want to hold them back, but then I think of them moving away. We may keep in touch with email for a while, we may see every once in while, but I fear that eventually it will go the way of all my other relationships and they'll slowly fade away until there's nothing left. I can't see the future, so I don't know if any of my relationships will really last after college ends. The thought of it makes me sick to my stomach. I know things change, but aren't there some things that should always stay the same? I want to believe that a friendship can last. I want to believe there is such a thing as "friends forever", but part of me refuses to because I have yet to see one that has.

I was thinking about this last night, and it spooked me in a way I'd hoped I'd never have to feel again. Even as I type this it make my hands shake to think about it. I was really scared and lonely, and I wanted a hug. Under the current situation that wasn't possible. So I did something else. From my old home I brought a stuffed dog named Shaggy. He looks like a bearded collie and I've had him forever. I took him from my dresser, got in bed deep under the covers, squeezed him tight, and went to sleep. I've never fallen asleep with a stuffed animal before, even when I was younger. It actually comforted me a little, even if I couldn't shake the thoughts that were racing through my head. They say everything looks better in the morning, and I feel a little better, even if I'm still a little uneasy.

Did I really just write all that? I guess so. It's interesting to think that I could spill so much to a bunch of total strangers, but it's a lot better than keeping it inside where no one can see. Thanks for listening.

Ok, so technically work was over, but still. Hide and seek, after-hours, in a great big empty library? Who could resist? When it's just the four of you and you have five big empty floors of bookshelves all to yourself how could you not want to play a few rounds. Our supervisor was cool with it, although we were breaking all sorts of rules. But you only live once right?

Of course we had neglected to think of one thing: whether or not anyone else would come in after the library had closed. And someone did as part of the cleaning staff. Had they known we were there they probably wouldn't have cared, but since we were worried about them reporting us we resorted to slinking around behind their backs for several minutes and then quickly making our escape into the early morning hours. The most excitement I've ever had at work.

So change of plans: go home and watch a movie. "Whatever it Takes": hands down the worst teen movie I have EVER seen. View at your own risk, and even then only with the proper supervision and artificial respirators.

As of 10:08 this morning I am officially done with finals. Pardon me while I go scream in jubilation. Some finals went well. Some went ok. Others just went. It is just so good to be done though. No more pencils, no more books, no more teachers' sassy looks (actually all my profs were guys this quarter, but you get the idea)!

My books have been sold ($84, my best return ever!), my bag is being packed (total lie, I'm doing my laundry), and I've got just one more night of work before I jet off down south for the holiday festivity extravaganza! Deck the halls and trim the trees! Pull out the fudge and sugar cookies! Bring me some snow and Christmas music (please dear lord mom, no Kenny G this year). It's time to engage in some good ol' fashioned American consumerism!

Caffeine? Never touch the stuff. I'm high on massive amounts of relief, very little sleep, and Lucky Charms...Mostly Lucky Charms. You should see my roommates. Every time I sneeze they dive behind couches and out open windows. I'm not crazy: my therapist told me so.

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat the eleventh grade.

         ~James W. Loewen

Found this quote randomly on the net. Couldn't resist.

I saw "National Treasure" in the theater today. I'd heard it was going to be a really cheesy movie, and perhaps on some level it was, but I really enjoyed it. History is a very interesting subject, although I don't have the brain to remember dates and names like the quiz people on Jeopardy do. I'm the psychology major, so I'm always more interested in the people and the stories behind them.  I'm especially entranced by old legends of the past. Mythical stories about gods and temples and long lost civilizations: all these things the people of old times believed in. They were always tales of fantastic events filled with heroes and demons and journeys to faraway places. I guess that would explain why I love watching movies so much. I love stories, especially ones with adventure.

I need an adventure. It's been far too long since I've gone anywhere truly exciting. The last time I "went out" on a Saturday night it was to a bowling alley. *smiles sheepishly and rolls eyes* I need to go and explore some undiscovered territory, scale some unsurpassable mountain, risk life and limb for the pure adrenaline rush.

But right now it's the Holiday season (one of my favorite times of year). Perfect for relaxing indoors with friends and family; not so hot on the "going where no man has gone before" urge. I'll be here at my old home right up until school starts, and then I'll have class and work for another couple months. But then spring break will be here! The time will be mine and the possibilities will be endless. The imagination is stirring and an adventure awaits! Who's with me? :D

I did it! I finally got my driver's license renewed! Yee-haaw! After all these long ridiculously hair-pulling months of aggravation I finally have a valid I.D! So what if it's registered in a state that I no longer live in? So what if it makes me look like I have a skin condition (I think walking corpse is the correct medical term)? That's one of the cemented laws of the universe. I don't care! I can drive again! Do you know what this means?...It means I can go the store and buy my mom eggs and Almond bark, which I finally found after going to four different grocery stores...Oh well, the time passed and I love to drive. I just turn the radio up loud and that's all I need.

The December 20 and 22 entries at http://www.queenofwands.net/ were quite interesting. Check them out if you will.

Merry Christmas to all!

It's almost 8:00 and I'm close to being ready for bed. I woke up way too early this morning for no reason whatsoever, and that always bugs me. I don't know if I want to wait until the new year comes or not. I'll be spending most of the evening by myself and right now I'm tired and kind of bored. Holidays went as expected: as always, a mixed bag. For the most part I enjoyed it and now I want to just fly home and rest (for one day) before school starts again. Unfortunately it looks like no one is able to come to my rescue and pick me up at the airport, so that means I'll end up lugging my suitcase on a crowded shuttle bus downtown at 11:00 at night. I've done this before, so I'm used to it. I just really wish I didn't have to. I suppose I could try emailing random people and asking one more time for a ride, but I doubt anyone will see it/find a spare moment in time, and I don't really care that much right now anyways. The only real downside is the "lonely traveler" syndrome: meaning getting off the plane and there's no happy face to greet you. My absolutely least favorite part about flying.

But not to worry, because all things are made better by the fact that I can look out the window and see snow!!! About three feet of it to be exact. I wanted a really good snowfall before I left because everything is so pretty here when it's covered in white, and I got it!! Wishes are an awesome thing!

Edit (The next morning): Out of the blue three different people emailed to offer me a ride home from the airport. See previous comment on wishes. ;)

And so another quarter of school begins. It feels odd to wake up for an 8:30 class (ugh) and then have nothing "planned" until 4:00 that afternoon. You'd be surprised about how many hours that adds up to. I know eventually I will have plenty to study to fill the long hours with until I dash off to my home away from home (the campus library) but at the moment it just seems odd to have a rare moment of peace while others are busy falling asleep in lectures and dashing between classrooms. I could take a nap, but of course, eventually I will find myself grumbling about not having enough time to do everything. Strange.

So here's a random idea: do they make hats for people with mohawks? I mean you'd want to wear something over it when it rains so that it doesn't get wet. You have any idea how much moose you need to get it that way? Defying gravity ain't cheep ya know.

Disclaimer: I've never actually had a mohawk. The most I've ever done to my hair is dye it blue, and only for one night a couple of times.

The rain is pouring in buckets. I barely notice. The cold snaps over my nose. It barely registers. I'm out for a walk on the darkest of nights. I'm avoiding people. I just can't deal with anyone right now. I'm confused and about what I have no idea. It's not a loathsome worry or a pressing concern. It's more like a small weight in the back of my mind. Hidden, mysterious, sly, and yet ever-present and taunting me to look inward, to stare it in the face and discover what secrets it's keeping, just for me.

I walk forward through the dark woodland path, away from the light, away from any life at all. I clasp the charm around my neck: the small metal cross with a soft glass bead in the center. I bought it from an old lady in small downtown mall on a cold dismal day and then braided a cord to hang it on. For some reason I wear it everywhere now. It feels really heavy all of a sudden.

Someone is trying to tell me something. The voice is soft and low, echoing in the back of that luminous and misty world that is my head. I close my eyes looking inside, searching ever searching for the source of this strange voice. The harder I strain to hear its message the more it slips away from me. I'm afraid I'll lose it, because it hasn't answered my questions yet. What are you trying to tell me? What do you want? I force it through, demanding with impatience and urgency. The more I push the farther away the voice becomes and the more frustrated I become, and then it comes to me. I relax and back off. I wait, breathing in and out in a smooth rhythmic pattern and ease. And slowly the voice drifts to me, quiet at first but gaining in strength while still being low and gentle. And then I hear...

"Look up."

I do, and my heart suddenly jumps into my throat. The rain has stopped. What I see is the moon, shinning bright and beautifully in an otherwise pitch black sky. My mind knows nothing else but that powerful glowing image and I have a sudden realization.

Something is coming.

This was said in front of me today...twice...in two different lectures...a scant two hours in between each...by two completely different people...one was my psychology of sports professor...the other was my Egypt professor...

...I have never heard this term before. I've read it in books. I've seen it used in movies. I know what it means. But I've never actually heard someone use it before, and then I go and hear it twice in the same day by two different lecturers in regards to two completely different topics (influence of coaches and translation of hieroglyphics).

Oddly enough, both times the phrase was uttered it was in the same classroom.

It got me to thinking: there are more "wise sayings" in this world than there are grammar rules, but who in the heck comes up with these ridiculous ramblings? Are they based on actual events? *Pictures a baby flying in a bathtub, suds billowing out like clouds, a rubber ducky sailing along behind.*

.......

Forget it. I think I'll have pizza tonight.

I find myself facing many decisions lately. It's starting to wear me out. Being an adult can really be stressful sometimes, especially if you aren't used to it. I sure as hell am not. I'm learning, little by little, all these little details of life that when you're younger never enter your mind. "What am I going to make for dinner tonight? How am I going to talk to my boss about this? What am I going to be doing one year from now?" Some questions don't take much mental power. Others can be real brain teasers.

"How was I going to pay for school?" That one consumed me all last quarter. It drove me nuts doing all that research on student loans and trying to fill out applications and all that. I often felt like I was going nowhere, and the prospect of not being able to fund your education can be a little unnerving to say the least. I often found myself harboring silent jealousies at some of my friends who didn't have to worry about such issues. I may have finally figured out where the money is going to come from, even if it hasn't fully been realized yet.

Then I get to the future. "What am I going to do when I graduate?" I haven't made any official plans yet, but my current idea works like this. I more then likely will be graduating by next Christmas. I will earn my degree and then go down to visit with my family for the holidays. After that I'm going to reward myself by taking a nice long trip somewhere. Sounds cool. "Where would I go?" I'm not quite sure. Probably somewhere foreign. "Will anyone be going with me?" I really don't know. I hope so.

But anyway, I'll travel until the money runs out (:P) and then I will come back and work full-time for a little while. If understand correctly I can keep my job at the library if I want to, and then in the fall I will hopefully start grad school. I really want to actually do something with my psychology degree, and that means more school of course. Eventually I'd have to talk to my advisor about that, which I intend to do very soon. My dad brought up the possibility of going somewhere else for grad school. It's an idea I never considered. I suppose it has it's merits, but I have no idea where I would go. Besides, I love it here and I've worked so hard to establish a base here. It may not be entirely for sure, but this feels a lot like home to me now.

That's the one that suddenly hit me. I'd been sitting around thinking of all these future plans and one extremely simple but important question had failed to rise up until now. "So where am I going to live next year?" No one asked me this; it just popped up in my mind. It's amazing how something so basic can become so complicated. Thing is I really like my current situation. I live in a nice house (nice for college students anyway) that's a good distance from campus. It's close enough to make going back and forth quick, but far enough away that I'm away from the unnecessary hustle and bustle. And I live with some awesome people, some of the best friends I've ever had. I really would like to keep this set-up the way it is for another year, or at least until I graduate.

Trouble is I may be the only one. By the end of this school year most of the house will have graduated and moved on to the next phase of their lives. I am perfectly fine with that, except it means I may have to be looking for a new place sooner than I would have liked. I knew it would happen eventually, but I wasn't ready for it quite just yet. There's a word for this. I think it's security. I like feeling that I have a nice firm base that I can depend on. I don't want to start all over again so soon. Perhaps I get too attached to certain things. Too comfortable I suppose.

Welcome to adulthood. As always I'm probably making a bigger deal out of this than I need to, and who knows what will eventually end up happening. In any case I probably don't need to really start figuring this out until about May, so I've got some time. I always tell myself that I should enjoy every moment that I have in whatever good place I have. Ever notice how you're own advice is sometimes the hardest to take?

Peace out.

I'm in another one of my strange moods, and you know what that means.

Yep, I may be posting another thought-provoking glimpse into my personal thoughts soon. I'm not quite sure when or what it will end up being, but that's what makes it interesting!

Yesterday I was so flustered I couldn't remember my own phone number when making an appointment with my advisor. I think I may be trying to do too much at once. Either days need to be longer or I need to be two people. Being two people would probably work better except it would mean so much laundry.

Curses...

A large man suddenly dropped in front of me. Turns out it was a window washer. I was afraid it was space invaders.

I'm starting to hate computers. They waste too much time and they give me a headache if stare at them for too long. How odd it seems that so much of my world revolves around the CPU. Email, homework, class websites, research, entertainment, travel plans, music, movies, etc. etc. etc. It's ridiculous just how much I use these things. I almost never watch TV, but every time I sit in front of a computer I feel like I'm really being lazy and wasting my time, no matter WHAT I'm doing. And it's so easy to get distracted with this crursed thing called the internet. There's so much on it that you can find sites on any subject that you can come up with and countless more that you never would have even dreamed of. Just click on any random link and you are introduced into a whole new world of information and culture. Normally I would consider that an awesome asset, but after sitting in front of a monitor for a while answering emails getting caught up on other things or whatever else, the thought of sticking around a little while longer is enough to drive me stir-crazy!

I wonder what would happen if I tried to go a whole week without using a computer. I know it's possible although highly difficult considering the culture we live in.

And plus I really don't want to let my inbox back up again. If I had a dollar for every message I delete without reading it my bank account would be overflowing. I'd have to buy something really huge and unnecessary. Any ideas?

I've spent the last several hours in a seriously agitated state. Honestly it's been getting on my nerves. It involves choices and positions in life and deciding what we really want etc. etc. Why is it that opportunities tend to pop up at the most inopportune times? Why is it that when we reach a place in life where we are perfectly comfortable and happy something has to happen in order to complicate things? I'd worked really hard to get myself to that happy and comfortable place, and I was hoping it could just stay that way for a while so I could enjoy it. DOES THE UNIVERSE ENJOY SEEING ME SQUIRM? Never mind the fact that I have extremely skewed on the subject in the first place. Never mind that I had thought at this point in my life I was not interested in this particular subject. "But Adam, everyone's doing it." Great, way to make me feel even more bizarre. I spend the vast majority of my time feeling like a really unique freak in the first place. I keep telling myself: you gotta do what feels right to you. Whatever's going on with anybody else does not directly apply to you. You decide when you are ready for something and at what point in your life you want to pursue something. This is your life and the choice should be yours.

Fine. I'd thought I'd made that choice. I'd thought I was fine with that. So where did all the doubt come from all of a sudden? I can give a million reasons for why to do something, and I can give another million reasons for why not to do something. So why do I find myself asking myself the question "So are you giving justifications or making excuses?" Dammit. Why is my brain so good at that? Truth is I'm not sure anymore. "Are you scared?" In some regards yes, but not in the way you'd think. I'd always told myself that if I really wanted to do something, I would just do it, but I didn't want to do it so I didn't.

And you know what? It never bothered me before. There weren't a whole lot of opportunities for this before, but I didn't care. It's something I'd thought about every once in a while, but it was never very high on the "concerns of life" list. "Well shouldn't you be making up for lost time?" Do I really need to? It's not my fault if I don't want to do something out of personal choice. So why do I feel weird about it? Walking around with this was driving me crazy. My mind kept going back and forth. What could happen if I did. What could happen if I didn't. I finally came to one conclusion: I haven't a blasted clue. And then a remembered a song lyric: "Live while you can". For some reason that sealed it. So I did something about it. I feel a lot better now, and I actually don't care if it turns out one way or another. At least I can say I did something and be done with it.

Confused by my complete and total vagueness? Tough. I was feeling quite pent up all of a sudden and wanted to vent on this particular subject, but I didn't want to share the specifics. If you are able to figure out what it is I'm ranting over, major kudos to you.

So the question of the week my friends is this:

Where would you go if you wanted to disappear?

I'm walking towards the court cradling the ball, my feet shuffling back and forth in a serious and urgent matter. I'm in a hurry and I'm oblivious to everything and everyone around me. I don't see. I don't hear. I don't care.

I am pissed.

I could give any number of reasons, but in the end specifics don't really matter. I'm having one of those days, quite possibly even one of those weeks. It's that nagging ever present feeling that you're awesomely ineffectual. It's the feeling that you're working yourself into the ground trying to do your best and failing gloriously. And it's feeling that when you actually do things right it doesn't matter because no one notices or cares. Someone's already done it before, and they've done it better. I imagine everyone has felt this way at one time or another. Right now I couldn't care less. This is my time, and the world seems to be very greedy in allowing mine. I'm missing a class in order to do this. Too bad. I need this more, and I doubt I could've paid attention anyway. I am livid.

Everyone gets their turn to vent. Everyone gets their turn to release. I never do in front of someone else. It's a luxury I don't seem to have (or allow myself), and there's a little voice that says no would listen if I did anyways. Fine. If can't express a little anger to someone than I'm going to stuff it down a basketball hoop.

The court is empty. Good. I don't bother warming up: I figure I'm hot enough as it is. I eye the hoop over my shoulder. Right now it's my enemy, hovering above my head, taunting me. I spin and rush the basket. I go up, the ball sails in. I grab it as it falls and race out again. Back and forth I go, waging a never-ending battle between me in the rim. The ball continues to find it's way in. I'd hoped this small string of successes would help calm me down. It was exactly the opposite. Each time the ball fell through the net I could feel my anger rising, seething, boiling over, threatening to explode at a moment's notice. Normally I would try to calm myself down at a time like this and maintain my cool. I don't this time. Instead I welcome it as the raw emotion washes over me. "Anger never solved anything" I'd often tell myself...Turns out I'm not always right.

When I was younger I was told that playing with emotion is the wrong way to win. If you do you won't be able to react accordingly. Your opponent will outsmart you. You'll make stupid mistakes. So whenever I played I always tried to logically see every part of the game, to plan ahead and try and intellectually predict my opponent's actions. I ended up getting my sorry hide kicked most of the time. It seems I play a lot better when I'm pissed.

I race around the court, an image of it and me appearing in my head. I think about each movement, spinning, darting, trying to predict how I would act in a real game. Slowly these thoughts begin to slip away. I make no effort to hold on to them. I don't need them now. My body's motions begin to become in sync with my mind's visions. Thought and action are one. When I make the move in my mind my body responds simultaneously. I'm quickly losing track of what is reality and what is only imagined. I have long since ceased to care. Some people would call this being in "The Zone". This is not the zone. This is something that transcends far beyond the zone. A small light flashes behind my eyes.

Something is waking up.

Most people see me as a laid-back guy who doesn't really get riled. Far from the truth. I try to see myself as a rational being who sees a situation and tries to think through it logically, but deep down I have a temper. We red-heads are known for that. And when I lose mine it is a surprising sight. This is a side of me no one has ever really seen because whenever I get near the edge I suppress those inner rages with every ounce of will that I have. I'm very good at it. But this time I make no effort to hold back. It's all coming out. And when I truly let go I can't be stopped, only contained...and nothing contains a force of nature.

Again and again the ball finds the hoop, each shot driving in with more and more force. My mind/body is on fire. I'm running at a peak that is almost terrifying. My heart races, my breath roars, my skin tingles with a shocking bio-electric surge. I make shot after shot. At one point the ball soars high into the air after hitting the rim from a far-away three point attempt. Without hesitation I dash forward and leap into the air, a flicker of flame trailing after my feet. The ball falls into my open hands and is redirected into the hoop. It barely registers and I head out to repeat the cycle again. Run, duck, dash, dodge, leap, soar, the world is changing around me as I continue my war against the hoop, attacking it mercilessly. The colors around me become full and vibrant, the sound of my feet on the court and my own heart's beat thunders in my ears. My senses are performing at their highest. I miss nothing as I dance over the hardwood, little flashes of light and fire arise with every step I make.

And then I hear it. I voice in the back of my world. An intruder in my domain. I look and see a dark specter under the hoop. A shadowy faceless form whispering in my ear. It speaks ill of me, attempting to shatter my resolve and bury my confidence. I stare it down with a fierce gaze. I'm not afraid of this creature or the hollow lies it spews. It speaks in a thousand voices, some very familiar, some very not, but all speaking the same message. I let it.

"Give it up Adam. Who are you trying to kid with these senseless displays? We all know where you belong. You're the only one who refuses to accept it. You will never be one of the bright ones. Leave this to those who deserve it. Give in to your real purpose: to lift those who would be great above you and let yourself be discarded as they go. Watch as they achieve what you can not. Sit in the dark and accept your fate: forever a witness of someone else's legacy."

I hear these words and the rage builds. And out comes my reply:

"F#%k you..."

The wraith falters.

"I've had enough of your lies and deceptions. There is nothing that you can do to me."

As my words roll over the plane a fire erupts around me, burning with passion and light that engulfs all that enters it. The flames climb over my form and begin to take a very distinct shape. With each passing word it grows larger and more clear until its final manifestation is realized: a great majestic bird, born of fire and light and as bright and beautiful as any shining star.

"This is my world demon, and I'm...not...done...YET!!"

I race forward, flaming construct soaring with me as I leap into the air. My ears hear the loud cry of a great bird of prey swooping in for the final strike. SLAM! Ball through the net, my hand brushing past the rim.

I fall to the floor and crouch for a moment as the fire dissapates all around me. The colors are no longer bright and garish. The world is returning to normal. I'm breathing heavily, my heart pounding as I sweat profusely. I am somewhat bewildered. I've begun to calm down and instinct fades as rational thought returns. What had just happened here? I look around at the gym's empty court. It's the regular normal world. The ball has rolled into a little corner, resting innocently as if nothing had happened. I look up at the rim. It appears no different than when I first walked in. "Did I imagine it?" I think to myself. "Was I just hopped up on adrenaline and an over-active imagination, or did I...?" I decide it's best not to think about it too much. Some things you're better off not knowing the answers to. All I know for sure now is that I feel a lot better, even chipper. I retrieve my ball and head off to take a shower, ready for some heavy-duty studying and not bothering to look back.

And again it sleeps...

These past few weeks I've been feeling somewhat in a rut. It's like EVERY aspect of my life has reached a plateau. I'm going around in circles and making no forward progress on anything. That may not necessarily be true, but sometimes it sure seems like it. What is it about people that makes us always want to be reaching for something more? Is it the experience of new sensations? Is it the dream of becoming that ultimate example of ourselves, you know, the wise learned person who makes few mistakes and impresses the hell out of everybody?

Last night I spent about one straight half hour staring at a computer screen, or maybe right through it. Comprehending nothing of what was on the monitor and having no coherent thoughts whatsoever, I must have looked like an automaton whose batteries have run out.

I think I need to jump start things here. Take it to the next level if you will. Take a dive in the deep end and thrash about for dear life. Of course for me that usually means doing something extreme as I seem to thrive off adrenaline and intense circumstances. Hmmm...this is one to puzzle over.

Fair warning: this piece may spoil certain parts of the movie for you, so if you haven't seen it and don't want to know what's going to happen then direct your attention somewhere else. You've been warned.

Some time ago I went to go see the movie "Finding Neverland". If you haven't seen it, do so. I'd be willing to bet you'll like it. The theme of this movie is about how important it is to have an active imagination and how essential belief is in life. In fact, that's probably the overall message of the movie: if you believe than anything can happen. A good positive message. An important lesson, but nothing I haven't heard before. If I were to count the number of movies I've seen that have that exact same message....well I'd have a really long list.

No, there was another, more subtle message in the movie that I picked up on and have been thinking about ever since. This occurs in the scene where Barrie (Depp) is talking to his wife Mary. He has been spending more and more time with the widow and her children playing his games, in Neverland as it were, and this has put a strain on his already failing marriage at home. Barrie keeps a diary where he writes about Neverland frequently, and Mary discovers it and reads it.

This leads to a conversation that makes us realize this marriage wasn't always as cold as we are seeing now. There apparently was a time when these two were closer and actually loved one another, but they missed out on a very important and defining connection (I doubt this quote is exactly right, but it gets the message across):

Mary: I never wanted you to give up Neverland, Barrie. I just wished that one day I could be a part of it.

Barrie: I wanted you to.

And there it is. For whatever reason, these two never established the undying bond that cements love, no matter what form it takes, forever. As human beings we have very active minds and imaginations. Thousands upon thousands of thoughts and ideas form our identities. Hopes, dreams, aspirations, fears, desires, all these things contribute to who we are as people. In a sense we create our own little worlds in our minds, our own secret private place where things go according to our whims and the only limit is our imagination. We go to these worlds to escape, to relax, to see our wishes granted. It make us happy. It lets us know what we want out of life. It's our own private fantasy.

But sometimes private becomes too inclusive. Being the strange people we are, we are VERY careful about who we let past the gates into our secret land of flight and fancy. Sometimes we don't let in anyone at all. We take key that opens our inner doors and lock it inside, because this something that is ours and ours alone. We gaurd our secrets and wonders selfishly. And when we do that we prevent ourselves from ever becoming close to anyone.

One of the great things about love, whether it be between family, friends, or a significant other, is that we are sharing ourselves with those we hold dear. We let them see through the barriers we put up to the people we really are, the vulnerable souls that can be hurt if brushed the wrong way. When we do let those few people in it forms an amazing bond that cannot be broken. It's a sign of how much this person means to you and the love and friendship you share. But if you don't let someone past those defenses, if you don't let someone see the you that hides inside there, then everything goes away. The love fades, the friendship declines, and then the relationship dies, as shown by Barrie and Mary and their eventual seperation. I think this line says it well:

"Please can you tell me, so I can finally see, where you go when you're gone?"

Ok, so I ripped that from a Michelle Branch song, but when it fits it fits. Anyone who's ever known me at all knows that I fairly often zone out into my own little universe, staring out windows at things that aren't really there, going places no one else has ever been. Someone's actually asked me that question once, and it surprised me to think that someone would be so intrigued to want to know where it is I've been, and maybe even want to follow along. And then I realized how I've often wondered the same thing. Where do people go when they "aren't here"? What do they see? What do they do? I've often wanted to ask but haven't as I'd figured that these people wouldn't really want to tell me, like it was none of my business. Which made me think that maybe some people are thinking the same thing when they look at me and I'm "gone". Some of the things that go on in my head are shocking, and some are outright wonderful.

As a result, I've decided that I need to increase my expressiveness, and I need to be a little more forward in exploring other people's worlds, if they'll have me that is. Because as I've often felt myself, we all really would like to invite more people into our worlds, to tell them what's really on our minds. We just wish they'd ask more often.

You can tell it's been a while since you've done laundry when you discover a shirt you've been missing for over a month at the bottom of your laundry bag.

Anyways, last week I was shelving books in the library, as per usual. When I do this, especially on the slow days, every once in a while a book title on my cart will catch my eye and I'll stop and read it for a minute. Well this time I discovered "Tactics of Guerilla Warfare." This was a small book, about the size of an instruction manual to a video game, and curious as to what I would find inside I opened it up. To my surprise this thing turned out to be a handbook. In it were recipes and equations for making explosives of any desired size. I discovered lines such as "To decimate a 64x64 square foot structure you need..." and other such matter-of-fact statement on the techniques to bring about senseless destruction and death.

I paused to think for a moment. Why on God's green earth would the library have this book? You might think it's not a big deal, considering that you can find the exact same stuff on the internet with alarming ease. In fact I think I knew a couple of people in high school who owned "The Anarchist's Cookbook". But still, WHY? And of course, a quick check to the due dates in the back showed that this little item had seen quite a lot of activity in recent years.

I live near a college campus, where booze and hotheaded hormones flow in massive quantities. I also live in Seattle, the undisputed caffeine capital of the continental U.S., if not the know world, which is also the birth place of grunge, the genre of music best known for it's angsty disaffected youth and bitter rages. Not to mention the fact that the weather is most commonly cloudy and rainy this time of year which can lure people into climate induced depression and psychosis (they actually have a name for it: seasonal affective disorder. Mix all that together along this little hot sheet and...well you do the math. Can you find any positive outcome in this?

This must be why they invented spring break...

Getting up early for a test is an injustice I will never enjoy. It's kind of odd to think that when I was in high school I woke up at 5:30 every day and was fine with it, but now in college anything before 10 is an "ungodly" hour. As if having to be up at 7:30 isn't bad enough, I have to go and be tested first thing. Ah statistics. Math cleverly disguised by purpose. If given enough time and with no pressure it's actually kind of fun. But when restricted by less than an hour and the health of my G.P.A. it's a demon spawned from my calculator.

It doesn't help that I had a really freaky dream last night. A good dream wakes me up fresh and excited. This one left me drained and confused.

A young man is walking through a glass hall. I don't recognize him, but I can tell he is something special. I can't tell what it is, but he has some kind of hidden power, and he's being driven by something. There's a girl here somewhere. I can't see her, but I know she exists. I believe she's a prisoner somewhere in this hall of glass. What is she to this boy? Sister...girlfriend...friend...I'm not quite sure, but he's worried about her. That much is obvious. Then a raucous booming voice resounds throughout the hall. A giant bald shimmering head comes into view. A man with evil in his eyes; he is the one holding the poor girl captive.

"Did you honestly think you could get this far, boy?" The man's terrible voice screams. The boy falters. He's afraid of this being, his power great and horrible. "Poor little boy." he taunts. "Forever wanting to be a player, always getting left behind. What kind of friend are you, to let the girl live in pain and fear? You failed before you even began!" The voice is screaming now, and the poor boy is cowering in fear. The glass walls shiver and wave and then shatter with an explosion of light and thunder. A million tiny shards swarm around the boy in a glistening whirlwind. Surely he will be cut to pieces...

I wake up, tired and achy. This is no way to start the day.

Where else can you walk out of the student union building after lunch and here someone yell:

"Get your weekly enema here!"?

There's an amazing sense of security that comes with figuring out an answer to one of life's major questions. I had this kind of experience the other day over something I've been thinking about for a long time (or not, it depends on your perspective). I'll probably write about it when my thoughts or more coherent, but to give you a small preview I'll ask you all this:

What do you want to do with your life?

So where does one go when one is unable to go home? I apparently go to my college's undergraduate library, which is open 24 hours a day during the weekend. It's a rather irritating feeling going through your entire day feeling pretty good, being productive, and in an all-around happy mood, only to show up work and have it all hit the floor. Did my mood go south? Not exactly. My body decided that it had had enough and was going to switch over to "threatening illness" mode. This was characterized by every muscle in my body aching, right down to the bone, along with a splitting headache, hot flashes and cool spells at the same time, and bouts of sudden dizziness. Did I mention that I had to be on my feet pretty much for my ENTIRE shift (6 1/2 hours) not including my breaks, which I took two of?

By the time closing came around I was a mess. One of my coworkers made a comment that my left hand was shaking as I walked in front of her. I promptly stuck my hands in my pockets and blamed exhaustion.

I am so full of it.

Not feeling up to walking the +mile distance home, or even stumbling to the nearest buss stop for that matter, I left the library I work at after closing was done, leaving my friend I live with the vaguest of notes explaining my whereabouts: "Gone". Seems rather insensitive now, but before hand I was not at what you would call "peak efficiency". I made my way to the undergraduate library. I sat down at a computer and proceeded to catch up on a variety of work that needed my attention, biding my time and hoping my strength would return.

"Adam, you retard" you're probably saying by now. "Why didn't you just go home and go to bed? Excellent question. I wish I had an answer for you. I've begun to feel better now, but I'm still achy and I am now stranded. The last bus home just left, and I am not up to making the walk home at this hour, and in this condition. So I will wait and work, or perhaps find some secluded corner and drift off to sleep. And when my opportunity arrives I will bus myself home and hit a real bed. I may not make it in time for class that day, but I haven't missed one all week and I think I have a valid excuse.

10 days, 2 homework assignments, 6 tests, 5 work shifts, and one massive meltdown to go before this quarter is over and I'm off for spring break. However, I just found out that my last final now directly coincides with my last day at work, which is fine. I am also now realizing all the things, both school related and not, that I still have to figure out. I have just begun to realize what an ordeal next quarter will be, which is also fine. I feel amazingly good actually, despite various social pressures and confusions. I'm not stressed really. Maybe a little tense and waiting for this $@#%#$ing cold to go away, but other than that things are good. I will now express my inner peace in the most direct and concise way possible:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*KABOOM*

That was my head in case you're wondering.

As of today I officially have no class.

*blinks*

What I mean to say is that I have attended my last class and now have no obligations except studying for the finals that are looming next week. After my hell day yesterday (1 test, 1 final, stat homework, and abnormal psych homework, all on the most beautiful day we've had around here in months..grrr) I am feeling much better and am ready to relax and enjoy myself over the next couple of days. There will be games, there will be cake, there will be friends; can't ask for much more than that right? I probably could, but I don't want to anger the gods of karma. They're quite touchy little something-or-others.

And I'm dreaming of my coming spring break. The idea is there even if the plan has not been officially laid out, which is something I should probably fix this evening. I think as of this moment all I want is no more time to myself. For the past couple of weeks I've done not much except work and study leaving very little room for social interaction. Makes me sick sometimes. Hopefully that'll make a turn-around now. Thank goodness for my one good friend and the many random interesting conversations we've had over the past couple of days. Really makes you feel good.

I've just made myself late for work. See what you people made me do?

I'm having one of those "I've lost all hope" moments. This is different from regular stress. This is full-blown despair and uncertainty mixed in with extreme self-doubt and disgust. Few things are worth getting this worked up over, and in the long run it probably won't mean much. It'll work out one way or another, although I have an unsettling feeling that I'm going to be severely disappointed. I must remember to relax. It's a problem yes, but there are solutions to it, even if some of them aren't really pleasant. I need to remember to tell myself: everything will be alright...

...even if it sure doesn't feel like it right now...

It's amazing how much can ride on a single email. I'm sitting on the edge of oblivion waiting for a reply and the slightest snap may cause my head to explode.

Pray for me, or cross your fingers, or whatever. I need all the help I can get!

So what do we do now, when all of time seems to collapse? Do we run and hide from the truth, or do we face it with all we have? Lost and gone one could say, but is that necessarily a bad thing? Everyone needs to disappear once in a while. Some need to more than others. Some days things just don't want to go the way they should, no matter how much sweat and tears is put into them. Sometimes those days stretch into weeks. At some time you have to wonder, what's the point? Is there even one? Who knows really. Life has far more questions than answers. Maybe seeking answers isn't the point. Maybe asking the right questions isn't either.

Working hard is considered a virtue. But what does one do when all the hard work seems to be going to waste? One could try and remember what one was working for in the first place. Then you have to ask if it's really worth it. Is that a question you're willing to answer?

In all the time I've spent here and elsewhere, the one thing I've always known is that what makes me happiest happens to be the most unconventional. I'm not easily satisfied and my dreams are a lot bigger than even I realize. People talk about what they want out of life, money, good careers, houses, family life, and I often find that my desires rarely (if ever) fit into those nice little paradigms. Does that make me weird, or unique, and does it really matter? I more often wonder if it means I'm not supposed to have what I want, or if it even exists.

If life is a journey then where are we going? A journey implies a goal, a destination, an end. I don't want anything so final. Then maybe the journey isn't towards a place, at least not a physical one. Maybe it's to somewhere inside; somewhere that's within reach even when it doesn't seem like it. Or maybe it's the journey for the sake of it. Is that the point? Maybe so...but who can honestly say? Maybe no one, but that doesn't mean they can't try. And who cares, so long as there are still epic tales to write?

"I've Been Delivered"

I could break free from the wood of a coffin, if I need. But nothing's hard as getting free from places I've already been.

I've been waste deep in the burning meadows of my mind. In the engine in cold December shooting fire from the hose.

Now turn off your lights 'cause I'm not comin' home 'till I'm delivered for the first time.

I was first-born to a parade it follows in rows, down a narrow cold black river, faceless shadows moving slow.

I would move swift when the sounds of the trumpet would blow. I've been the puppet. I've been the strings. I know the vacant face it brings.

Now the bells of curfew, they may ring before I'm through. But soon I'll be delivered for the first time.

You might keep clean in the back of an angel motorcade. It doesn't matter who walks in you know, the joke is still the same. You'll just wake up like a disposable lover, decomposed. I've been gone. I've been remembered. I've been alive. I've been a ghost.

Now if downtown explodes I'll still be on this road 'till I'm delivered for the first time.

I have drawn blood from the neckline when vampires were in fashion. You know I'd even learn to cut my throat if I thought I could fit in.

'Cause I once heard that you gotta learn how to blend in to this mess. Where nothing's hard, nothing's precious, nothing's smooth or flawless.

Now, no more amused just screaming to be delivered, for the first time.

Now I'm ten miles in the deep and mighty blue sea. Looking back towards a long white beach burning up in the yellow flames.

And I just wave back like a little boy up on a pony, in a show. 'Cause I can't fix something this complex anymore than I can build a rose.

So just keep on letting go 'cause I must be close to being delivered for the first time.

Now I'd rather bleed out a long stream from being lonely and feel blessed, than drown, laying face down in a puddle of respect. I was once lost in the corridors of the arena, in blindfolds. I've been the bull. I've been the whip. I just pulled down the matador.

So now, turn on your lights 'cause I'm comin' home. I've been delivered for the first time

When I'm not at school or work you may wonder what it is that I do with my "free time" (such that it is). Well, when I do find a spare moment here and there I have a number of things I like to do. One of those things is I volunteer for an organization called Teenadviceonline.org or TAO as we like to call it. Basically what it is is that I act as an online peer counselor. Teens, young adults, and their families email questions to the website and I, along with a group of mostly older teenagers/early twenty-somethings, send them back replies with honest straightforward advice. We get a wide variety of questions including things like trouble with parents, friends, dating, school and a lot of really serious issues as well like depression, child abuse, and drug/alcohol problems. We do our best to help with whatever problems they're having, and we provide links and numbers to places where they can receive the help they need if we aren't the best option for them. It's a really satisfying activity and we get questions from kids all over the world.

So why am I telling you about this? Well, see for yourself...
http://www.teenadviceonline.org/cmonth/

Click on "current".

Pretty cool, huh? :)

What a strange feeling, to spend so much time down low. To feel like nothing works and you've no one but yourself to blame, this is something with which I am all too familiar. Not pleasant. Not good, but real enough. You fall. You get up. You plummet. And still you try again. It's an epic cycle, until the day you finally get something right. I know what to do when things get like this. Even if I'm still learning I do know what to do when things get like this.

But now I have something new to ponder. What do you do when things are great or at least satisfactory, when things are going fine and even the little problems that come up don't bring you down, when everything to you is just fine, and yet everyone around you is falling to pieces?

http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/badgers.php

This has been floating around cyber-space for a while now. I only saw it for the first time last year. It's one of those things that just gets funnier and funnier as it continues.

P.S. The first time I watched this I stared at it for upwards of five minutes wondering when it was going to end.

I hereby decree that hereafter mornings will no longer start until at least 11:00 a.m. Go forth and rejoice my people! Smash thy snooze alarm and relax thy eyelids until such time that getting out of bed seems bearable!

How people run on less then eight hours is beyond me. I'm running on six and I feel like I just had a full frontal lobatomy. Wouldn't you know I have three pop quizzes today. Is this irony...or just plain bad luck? I can't tell. Right now 2 + 2 = -5.

From the beginning of the year to the present, this life has been one of extremes. From severe anxiety to complete ease, from utter confusion to to having it all together, from begging the fates "When is it my turn?" to being completely content and like nothing could be better, these last few months can be summed up in one word: exhausting. I enjoy having emotions. I don't enjoy yo-yoing them. I prefer to know where I am at all times. For some reason life enjoys throwing me curveballs at the most inconvenient possible time. And today this is really annoying as so far I'd been having a really good week. Nothing spectacular, just the satisfaction of knowing I'd been working hard and been productive and it was actually working out. But then throw in one or two small things and I am ready to punch through glass windows. Fate has an interesting sense of humor.

So for the sake of preserving my sanity I've decided to skip my next class: History of Modern Architecture. I know nothing about architecture, at least nothing beyond what the average citizen knows. I took this class primarily because I needed the credits and it fit into my schedule. The course description made it sound attractive and interesting (don't so many of them?) and don't get me wrong, it has been interesting. But I've found that as the course progresses my interest has been faltering. Maybe it's spring time, maybe it's school burnout, maybe it's because I have no major attraction to this subject whatsoever, but lately I've found myself dozing more and more often during lecture. If I'm awake my state can be described as "Being bored until it feels like my head's going to fall off). I really enjoyed the first part of the course. The professor is just awesome and we were looking at medieval gothic cathedrals and Greek and Roman temples. All very cool stuff. But as we approach modernism and start to look at more recent buildings my attitude takes one of "I don't care". We're looking at structures now that were supposed to be "revolutionary" and "ground breaking". For most of them my reaction is "That's one of the ugliest buildings I've ever seen." I've never really understood modern art in its abstract forms and "use of space". For the most part it's visually unappealing to me. And staring at it when it's represented in an office building just doesn't spark any passion whatsoever. I now am at the point where I'm chugging along just so I can get through the next three weeks and be done with it. Despite this I've yet to miss a class, which I'm remedying now by choosing to take the morning off and relax for a bit.

Oddly enough, this missing of a one hour lecture leaves me with a three-hour break with "nothing" to do. At this time I've decided to start reading a book lent to me by a friend. I didn't ask to borrow it, he just plopped it into my lap and said I should read it, which he's done with a rather amusing frequency. I actually had intended to read it at some point. Now I've been given the opportunity. Said book is "The Case for Christ" by Lee Strobel. I've heard mixed things about this volume, and am quite curious to flip through it's pages.

Hello once again ladies and germs!

What goes on? Nothing major. Never anything major. Why do you ask? I don't know.
I'm too busy for major. What's my major? I forget these days. It takes
approximately 4 days for me to shave. Maybe I should grow a goatee. It'd save on
shaving cream and I could chalk it up to youthful exuberance rather than pure
laziness. I don't know, but if I have to remember anymore birthdays this week
I'm going to start a boycott against cake.

School goes well. Or maybe it doesn't. Perhaps it just goes. Three weeks, two
weeks, one week, gone. Regular class ends and brings the finals. Bye-bye
free-time; hello rolaids. Or were those vitamins? Either way they go great in
Golden Ghrams. Class interest up to a point. See my architecture history book,
the big dense one that I've opened three times since I bought it? Neither do I.
It's been conveniently misplaced. Small wonder, the class has entered the "I
couldn't care less phase". I saw a building today that looked like a giant model
of an electrical outlet. Turns out it was a church. Next slide please...Ok
that's a toilet. And you think I'm making this up.

It makes no difference, because all that really matters is in the statistics.

"Pencils down class."
"But I'm not done yet!"
"What's your excuse?"
"My calculator is evil."
"Got anything more original?"

Apparently not. It's ok. A little time outside will rejuvenate me. CATCH THE
FRISBEE! CATCH THE FRISBEE! I was not made for this sport. All the back and
forth and the screaming in ears. I'd much rather play basketball. DRIVE IT IN!
KICK OUT THE PASS! THE FAKE! HE SHOOTS! HE...POW!!!..."Ok, where'd my glasses
go?"...CRUNCH!!!..."Oh..."

Alright back to the studies with a quick stop at the bathroom. Man people write
weird stuff in these stalls. Bush sucks. Make love, not war. Fight for a free
Iraqi. For a good time call...Oh lord where do people find all this time? Wait a
minute...where's the toilet paper?

Enough school. Time for work. Check in the book. Shelve the book. Check in the
book. Shelve the book. Check in the book. Shelve the book...It's not all the
comforting that a well trained monkey could do my job. Time to close! Here comes
that girl. She believes in parallel universes. I wish she'd go find one. Enough
of this garbage. Time to go home and collapse into bed. But first I have to get
there. No worries, I'll take the bus. Ahh, nothing like I nice relaxing
bus-ride. A soothing, quiet, uneventful bus-ride...why am I sitting next to a
man holding a live duck?

It's my day off! Screw the homework. It's sure pulled one over on me at this
point. I think I'll catch up on other stuff. Uh-oh my computer's acting funny.
It refuses to download new security packs and throws out pop-ups like undercover
curve-balls. Time for the systematic approach to home computer maintenance:

Option 1: Uninstall and reinstall various programs while deleting unnecessary
files in an attempt to isolate the problem.

Doesn't work.

Option 2: Email tech-support and follow their seasoned professional advice.

Doesn't work.

Option 3: CHAINSAW! CHAINSAW! *BUZZZZ* EEEEEEEEEE HEE HEE HEE HEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

No more of that; time for lunch. Let's see, what do I have? Lean pockets. I
refuse to believe that woman lost 60 pounds by eating lean pockets. Never-mind.
Back to the computer. Forget work. I'm going to play a game. Get lost in
irresponsibility. Slay the dragon. Save the princess. Answer the phone...Huh?
*Ring-ring*...Oh razzdoodles.

"Hello, I'm the realtor that's going to be showing your house off today!"
"Uhh...ok. When are you going to be here?"
"I'm actually standing outside your front door. Could you let me in?"

Here comes the weekend. Why do I have a pencil shoved in my ear? Oh right, I had
a bad idea and wanted to erase it away. But instead I go to a free concert
featuring a one-man band from Bengal, or some place I can't pronounce. He calls
his show the "Harmony Concert". It should be an interesting and uplifting
experience.

2 Hours later

*SNOOORRRE* "Huh? Wha??? Oh, bravo! Bravo! Encore!"

Walking home up my porch at 11:00 p.m. *Cat falls on head* "What the h...?" It's a
one-eyed cat...must be short-sighted. *Notices giant hole in jeans...right
between the legs* "Now just how long have I been walking around with THAT for
all to see?"

And now it's time for the annual review of the houses' weekly accomplishments.

House-mate 1: I designed a database that computes probabilities of binary
functions using advance algorithms of geo-physics.
House-mate 2: I negotiated the policy change for university building
construction for the development of environmentally friendly and economical
structures.
House-mate 3: I built a fish tank that produces an optimal environment for the
growing and study of the rare and diminutive pea-crab.
Me: I went to the store and bought milk.
All: PRAISE ADAM FOR HE IS THE CHOSEN ONE!

Where have all the hours gone?..I ask myself as I watch lap 365 of a 370 lap
NASCAR race. Did I just say NASCAR? Oh God have mercy on me I did. I need to get
out. The sun is shinning and the people are out. Come everyone! Drop your
knickers and pull out your Birkenstocks! Throw caution to the wind and throw
yourself into spring! Hello ladies! Come can-can through the quad with me! All
together now!

LA
LaLaLaLa LA LA
LaLaLaLa LA LA
LaLaLaLa LA LA
lalalalalalalalalala
LA
LaLaLaLa LA LA
LaLaLaLa LA LA
LaLaLaLa LA LA
BOOM!

I think I hurt myself.

P.S. This is all true. I am not kidding.

I mean look at this. This could be considered assault quite easily. I doubt this man still had his job after this incident. All the evidence was conveniently recorded for posterity. He at least got a stern talking to I'll tell you that. Although if I were in his position I may want to do the same thing, which is unfortunate because she's actually pretty cute.

http://albinoblacksheep.com/flash/stfu.php

Can any one see what he hit her with?

Hurray for the last day of classes! Now it's just finals and I'm home free...Until summer school that is. Oh well, it was my choice and it'll pay off in the long run.

It's Friday and I celebrate that by buying my lunch. Most days of the week I pack a lunch in order to save money (God's greatest invention: the peanut-butter sandwhich) but on Fridays I reward myself, usually with something fried. I try to eat healthy and succeed more or less (a lot less this week as being really busy means the microwave gets frequent use), but there is just something about eating food that you know is just all around not all that nutritious that is immensly satisfying. Today's guilty pleasure: chicken strips with ranch dressing, french fries, and a cherry coke. Fortunately I am going to the gym after class, so hopefully it'll even out a little bit.

I thank my friend Bethany for this one. It's simple, amusing, and just a little psychotic:

http://www.globalcommunity.org/flash/wombat.shtml

...But it seems I don't have much of a choice. It's 4 o'clock in the morning and I have woken up and refuse to go back to sleep. Usually this only happens when I'm worried about something. Trouble is I'm not entirely sure what it is I'm worried about. I do have a do-or-die final first thing this morning, but I think I've reached the point where I'm not really concerned one way or the other. No this is something far more important, I can tell.

I'm really beating around the bush. I have a fairly good idea of what's on my mind, but it's of the insanely personal nature some I'm not sure I'd want to go into it here, especially if someone I actually know were to read this...which may be part of the problem. I am not by nature an overly expressive individual. When I was younger I kept most things to myself because I was raised in a climate that was based on two principles:

1. Your opinion does not matter.

2. You're probably wrong anyways.

So rather than aggravate myself more than necessary I prefered to just shut up and let people know what I was thinking only if I absolutely had to, and even then only in small doses. Trouble is that nowadays when I live in a much more open-minded and accepting atmosphere I'm still making the same old behavior. "Why?" I ask. Good question. Hard to say really. Old habits die hard, which leads to another problem.

Have you ever been worried that you might be screwing up one of the greatest things that ever happened to you? Something you've worked so hard for and once you have it you either take it for granted or get scared of it and let it slip away? I feel like that at the moment, a sure sign that I need to do some more thinking and make a few changes.

In other less serious news I haven't shaved in over week. No particualar reason. Mostly shear laziness. I need to cange my razor but just haven't felt like putting forth the effort to do so. As a result I have a good stubble-beard going. I have no intention of keeping it as I find myself scratching it way too often and I don't know if I really like the way it looks. But right now I'm running with at as part of my "disheveled college student" look. I need a haircut as well so I figure after my last final on Thursday I will have a grand day of celebration of throwing out everything in the old quarter and embracing the new. I will shave, get a haircut, sell my textbooks, deposit money in my bank account, the whole blasted shebang in one afternoon. And it will be glorius, because after this nightmare of the last two quarters is over the rest of my undergraduate experience should be smooth sailing. I hope. I could have just put my foot in my mouth. That's ok. It's familiar territory.

One more final left. Just one more. One more tiny insignificant test. One more ridiculous, stress-inducing, wrist-exhausting, mind-bending, time-consuming, 8:30 a.m. final!! And then I'm free. Free I tell you! Free! Bring the joy, the love, the sun! Creative fufilment and mile wide smiles! Sunny days and outdoor adventures! Relaxation and long movie nights! Freedom of choice and will and function!...for one week, then it's back to the salt mines.

But I don't care! It's almost here, and something's definitely better than nothing. Come on you stupid test. I'm ready for you. I double-dog dare you, dammit! Bring it on!

Ever walked two dogs at one time? I hadn't until today. I was expecting it to be a real challenge, with two dogs trying to pull me in two different directions with such horrible disobedience that they would try to pull my arms out of their sockets. All in all they actually did quite well, although the little one enjoyed getting caught around mailboxes.

So I'm back at "home" visiting the folks for a week before summer quarter starts. It sounds like this trip will be typical in that there will be periods of mild amusement followed by extreme boredom. I'll have plenty of time to read which is good because I brought a ton of stuff I need to get caught up on including my articles for my research internship and the Holy Bible itself. As usual I'm blending multiple worlds into one strangely disjointed reality. If I stand on my head I can't tell the difference.

My sister is a crack-up, when she's around her friends that is. Just last night we were all having dinner and one of her friends asked me what classes I was taking next quarter. The answer would be Social Psychology, Psychology of Drugs, and Philosophy 101. Her next question, which she was completely sincere about, was "So do you know what you're going to major in?" If that's not a blond moment I don't know what is. We all rolled for about ten minutes.

I'd better know what major is, considering I only have two quarters left. Boy does that sound weird. My college days are numbered, and they tick away faster than I can comprehend them. I can't imagine what I'll be like when my last quarter comes about, although I'm sure it'll involve rapid ups and downs of extreme elation, indifference, joy, apprehension, nervousness, etc. Good thing I'll be so busy.

One thing that's definitely new: my mom taught me the coolest game that she and her husband picked up at a birthday party. You play it outside and it goes by a couple names, "River bola" and "Ladder Golf" being the most notable ones. I'd describe it but I don't feel like going into great details. You can check it out for yourself here: http://www.laddergolf.com/index.php

Take my word for it, it's fun. I've played three times and dominated two games.

Well that's all for now. Later gators!

I'm through with this. It was a nice ideal to have for a while but in the end it doesn't really work, like most things it seems these days. I just don't see the point, holding on to something that's really just a huge joke. Everlasting hope. Second chances. Holy fire. Rebirth. Beauty. Truth. None of these were ever real no matter how much I tried to believe otherwise. It's not reality. It could never be that good...

Or maybe it is real. Maybe it does exist. Maybe I'm just not worthy of the title. I've been told as such. It's a nightmare trying to hold yourself to a standard of being that only the best and brightest are reserved for. "The bright ones" as some might call them. Those that deserve the recognition they receive, that deserve the peace that comes with it. Those that do everything right and no one dismisses. Let those who are worthy of it have it. Leave me my shadow.

What could be worse than wanting to sign a beautiful song that no one wants to hear. Being happy with yourself is the utmost, but what does it matter if you're the only one who is. Is it self-indulgent to want a piece of the sun for yourself, or is it just natural? And what do you do when everyone around you has theirs and is unwilling to share? They go off and live their adventures and grasp their dreams while you sit at home, starring at blank walls and playing single notes of a melody that no one would want to listen to. I wanted to sing a song of glory and hope. Instead I wrote a dirge.

Dreams are born and die everyday. You can live your entire life chasing something that's not there. And still people tell you to hold on, but where are they when they run out of cute little sayings hidden in fortune cookies? With those that are less complicated, that are easier, that are worth it. And all that's left are the shattered pieces of something that could have been great if it had had the chance. The life is a song, but the dream always dies in silence. Lost and forgotten.

So why live a lie? Admit defeat. Move on. There's nothing left now. No second chances for this bird. Every flower gets a chance, but some flowers just bloom dead.

Believe it or not, this is all true. You want to know what happened: here it is.

Once there was a young boy who began with much promise. He was going to go places and do things. He would devote his life to experiencing everything the world had to offer, to serving others as best he could, to "make manifest the glory of God within him" as someone had so precisely put it once. He would make his mark on the world, and it would be wonderful.

And then it all fell apart....His small world came to pieces around him at a the tender age when innocence is the utmost. Life was thrown and the poor boy was damaged. Damaged...yet not completely lost. Some part of him still dared to dream that there could be more to life than what he had been given. So he held fast to his hope that things would get better. He continued to work as hard as he could and do his best to live his ambitions. He helped those where he could and remained as gentle and pure hearted as he could. Innocence was lost and was replaced with wisdom. The boy did his best to use this to hold himself up and to hold up others wherever he could. He fought...and was met. Life threw many obstacles and enemies in his way, the worst being the attacks that came from those who were supposed to love him the most.

His spirit held, but over time it began to wane. The boy found himself dropping his guard and letting the rain of blows through. A battle to live life transformed in a war just to survive it. His resolve faltered and slowly, one-by-one, his bright dreams faded from existence. In the end there was only one left. One tiny hope that the boy, now much older, clung to with every ounce of strength and hope he had left. The dream of escape, of leaving everything behind, to journeying to some new land and beginning again. This was the one thing he refused to let go of.

And then his last wish was granted. He graduated from high school and made his way to a new and strange world. A place he'd never been that he had no real ties to. A world that up until then he had never existed in. No one knew him. He had nothing. The best place to start over. A second chance made real...But it was too late. The damage had been done. Alone and closed off the boy had sunk into a state of frozenness where no sun ever shined. He made the all the right motions. Said all the right things, but there was no will behind it. He'd achieved his one remaining dream and it had been all about escape. Now that he'd done it and was here he had nothing left. Nothing to hope for. No dream to follow.

Lost he wandered aimlessly. Into the dark hours of the night he walked, taking in nothing, caring about less. And one night it became too much. He'd had his life turned upside down before, but inside he'd done the best to remain the same. To hold on to what he believed in. But things came undone again, and this time it went inward. And everything about the boy, his will, his spirit, his purpose, and everything he held dear shattered into a thousand pieces. He stammered out of his dorm room at an ungodly hour of the night. Barely able to stand he fell into the community bathroom. A splash of water to the face and a gaze into the mirror revealed a ghastly sight: a pale vision of what had once been a hopeful young man turned into walking corpse, with haunted eyes aged beyond their years.

Overcome with sickness he locked himself in a stall, perched over the poreclain throne. His body heaved him to purge what was in him, but his core was empty having felt no food in days. Weakened and with no strength left he fell to the tile floor of the bathroom stall. Hollow eyes gazed from the floor's cold expanse, seeing nothing, feeling nothing. With no words to say and no tears to cry the boy finally closed his eyes.

And there he died.

This is a continuation from a previous post, and thus will make more sense if you read if first.

Late in the night an empty dorm bathroom rests silently. Or not quite so empty. In one of the stalls there lies a figure prone on the chilling floor. Devoid of life it rests in a state that is not sleep and not awake. It is a young boy, dead to the world. A broken heart that the world forgot...Dead...but not yet gone. His vacant eyes stare on at nothing, completely unaware. Suddenly a voice revives his senses. "So are you going to get up now?" His eyes come into focus realizing where he is, surprised he is still there, wishing he couldn't be anywhere. He could identify the voice. It came from inside. "Yes, you're not gone. You're in pretty bad shape, but you're still here." The boy asks why. "Do you really think that after all you've been through you could shove off that easily?"

Slowly the young man picked himself up on his feet. It is a tremendous effort; he's never felt so weak. "Weak perhaps, but where there's life there's hope." The boy mutters bitterly that this in no way resembles life. "Maybe not," the voice continues "but you've never pegged yourself as a quitter have you?" What difference does it make, the boy thinks, if this is all that his efforts have led to? "So you try again, and this time you get it right. I can help if you'll let me. I think you've denied me long enough." Suddenly the boy sees in his mind a great and powerful light. So bright it shines light to every corner and vanquishes any shadow it touches. Bright, but not blinding. Just beauty. A figure bathed in fire appears and it offers a hand. What are you? The boy silently asks. "If I have to tell you that, you simply haven't been paying attention."

Finally the boy grasps the hand. And everything changes. What was once dark becomes light. What was once sadness becomes joy. And what was once death becomes life. But not just any life. Before was a mere facade of living. Now he was singing with the stars! He felt possibility and purpose and hope on a scale that he could not have dreamed of before. He lived...and it was amazing. He saw things he'd never imagined. Experienced things he'd never dreamed. He loved others, and believed that they in turn loved him. And he grew closer to God than ever. He reveled in this wonderful form, and he gave this mantle a name: Phoenix.

To be reborn. To rise from the ashes. To receive a second chance. These personified his life. It was perfect though it seemed...but it was not to last. He experienced his rough spots here and there, but at one point it all came down at once and he finally understood the warning he'd failed to heed when he first accepted this form. "The fire can burn as well as heal." And burn it did. A promise he couldn't live up to, he realized the folly in patterning himself after the great bird of myth. Beautiful and powerful yes, the Phoenix was a symbol of hope and life that he'd longed to live up to, but now he had great doubts as to whether or not he could, or whether or not he was worthy of the title...or whether or not it was even real to begin with. The Phoenix would rise no matter what the firey death, always coming back perfect and brand new. A human may rise, but the scars always come with the rebirth. And what's more the Phoenix is one-of-a-kind, rare and wholey beautiful in it's own way...which is a lonely life to live.

The young man thought of all this and grave doubts arose in his mind. If this wasn't what he'd been working for only to discover that in the end it didn't work what was the point. Living a lie was no life at all. And if this was a lie, than what was the truth. The boy didn't know, and that left him lost. What dream, what ideal could he have if this one was no longer true? He didn't know...and he still doesn't.

So are we really safe anymore? If the events of yesterday are any indication that's up for debate. London is having a busy week and once again we get to listen to reports of death and destruction all in the name of ideals we don't entirely understand, or at least I don't. I don't care what your cause is. If you believe the only way to acheive it is through the brutal slaughter of those who were given no chance to defend themselves you are evil, plain and simple. The people who died yesterday were not politicians. They weren't soldiers. They were men and women and children who just wanted to live their lives. To get up and go to work and make a living, to later come home to friends and family. And some self-absorbed heinous creature took that all away, all because they could. I hope they realize they've accomplished nothing. Violence does not make people agree with you. It does not make them listen. It does not make them give in. All they've done is make a lot of people angry and hurt. They'll demand justice, and by God I hope they get it. The victims deserve better than that. Their family and friends deserve better than that. The attackers deserve a fair trial and perhaps our pity. Other than that my sympathies are limited.

What kind of future did you want? What honestly made you believe that this was the way to get it? Survival of the fittest is an antequated idea that in this day and age only means that someone is lost because of it. Why on earth can't you see that?

I've been feeling old recently. Little wonder: it's my birthday this week. And not just any birthday, oh no. This is the mystical magical number that many people can't wait to reach to reach. The age that signifies freedom and maturity like never before. That's right: I turn 21 this Sunday. I'm not sure why, but I've been thinking a lot about this recently. Reaching 21 is kind of exciting, much more exciting than I was anticipating. I'm not exactly a partier type, I don't expect to go stir-crazy once I turn fully "legal". When you think about it 21 is the last real milestone birthday. After that you're age doesn't achieve too much significance for another couple of decades. I was thinking this birthday would be no different than any other one, but as it approaches I find myself anticipating it more than I have in previous years.

Do I have any plans? Not a one. I'm not particularly vocal about the fact that my birthday is coming either and am not really expecting a lot of people to remember. No matter. I don't need anything big. I will enjoy myself just fine (even if I'm not sure exactly how). But in honor of this occasion I have decided to do one small thing for myself every day this week. A little day-by-day treat to celebrate if you will. And today's treat: I bought my lunch. Kind of let-down considering the build-up you might think, but to me this is actually a big deal. Since I have every intention taking a huge trip after I graduate from college I've been working a lot and doing my best to cut corners and save money. One of these ways includes packing my own lunch. Significantly cheaper, but kind of an annoying chore and boring as that means I have the same thing everyday: PB & J sandwhich, chips, cookies, and occasionally yogurt. Nothing wrong with that lunch, but five days in a row week in and week out wears thin a little bit. So today I splurged ($6 bucks worth) I bought a lunch named Turkey Katsou consisting of breaded turkey and Asian style rice with some great Katsou sauce (looks like barbeque sauce but is more like soy sauce). Yummy, yummy.

It's Tuesday and today's treat is as follows: so yes I'm in college and that naturally implies a lot of reading. And I mean a LOT of reading. Some of it is interesting. Most of it isn't. A small morsel of it is actually useful. It depends on the mood I suppose but today I decided that I would read absolutely nothing that I was required to read and only that which I wanted to. Just like the good ol' days when I actually enjoyed reading and had time for stuff outside of school.

And my book of choice: "The Case for Faith" by Lee Strobel. I'd read "The Case for Christ" and found it fascinating and at the urging of a friend decided to try this as well. What have I learned so far? Apparently suffering is the ultimate expression of God's love, according to some people. It's actually a very interesting argument that is very compelling in some ways. I'd outline it more here but that would require much more space and wouldn't be quite as eloquently put. But if the suffering you live through does indeed make you a stronger person and lead you to the Lord, than that could go a long way towards justifying its existence in the first place. Interesting to think about.

So how did I treat myself today? I indulged in personal rampant consumerism. Namely I bought stuff. A little more than I was originally anticipating, but Amazon.com is the window to pretty much anything you can imagine a whole lot more you can't. Originally I was only intending to buy a new CD, but with the addition of SUPER SAVER SHIPPING!!! (hope I got enough exclamation points in there) I was able to get more stuff without paying shipping costs for it. So in the end I added two DVD's to my cart as well.

CD: Vienna Teng - Warm Strangers. If you've never heard of this girl you are missing out. She is a very talented song writer/pianist and has a beautiful voice and her songs are some of the most moving I've heard anywhere. Her first CD, Waking Hour, is a regular on my playlist and I've been wanting her second for a long time. Check her out. I'll bet you'll like her.

DVDs: I have a comedy fetish and I love stand-up. So I decided to buy two stand-up DVDs featuring Ellen Degeneres and her one-woman comedy routine. Whether you like her or not you know who this woman is. I've seen her stand-up before and thought she was very funny and talented. VERY talented in fact as she's very funny despite the fact that she rarely, if ever, swears on stage. And continuing to be funny to a wide audience without cussing is not easy.

Ever have that experience where you look at a picture of yourself and your gut reaction is "Wow, do I really look like that?"

So here's a quandary for you. We go through life being many things. Relative, friend, Christian (or whatever you subscribe to), worker, student, traveler, artist, thinker, athlete, collector of greeting cards...The list goes on. But at some point just about everyone sits down and asks the one question that brings the whole vehicle of life to a screeching halt:

"Does any of it mean anything?"

I struggled a lot with this one in the past. Sometimes I still do. It's not one of those things you can necessarily prove outright. When I was younger I would work so hard at just about everything I did, to varying degrees of success. Usually I felt like I was going nowhere, and I wasn't happy, by any stretch of the imagination. So I'd sit alone somewhere, lost inside the giant cavernous realm that is my mind. I'd sit there and the words would play over and over again: "What's the point? Why do I bother? Does anyone even care?" Sometimes they were heartfelt questions pouring out; sometimes they were the bitter rages of someone who's reached the end of his fragile rope. Either way the answer was always the same: there was no answer there because there was no one I could see. No one but myself.

My inner self is rather impressive to behold. He's always calm. Always knows what's going on. Maybe not necessarily in control of what's going on around him but always in control of himself. He sees what I believe to be real and he sees how it really is. He allows me my time to rant and when I'm done he's still there, patiently waiting for me to stand up and try again until I get it right. He's got a very confident half-smile. I have no secrets from him. I couldn't if I tried. He knows me too well. His eyes look past every deception I inflict on myself. He knows only truth. It's all he has use for. I admire him. I aim to be him. More often than not it seems like I fail.

It wasn't until I recently that I realized that every time I see him he's always on fire. A burning figure in a halo of light. Something about it scares me. An endless expanse of fire and light that threatens to consume whatever it touches. My inner self has invited me into this space, often sounding like it's no big deal. But it is a big deal to me. I fear that if I do go in the fire will burn me away, reducing me to so much ash. "It will," says my self image, "but only the parts you don't need."

In a sense it means giving something up, something that I had previously held on to with all my heart. It was my everything. It was all I knew. It was my life. And I didn't want to give it up. It may not have been perfect but I was sure it was mine. It belonged to me, flaws and all. I told my burning image this. Yet still he waits, waiting for me to take the plunge. To burn. To rise anew. I'm not God. Neither is the specter of me in my mind, but he speaks as if he knows Him and that I have nothing to worry about.

Why then do I hesitate? If it means giving something up it's because I'm not entirely sure what it I'll be giving up. There are some things that I'd be glad to be rid of but there are others that I don't ever want to lose. Places, people, ideas, some of these things I treasure more than I do myself. If I enter the flames only to emerge later will I still be able to keep them? Were they even mine to begin with?

You can muse over these things as much as you want. I'd like to leave you with something else. A question for you to give some thought. It comes in a pair. People have long been described as needing one another. When you look into your heart, who do you honestly believe that you need? And when you go even deeper, who do you honestly believe needs you?

For those of you who workout (I mean with weights) you know that feeling you get after a session where you feel really keyed up and although your muscles are really tired but you feel really good and healthy and active? You've realized that you've had a good workout and that you pushed yourself hard and then you feel ready to take on anything...and then you wake up the next morning and getting out of bed is a challenge? That's what I feel like today. I'm actually preety good and feeling fit. Just about every muscle in my body is sore. Makes me feel accomplished. And justifies my not wanting to do anything but sit on my but the rest of the day.;)

One more week of summer quarter. One more week until I have a nice long month off. One more week until I have much more free-time and potential for relaxation.As I used to say from the backseat of the car when I was much smaller:

Are we there yet?

Are we there yet?

Are we there yet?

Are we there yet?...

There are many things I could write about, but so many ideas ping pong around in my head it's hard to focus on just one.

Any suggestions about what I should put here?

Dangit Adam, why didn't you say anything? You knew full-well that he wasn't going to say anything! You would have perfectly liked to talk to him but NOOOOO!!! You had to play that blasted "wait-and-see" game of yours...again. But you knew, blast it! YOU KNEW! And he probably could have used the word as well....

....We're going to talk about this later

I was sifting through my email in-box and came across a message from a sender I didn't recognize. I opened it up and after a quick read-through I groaned. Another internet chain letter (how these people get hold of my address I don't know, although I'm sure someone's explained it to me once). I was about to junk it but decided to read it more carefully. This is what it said:

"Every night someone thinks about you before they go to sleep. At least 15 people in this world love you in some way. The only reason someone would ever hate you is because they want to be just like you. There are at least 2 people in this world that would die for you. You mean the world to someone. Someone that you dont even know exists loves you. When you make the biggest mistake ever, something good comes from it. When you think the world has turned its back on you, take a look again. Always remember the compliments you received. Forget the rude remarks."

Of course then it went on to yack about how if I didn't send this to 15 people within the same amount of minutes I was doomed to a life of relationship problems (don't need the chain letter buddy, it happens naturally for most people anyways) Blah, blah, blah. If any of those threats were actually true I'd have more curses on me than an episode of South Park.

But just because this email was essentially spam didn't mean I couldn't appreciate the scope of it's message. Someone out there does love me. More than one actually. And it's the same for whoever reads this as well. Sometimes we not feel like it, but if you ever sit down and actually thought about all the people you care for who feel the same way for you it's almost overwhelming. In days where war dominates the news and it takes no more effort to find images of hate than by changing the channel, we would do well to remember just how much love there really is. I don't need to point out the multitude of people who are doing everything the can to help in wake of the Katrina disaster. Many of you have seen it with your own eyes. To feel it is an awesome thing. Spreading that love should be our highest priority while on this planet. It is glory far beyond what each of us individual, but with out our contribution it will never reach the light it was meant for.

Love is everywhere. God meant it to be so.

1. All lives are connected. Each one affects every other one. The only time truly wasted is time spent thinking you're alone.

2. Sacrifice is not something to fear; it is something to aspire to. If you sacrifice something for someone you aren't losing that thing. It is passing to someone else.

3. Hatred only serves to hurt yourself in the end. To err is human; to forgive divine.

4. Love is eternal. Even when the person's life ends the love that was shared is not lost. It merely changes to a new form.

5. No life is ever truly wasted. Every life has some purpose that is just as important as the next.

Points to ponder..or words to live by? The come from the book "The Five People You Meet in Heaven" by Mitch Albom. A very moving and thoughtful book. Interestingly enough for a book that spends the majority of its time in heaven, God is mentioned a scant few times. I think it worked well that way although I couldn't put my finger on why.

I've thought a lot about God lately. I have had no real goal in mind. God is relatively simple to figure out. Undying love for all his people. Asks for nothing but your devotion and faith (as far as I can tell). What I've never entirely been satisfied with is what God wants for me. I've always thought that what would make me happiest would be to spend a life serving other people. Helping them in times of need and helping them to be happy. That's a big reason why I volunteered in high school and a little during college. It's also a big reason as to why I became a psychology major. I thought I was actually going to do something with it. Now I'm not so sure I'm going to do anything with it anymore, but I have no regrets.

What I really want it seems is something that I can call my own. Sounds kind of vague I know. But so many people I know seem to know exactly where they're going and what they want out of their careers and lives in general. And I've always felt strange as none of it really sounded all that appealing to me. Makes sense, as I'm not those people and that's not my life. But what about those things that everyone is supposed to want? And what's kind of aggravating is the thought that it seems like all through life I've always had to be more patient than most. I've been working especially hard these past couple years, and sometimes I wonder if I even care that much anymore, if when I finally earn my degree I will really feel accomplished or not.

But even outside of that so many people have all these interesting stories to tell of things they've done and wonderful opportunities they've experienced, and I feel like I just can't compare. Don't get me wrong; I've done some cool things and felt some amazing things, but sometimes I still feel like I'm getting the short end. Jealousy? No. Just kind of wishing I had something cool to talk about other than "I survived childhood and have not yet gotten myself killed by doing something stupid on my own." Now there's a line for your resume. Something to be proud of!

Sometimes I don't talk much. Sometimes it's because I feel like I've got nothing to say...or if I do no one would take me seriously. Not always, but sometimes.

First day of class. Many experiences I could relate to you all, but I'll go with this one: any guesses on what's the record number of books a person has had checked out on their library account at any one time? I'm not sure, but the most I've seen is 864. Just what do you do with that many books? And where do you put them all?

Why? One simple reason: the blasted-disassociative-personality-disorder-suffering-weather! I never know what realistic temperature range to expect. Looking out the window and using the weather forecast are both useless because rainy overcoat morning turns to warm comfortable shorts afternoon all within the space of an hour or two, especially where I live. I can try and guess what I should go out wearing, but I'm wrong more often than not, and this means I'm either freezing because I'm wearing too little or roasting and dragging because I'm wearing too much.

God, in his infinite wisdom, has one whacky sense of humor.

You want proof?

• Hurricane Katrina and Rita
  
• The Guatemala landslide areas considered mass graves
  
• The 7.6!!! quake to hit Asia
  

Maybe it just feels like the world has gone mad because so many of these disasters have happened in close proximity to each other, but you have to admit the forces of nature have been showing just how much control they have over our lives. Could we have been better prepared for disasters like these? Undoubtedly, but this planet is a volatile violent place just by itself without the rest of us running around. I look at the pictures of the devastation and the rescuers holding these screaming children, and I swear it breaks my heart.

Everyone can do something. If you're of the mind, please pray for all the victims and their families. Every little bit helps.

I am not getting sick. I am not getting sick. I am not getting sick. I am not getting sick. I am not getting sick. I am not getting sick. I am not getting sick. I am not getting sick. I am not getting sick. I am not getting sick. I am not getting sick.

I'M NOT!!

I'm hoping that I'll have enough time to go to the IMA today (i.e. the university gym) and work out in the short two hours between class and work. I'm also hoping that if I do go that the music will be more appropriate. For the record there are certain kinds of music that are ok to listen to while lifting weights. A techno remix of anything by Christina Aguilera does not apply. However, that seems to be the kind of thing I can expect to hear. And I unfortunately did not bring anything suitable myself. If your lifting weights you need something aggressive that gets the heart pumping. 3 Doors Down and Linkin Park work quite nicely. "Genie in a Bottle" (oh boy does that take me back) is just irritating.

Wherever you go, I will be waiting
Whenever you call, I will be there
Whatever it takes, I'll make your darkest days so bright
I'm in your heart tonight...

Thank you God for friends. I honestly don't know what I'd do without them. They truly make each ordinary day really special. I sometimes wonder why my friends are my friends. Why they chose me out of all the other people on the planet to build a relationship with, to share secrets with, to make memories with. And why oh why do they keep coming back and putting up with me and my moods and strange habits. You can tell you have an amazing friend when you know they see the real you and they're still there. It's a rare amazing feeling. I don't just like my friends; I love my friends. I'm sure if I asked you could think of one friend who you could not live without. Have you told them you love them lately?

For the record I hate the smell of cigarette smoke. I can find no redeeming quality about it. And I worked in a bar for a couple months and had to smell giant noxious clouds of it every night. If I see I'm about to pass someone who is smoking I always hold my breath. I imagine I'm not alone in this.

So I'm waiting for the bus this morning and there several other people at the stop as well. The bus comes and this old man in front of me moves to get on with lit cigarette in hand. He's actually stepping on the bus while taking a drag. I know this is against bus regulations and I'm pretty sure it's breaking a law of some sort as well. To his credit, the bus driver stops the man right away and tells him he's got to put his cigarette out if he wants to get on. The old man does so, but he gives the driver this look that says "You've got to be kidding me."

No sir, you've got to be kidding me. If I were the kind of person who did smoke I would at least be considerate enough to stay away from people who didn't want to inhale my fumes while I was doing so. And I certainly wouldn't get on public transportation and expect everyone to just deal with my bad habit.

This is something about people that just amazes me. So many of them walk around thinking the world revolves around them. Now this old man didn't really make a fuss about having to put his cigarette out. He was clearly irritated but he complied with the rules so I can forgive him for that. But there are people out there who would have made a much bigger deal about this. And there's no arguing with those people because they're absolutely certain that they are in the right and the rest of the world can go hang. That's such a sad way to live life. Don't they realize that nobody likes someone who's only concerned with themselves? Or perhaps they just don't care...

Just finished watching "The Grizzly Man" at the $3 theater. It's the documentary about Timothy Treadwell and his quest to live among the great grizzly bears of the Alaskan wilderness. I'd recommend seeing it. I can't say that you'll like it for sure, but I think you'll find it interesting. It's one of those movies that makes you think, on quite a few levels. It's really a portrait of a man, a very confused man, and his pursuit of life and adventure. I went back and forth. At times I thought he was a very intriguing guy who I would have loved to sit down and talk to. Other times I thought he was the textbook definition of a moron. He blended both quite well.

I have to respect that he went out there and did the kind of thing most people only dream about. Sure he crossed some lines a person really shouldn't (popping a full grown grizzly bear is by no means the action of reasonable sane individual) but he lived...and died...doing what he loved. Some people say he got what he deserved. I feel inclined to agree, as he really did seem to be asking for it although I don't think he ever saw it coming. But in the end I do find it impressive that so troubled a man could find so much peace in his life.

Sure he was a total looney toon, but we all are on some level.

Your Hair Should Be Red

Passionate, fiery, and sassy. You're a total smart aleck who's got the biggest personality around.

What's Your Funky Inner Hair Color?
http://www.blogthings.com/whatsyourfunkyinnerhaircolorquiz/

The interesting thing is my hair actually is red, and from time to time I do exert the qualities it shows. No where near as often as it would lead you to believe though;)

Something has come to attention. Something aggravating. Something that I really don't have any control over at this point. And if I'm doing the math correctly it's probably my fault. That being the case, I can see one possible resolution to this dilemma. It's the only real resolution. It'll mean giving up something, but since it was my mistake (I'm pretty sure) I think I can be relatively ok with it. In light of eternity it doesn't mean squat. On this Earthly life it may not make too much of a difference in the long run either. But, it's still frustrating. I need to go talk to my academic advisor to make sure what I discovered is actually what is going on, and if that is the case than some adjustments will need to be made so I can graduate when I said I would. It'll mean a little bit of wasted time, but you know what? I'm kind of beyond caring at this point. I don't know if I should find that sad or if it's a sign that I'm becoming more easygoing. I'll go for the latter as I like to take things in a positive light if at all possible.

But for the record I don't think I could be any more sick of school then I am now.

Three entries in one day. That's definitely a record for me. But today has been one of ups and downs and somehow that inspires me to write. Nothing specific. Just write. But rather than discuss issues that really have no relevance whatsoever, I'd like to take a moment to look at the lighter side of things. I love comics, of all kinds. Ever since I was little I've read the funnies in the paper. Sheepishly I admit that it's often the first (and only) thing I read in the paper today. My favorites are all the old classics: Peanuts, Garfield, For Better or for Worse. Good 'ol comfort strips that are always there for you, even if they're no longer "being continued" for lack of a better term. When Charles Schulz died his memorial Peanuts strip stayed up on our fridge until it practically disintegrated. I really do miss him, and I never met the man.

I've discovered new good strips as time went on. Every once in a while Cathy is good, although I was ecstatic when she finally got married (gave them something new to talk about). Frazz is definitely a new favorite along with Brewster Rockit: Space Guy. Others have their moments, but you have to admit a lot of them just aren't that funny, which is what they're supposed to be. Take the Family Circus for example. Before you traditionalists jump all over me let me say I have no problem with the strip in general. I just don't think it's funny. It's cute as only a strip about little kids (who have been kids for decades now) can be, but most of what they say is just that: cute, maybe mildly amusing but certainly not hilarious.

No, I like comics that are actually funny. That make you laugh out loud. If they can make you think at the same time then they're definitely excellent. But in the end who can resist a good old fashioned sight gag? I mean seriously, how could you not love this?

To my surprise my last post made it onto the list of top blogs for yesterday. I wanted to thank you all for the nominations, although I had absolutely no idea why that particular post was that good. So I went back and reread it and to my dismay I realized I don't deserve your nominations. "Why is that" you ask? Because when listing the classic comics: I FORGOT TO MENTION CALVIN AND HOBBES!!

This is unforgivable and needs to be corrected. When those two regularly graced my funny pages they were one of the first ones I read. Hobbes (my other favorite witty orange cat) was practically a role-model to me. Calvin was great in that he could be extremely insightful and clueless in the same sentence. So to give credit where credit is due, here you go. Babysitters beware!

It's that time of year again. That's right: the NBA season opener was last night. I love basketball. I love to throw it down on the court and it's one of the few sports I can get into watching. There's so much energy and passion, it's an all-out war on the hardwood. Sure you have your all-stars like Shaquille O'Neal, Kevine Garnett, and LeBron James, but my favorite part was always the team aspect of the game. Just about all sports have the potential for people to breakout and become a force on the court. There's always a chance for a player to step up and completely change the course of a game, but this is not a game that's won by individual players. Everyone needs to do their part, and when a team comes together and becomes an unstoppable force it's a thing of beauty. That's why I love watching teams with that strong sense of unity (see Detroit Pistons). This is what competitive sports are all about.

And the drama, oh Lord the drama! Last year was one of the most capricious seasons in NBA history. Even someone who knows nothing about basketball at all will remember hearing about the horrible brawl between the Detroit and Indiana. You couldn't avoid it: it was on the news played in slow-motion for the next couple of weeks. That was one of the, if not the lowest points in the history of the game. But both were able to come back and have good seasons despite massive suspensions.

Then there was the Kobe vs. Shaquile debacle. This had been building for years. Two of the arguably the best players in the game today were a force to be reckoned with when they came together on the court. When they were in unison nothing could stop them and the Lakers. Unfortunately, two of the biggest stars also led to clashes of two of the biggest egos. These two flat out could not stand each other and this ultimately led to Shaquille's transfer to Miami. I was waiting on pins and needles for their first match up on Christmas morning. I was at a family function and had it taping at home. Others were going downstairs to watch bits and pieces. I refused to, and feverently prevented anyone from giving me any details. I avoided all newspapers and television and even the internet before I could watch the game the following morning. And in the pre-game warm up O'Neal and Braynt meet for the most awkward hug of acknowledgment I've ever seen. Kobe didn't even look O'Neal in the eye (granted he's a good head or two shorter, but you know what I mean). Then O'Neal and the Heat went on to claim an exciting victory. I've grown to like Shaq more and more this past year (although I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive him for starring in the atrocity that is Kazaam).

There's just so many stories I could talk about. Considering the history I was shocked when Phil Jackson came back to the Lakers. He and Kobe have never gotten along (noticing a trend here?). I can't wait to see what unfolds this year. My eyes are on the Seattle Sonics, a team a gained mostly from moving to their hometown. I gotta go with something; the closest team to my hometown is the Sacramento Kings (and they aim to disappoint). I'm also rooting for the Minnesota Timberwolves, a team I knew nothing about a few years ago, but have grown to like in the past few years (mostly through Jordan's influence, and I also think Kevin Garnett is one of the classiest players in the game today). But I could go on. There are so many good teams out there. Dang I miss having cable.

Check that. I also miss Reggie Miller. :)

• Translation: "A young man should serve his parents at home and be respectful to elders outside his home. He should be earnest and truthful, loving all, but become intimate with humaneness. After doing this, if he has energy to spare, he can study literature and the arts."

I want to go to one more NBA game before Christmas. I went to the Sonics vs. Timberwolves game a couple weeks ago and had a great time. Live sporting events are some of the best entertainment there is, and basketball ranks near the top since it's almost always exciting and even the cheap seats allow for decent view (except for the one time I had to sit behind a set of ascending stairs). I'm not going to have the opportunity to go to a game for a long time after Christmas (mainly because I'll be in another hemisphere) so I got strike now while I still have the chance. Trouble is I'm not sure which game I want to go to:

Sonics vs Cavaliers: Friday December 2 (LeBron James, come on)

Sonics vs Knicks: Tuesday December 6 (Not doing too great so far, but a bit of school pride since they traded to get local legend Nate Robinson from the Washington Huskies)

Any thoughts?

Maybe I could be the one they adored.

The only difference that I see is you are exactly the same as you used to be.

How could you feel used when I feel trapped?

You come around here you'd better bring a witness.
Everyone in here's on the guest list.

As if it wasn't hard enough.
You're gonna make it so much harder.
Now in another world I could learn to forget.
But 'til then I'm here making room for new regrets.

Let me in, let me drown or learn how to swim.
Just don't leave me at the window.

The way I sleep this bed just can’t be made.

I wake up quick.

I wake up sick.

I've been waste deep in the burning meadows of my mind.

I've been gone.
I've been remembered.
I've been alive.
I've been a ghost.

Now boy keep still and don’t spread yourself around.

Wait at your table for one 'cause you're not through.
They're not done with you.
Did you think you were the only one that's been let down?

It may take two to tango.
But boy, it’s just one to let go.

“There’s a light at each end of this tunnel,” you shout.

‘Cause your just as far in as you’ll ever be out.

It doesn't matter who walks in.
You know the joke is still the same.

'Cause I once heard that you've gotta learn how to blend in to this mess.
Where nothing's hard.
Nothing's precious.
Nothing's smooth or flawless.

No more amused; just screaming to be delivered for the first time.

Now I'd rather bleed out a long stream from being lonely and feel blessed than drown, laying face down in a puddle of respect.

'Cause I can't fix something this complex anymore than I can build a rose.

Now when I think of me I think of someone else instead.

So just keep on letting go because I must be close.

God only knows that I've tried.

Actually as of this posting I have EXACTLY 12 days until my career as an undergrad is officially over. It can't come fast enough. A few posts ago I said that I didn't think it was possible for me to be any more fed up with school. Turns out, as it does with so many things, I was wrong. After this last weekend I'm not pretending anymore. I can't stand this at all. School makes me miserable and it sucks away all potential for peaceful life. I'm always exhausted. I'm always busy and I'm always aggravated as very little of it seems to have any point. I have very little time to spend with friends doing the kind of things that make me happy because finishing college is my highest priority at the moment. And all so I can get one dumb piece of paper that says I paid a big university a lot of money to keep me occupied for a couple of years.

Don't get me wrong, I love learning about all kinds of things and there's something exciting about discovering something you didn't know before. I'm still enjoying my classes this quarter. Astronomy is probably my favorite as all the talk of space and how it has impacted our culture is fascinating. And my psych lab class is cool because I actually get to use some of the stuff I've killed myself to learn these past few years. But in spite of all that the benefits just don't seem to outweigh the costs. The stress, anxiety, the lack of pure enjoyment. None of it seems truly worth it at this point.

And then you get to weekends like this last one. I got a last minute invite to a friend's house to spend Thanksgiving with him and his family. I was very honored to be there and they did everything they could to make sure I had a good time, and I was immensely grateful for that. But the rest of the long weekend just sucked. I spent the whole time alone in a big freezing house (our furnace is currently broken) reading books and writing papers. And picture while you're doing that in the back of your mind you know your friends and family are out having fun, enjoying each other's company, and going to football games and stuff like that and it's just depressing. I know some of you can relate to this. Even when I took breaks to lighten myself up it didn't help. Playing the piano, watching movies, going for a run, nothing worked. And when you've busted yourself all week and this is what you have to look forward to on the weekend (as it has been for me for quite some time now)...well is it any wonder I don't smile much these days?

And once again I've had to learn that if I'm seeking words of encouragement my dad is the last place I should be going. Seems like every time I bring up something like this his standard response is "Welcome to real life". Really? Is this what I have to look forward to forever and ever for the rest of my life? If so could you just shoot me now then? I can't believe that this is all there is to existence. I refuse to believe that.

I've made a decision. I'd been teetering on it back and forth for a while but I've finally come up with an answer. I'm not going to grad school. I just can't do it, and I don't want to pay for it, in ALL the ways you have to pay for it. For one thing I'd be in debt until my hair turns gray, but more importantly I'd be sentencing myself to more years of  drudgery for no real reason at all. I don't have the energy. I don't have the motivation. I just don't. Sorry mom. Sorry dad. But if you want a grad school student you better start working on Grace. It just isn't for me, and there's nothing you can do to change my mind.

I just want this too be done with. I'm so wiped out I can't even get excited over it. My brain doesn't even have the energy to look forward to the upcoming holidays or my trip that comes after that. I'm halfway convinced that when I finally finish my degree I won't feel accomplished or satisfied with myself at all. And perhaps I don't really care. I just want it all to go away and never come back. If I were of a mind I would be completely plastered the night after my last final. I wouldn't actually do that, but considering how I feel I wouldn't put it past a lot of people to do exactly that. Not that my time in college hasn't been of value. It's been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. But not one of those experiences happened in class.

Seriously needing some love here.

This was awesome. Normally on Tuesdays I have a meeting for the lab I work in around 5:30 p.m. There's usually not too much point in going to these as not much important stuff happens, but everyone is required to show up. This is kind of frustrating as it throws my whole afternoon out of whack. Really it's not that big of deal but I'd really much rather not go to these things.

So I was working at the library and was taking a moment to check my email. I just realized that I had that meeting later and I thought "Oh lord, I hope they cancel it." This was kind of random as there was no real apparent reason why they would do such a thing. And just as my email inbox opened I saw I had one new message. Low and behold, the meeting was canceled because our supervisor still had jet lag!

This was an "OH YEAH!" moment if there ever was one. If only I could learn to harness these powers. Just imagine the possibilities...;)

Ever get the feeling that you weren't born for this world? I've lived with it all my life. Ever since I was little I've been somewhat of a space case, as in my attention isn't always grounded in reality...at least not THIS reality. To be honest I've always found the real world rather boring. When I was younger no matter what normal day-to-day activities I involved myself in I didn't seem to fit in with anything. Sure I loved playing sports in P.E. class, but I'm not all that talented in the athletic area. In a rather ironic twist the one physical activity I could actually be pretty good in, jogging, is the one I hate the most. So that was out. Other activities took up my some free-time here and there, but none of them really "clicked". The one thing that actually does spark my interest was volunteer work, which I did a little of in high school, and tried to pursue a bit in college before time and work cut that out.

But it wasn't just the extra-curricular areas. Life in general always seemed boring to me. You got up, went to school, and educated yourself so you could one day get a job where you got up every day, went to work, came home, and went to bed. I was never content to live that kind of life, although I didn't see much point in thinking otherwise since I figured I had no choice but to eventually fall into that kind of existence whether I liked it or not. Still this was really discouraging as it meant that I never had any idea what I wanted to do when I "grew up" as it were, even though people asked me this question repeatedly. People all around me would have all these ideas for dream careers and none of it sounded appealing to me. I've always felt that the best kind of job I could have was one where I centered it around helping other people, like when I was volunteering. However there isn't a whole lot of money in volunteer people-centered type jobs, and my parents had told many times that they didn't care what I did so long as I made lots of money. It's often hard to tell if they're being serious as they don't usually bother to make themselves clear and just expect me to understand them regardless of what they say.

When faced with this kind of reality, it wouldn't be very surprising to hear that I created my own to counter balance it. One of the greatest gifts God has blessed me with is a very vivid imagination, and when I was younger I used it a lot. My attention drifted off all the time into my own little world. What can I say...I made it pretty exciting.

I played lots of video games when I was a kid. My favorites were the adventure and rpg style games like Legend of Zelda and Final Fantasy. These were the kind of worlds I got excited about. Daring heroes taking on gruesome monsters with sword in hand or magic spells all to save the helpless citizens of the world. I enjoyed the characters in these games because they did seem real to me in a way. Many of them had fears and insecurities that held them back, and through the course of the game you'd watch them grow and mature enough to eventually overcome their shortcomings to become mighty and righteous warriors serving something much bigger than themselves. And at the end of the game all the heroes would come together as friends, forgetting their differences, and fight as one unified team and destroy the great evil that threatened their world. Peace would return and the heroes would go down as legends in their own time.

This was the kind of life I wanted. Within their adventures the characters would be given the opportunity to become more than they were, to rise up and fulfill great destinies and find their own magnificent place in the world as the forces of light. Considering how discontent I often felt with regular life, not to mention my own nagging insecurities and failings, I felt like I could truly relate to the characters in these games. I'd often inject myself into those stories fighting alongside my favorite heroes and having my own lasting effect on the story. I took on many different forms like the lone sword-wielding knight or the unsuspecting mage who's powers would one day grow strong enough to move the stars. One of my favorite roles was that of the mysterious protagonist who often appeared before the heros of the story in order to dispense wisdom and send them on random quests without explaining why. They were always confusing and closed off, but they were always cool and had a strong presence.

I spent a lot of time in this little make-believe world of mine. I lived out the stories I already knew, sometimes supplemented with the tales I read in books or saw in movies. And then I would create my own, each journey more epic and amazing than the last. This was how I made myself happy.

To be completely honest I still spend a bit of time in that world of mine. Nowhere near as much as I used to as the demands of the real world have increased exponentially over the years. But I still find myself drifting back on occasion. Often times if I'm staring into the distance I'm really slaying an evil dragon or saving a little lost child from a dark nasty dungeon. It never gets old. The only downside is that you tend to become even more dissatisfied with the world around you if you're not careful. That's one of the reasons why I love hiking as much as I do. Miles away from any living soul I could live out my fantasies, at least in part. When I was younger and I went hiking by myself I'd often grab long sticks of wood and pretend they were swords and that I was fighting some vile creature. Sometimes I still do, after I've made absolutely sure that no one's around to see me making a fool out of myself of course.

I honestly don't expect that I will ever "grow up" completely. It's just not in my nature. I didn't have my epic imagination I wouldn't have much. I certainly would never have survived childhood. But it's not one of those things I go around talking about as it's not something I expect most people to really understand. Besides, how well can you relate to someone if your mind's always in a world they can't see?

Oh man, the world is spinning out of control. This is my last day of class as an undergrad. My LAST day! Can you fathom that? It is entirely possible (and in my current state of mind highly likely) that this could be the last day of organized education that I ever have. And tomorrow is my last final. So I'll be spending all day studying for that while trying to write my last term paper. Final...term paper...final...term paper...last day of class.

Today I also filled my prescriptions for my trip, and it brings to mind just how close it actually is. One month away actually. That's exciting and frightening at the same time. Final...term paper...last day of class...trip.

And this weekend I graduate from college and have a church Christmas concert on Saturday night, and a house party on Sunday night. Final...term paper...last day of class...trip...graduation...concert...party.

Oh no! School is coming to an end and I have to move soon and I still haven't sold my bed! How I'm going to get that all unloaded in twelve days? Final...term paper...last day of class...trip...graduation...concert...party...moving...bed.

AND the Chronicles of Narnia movie opens up today! The one movie I have been waiting ALL year to see opens today and I can't wait to see it (whenever that'll be). An epic movie that truly will be epic. I read all the book and see it on the screen could end up making my holiday season. And speaking of movies, the trailer for X-Men 3 was released several days ago. This is the movie I've been wanting to see ever since I saw X-Men 2 THREE years ago! Waiting to see the return of Jean Grey as the Phoenix has been a long patient ordeal, but now it's coming out for sure in May! Final...term paper...last day of class...graduation...trip...concert...party...

moving...bed...Narnia...X3.

AND my last day of work at the library will be soon! ACCK I haven't bought any Christmas gifts yet!

Final...term paper...last day of class...graduation...trip...concert...party...moving ...bed...Narnia...X3...Last day of work...Christmas.

Final...term paper...last day of class... graduation...trip...concert...party...moving... bed...Narnia... X3...Last day of work...Christmas.

I have way too much going on at once. What am I going to do?:)

Legolas You scored 35% Sturdyness, 69% Influence, 59% Supernatural, and 1% Evil!

You are Legolas, elven archer and member of the Fellowship. You have sworn to aid the cause of destroying the ring. You have incredible agility, speed and senses, and your bow has slain many a foe. If you gain friends, your help would be the best one could hope for.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 35% on Sturdyness You scored higher than 85% on Influence You scored higher than 84% on Supernatural You scored higher than 0% on Evil

If you liked my test, send it to your friends! The LOTR Character Test http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=15030764448041848457

The Tower o' Cereal

It feels nice to be back in Nevada. I'd been away for a while now, but it's nice to be among family for a little while. I love Christmas. I really do. And now I'm able to relax and do absolutely nothing important if I so wish for the first time in longer than I really want to think about. After many long months of taking on a lot more than I probably should have my plate is completely empty. My Christmas shopping is even done and all I've got to do is wrap. I have nothing to do but sit back and enjoy the holidays and the short period between now and when my trip starts.

I've just begun to realize how short a time that actually is. I leave for Argentina on January 10^th, and that's only nineteen days from now. As the departure date rapidly approaches I begin to get more and more excited and nervous. I have my mom to thank for at least part of the nervousness. She'd been talking randomly about my trip and what I'd be doing when it's over with. I said I had no idea what I'd be doing when the trip is over. She was surprised.

"What, you're only going to be gone about three weeks right?"

No I am not going to be gone only three weeks. And then I thought about that again. I have no idea when I'm coming back. I have no idea what the future holds for me and Jordan when we're down there. I only have a one-way ticket for crying out loud! Buying it was so easy way back in August. I thought I'd considered the possibilities and how likely it was I could make it back without flying. I thought I'd done a good job considering all the angles. I did, and I bought that ticket confident I'd made the right choice. I still am confident about that choice, but reality and fantasy are colliding. I find myself in two positions: I am raring to go, but I'm not exactly ready for it. I think once I have my gear in order I'll be fine. I honestly think that's all it is. Once I'm prepared physically for the trip the mental and emotional aspects should follow.

I just want this Christmas to be good. I am going to miss all my friends and family when I'm gone, but I'm anxious to see what God has planned for this trip.

I've been re-reading The Chronicles of Narnia and having a wonderful time doing it. I could say a lot about Mr. Lewis' master series but I thought I'd just give a quote that actually had me laughing out loud yesterday. This is from  the last page of The Horse and His Boy:

"Aravis also had many quarrels (and, I'm afraid, even fights) with Cor, but they always made it up again: so that many years later, when they were grown up, they were so used to quarreling and making up again that they got married so as to go on doing it more conveniently."

I love it. Such an honest but amusing depiction of married life (I not being married myself but having been around enough people who match this description). Kind of curious that I read this on the same day I watched the movie Mr. and Mrs. Smith again, a film about two married assassins who discover each other's identities and spend half the movie literally trying to kill each other, whether over assassin duty or a disagreement over the drapes in the living room, and then make up in the steamiest way possible. Not a bad use of two hours.

I also saw Fun with Dick and Jane last night. It was cute and fun. Largely forgetrable but cute and fun. I don't have much to do tonight though. Since the house is going to be mostly empty I think I might go see Narnia again.;)

I am seriously considering buying an iPod, and thus joining the 21^st century. Believe it or not, I still own and regularly use a cassette player AND make mix tapes. How's that for archaic? What came before that, 8 tracks? But I've always had my portable cassette player with me when I'm running or working out or when I'm by myself and feel like drowning out the noise in my head. I've actually had people look at me funny when they see me changing a tape. They think it's amazing you can still find them. It seems like literally everyone owns an iPod nowadays, just like cell-phones. It doesn't seem to be so much more of a fashion trend as a way of life now. But people would crow about how great the sucker is and how it can do all sorts of things for you: make playlists, display album art, floss your teeth, etc. I'd listen politely and in the back of my mind I'd be thinking "people and their toys" and otherwise not care that much.

Anyways, the sudden change of mind for purchasing the ever-present little jukebox has entered my mind recently for a few reasons, both of which have to do with my upcoming trip to South America. I'd want to take some form of music to listen to, like when I'm on the plane or if I'm chilling in some street cafe and just feel like zoning out for a while. Trouble is a cassette player and the necessary tapes to make it run would take up way too much space, not to mention that I'd need to spend money on batteries.

Another thing that I'd never really considered until now was the fact that you can store photos on the iPod as well. Up to 25,000 in fact! I actually got excited about this feature because I'd been wrestling with a photo storage problem. I bought a new memory card for my camera and of course we'll be putting photos up on our website, but I'll still have a ton of pictures I'll want to keep and no way of conveniently doing so. I thought of getting a small portable USB card, but those things are rather expensive and don't have too much storage space without costing a lot more. But if I had a little Apple box with me I'd have all the room I'd need to store pictures in (I'm assuming depending on how much music I had in it as well).

These two points are honestly making me lean toward caving in and joining the "iPod Generation". I guess I'll find out tomorrow as I go out to do some shopping for gear and such for my trip...that is if I can actually make it to Reno where all the good stores are. Since I've been back in Nevada I've been hit with some of the worst weather I've seen in several years here. People complain about rain in Seattle. I'd like to invite them down to see our currently overflowing flood basins, not to mention impending snow storm the TV meteorologists claim is coming. I can hear the rain falling now. Makes walking the dog difficult, especially if you can't actually get her outside.

This will be my last post on Mindsay, possibly forever. I doubt most of you will notice as I haven't been all that active in recent history, and what I have been writing hasn't been all that interesting...at least by my standards. So why the sudden departure? For those you have been paying attention (raise your hands; I'll be shocked) very soon I'll be beginning the journey of a lifetime. In two days in fact. In just two days I'll be setting out on a plane to Buenos Aires, Argentina. I've been planning this trip for a long time, so long it seemed like it would never actually happen. It was just a really cool idea. A friend and I would book one way tickets to a country we've never been to at the very edge of the world, and I speak practically no Spanish, and then make our way with only God to guide us. Rather epic sounding isn't it? Not at all normal and barely realistic. Even with my adventurous imagination I didn't think I'd ever end up doing something like this. And now it's actually happening. In only two days.

I'd often wondered what I'd feel like as the departure date approached. For the longest time my life was so busy and full of other commitments and responsibilities that I could only devote passing thoughts to this trip. Now it is looming in front of me and is impossible to ignore. And honestly I'm not sure how I feel about it. On one hand I'm really exciting to be doing this. To reep the rewards of all my long hard work. On the other hand I'm somewhat mystified as I'm not entirely sure why I'm doing this at this moment. I thought I might feel like Frodo and Sam in the Lord of the Rings as they set out from their safe holes in the Shire for parts unknown, wonderous, and dangerous. Or like the heros in my favorite stories and video games as they began their quest, unsure of what would happen but immersed in purpose and glorious potential. It doesn't feel like that now. It doesn't even feel like I'm taking a vacation. I've invested too much in this venture to call it a regular vacation, but it doesn't quite have the epic feel I was expecting.

I've thought about why this might be and the answer was easy in coming to me, and it has nothing to do with the difference between fantasy and reality. In those stories of adventure and wonder such as Lord of the Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia, or even Final Fantasy there was always some end in mind; some purpose as to why the travelers were braving those perils in the first place. In short their journeys had a goal. Mine, at least for me, does not. You could come up with random things to try and add meaning to this trip, but many attempts don't seem to work. You could call it a long journey to make your way back home. Home is debateble to me, and right now I'm not really sure where that is. You could call it a vision quest where I aim to "find myself". I have a preety good idea of who I am already. Whether or not I act like that person is another discussion entirely. You could say my goal is to take in and see as much as possible, and to just enjoy the days in a carefree way. This trip does not have the feel of being completely carefree, and I am way too complicated an individual to put something like this in such simple terms. So there are dead ends all around.

However, I'm not being entirely honest. There was somewhat of a goal set for this trip. The friend who will be going with me thought it would be appropriate to make this trip about God, and seeing where His will would lead us and letting his plan for us unfold. I agreed wholeheartedly with this. However it's a rather vague ideal. It could be taken to mean anything. How do I know once I'm out there that I won't fall into a habit of just seeing everything as plain and regular and not recognize God's touch behind it? Sure I will be taking my Bible with me, but I've never had much success in studying the book before. To be fair, up until recently I only owned a King James translation and if you can understand that form of scripture I tip my hat to you. I have found a NLT version to take with me, and the moment I laid eyes on it that I knew it was for me. It's a small Bible locked in a metal cover to protect it from outside abuses, a bonus considering the conditions I will no doubt be experiencing. The metal cover is a deep red with a simple strong imprint of a burning flame above the word "Ignite". On the back is this verse:

His eyes were like flames of fire, and on his head were many crowns._{Revelation 19:12}

followed by the caption "The light of the world has come...ignite your fire". Being the symbolic mystical person I am, I got really excited over this. In my mind this is what a life of faith was supposed to be about. Lighting your spirit and burning bright. It's supposed to be exciting and purposeful. Something I'd wanted in my life and on this trip. Something only God can truly give.

Trouble is God and I have been rather quiet toward each other lately. It's hard to explain. I just haven't felt the same connection I had with Him as I have in the past. I don't know exactly why that is. It could be because I haven't been to church in a while, or it could have something to do with my surroundings. I enjoy spending time with my family. I really do. But every time I come back here it becomes very easy to slip into old roles. Things have improved dramatically over the years. This comes from acceptance of people for who they are and realizing how they act is not a reflection on you. You cannot change people. You can only work together with them while being true to yourself. I am much better at the former than the latter. And talking about faith is not something we really do around here. I don't really feel comfortable discussing it because it's not a subject people talk about around here, and some people wouldn't seem to be interested in discussing it period. And little things pop up here and there too. For example my sister and I are so drastically different I often find it amazing that one of us isn't adopted. Despite having the same parents we've developed two radically different lives. If she's telling me the truth she's done many things that I don't at all agree with or even understand. And I'm sure my life bores her to tears by her standards. I still love her of course, but we have so little in common that talking to her is letting her take the wheel and me sitting in the passenger seat, dispensing no effort whatsoever as I don't much see the point.

Even aside from all that, it just doesn't seem like God is speaking to me right now. And if I take every aspect of my faith litteraly that isn't possible. It seems much more likely that I can't hear him...or that I'm not listening. I recently read through all of the Narnia books again, and I especially like this passage from The Silver Chair. Aslan speaks to little Jill before she begins her journey:

"Here on the mountain I have spoken to you clearly: I will not often do so down in Narnia. Here on the mountain, the air is clear and your mind is clear; as you drop down into Narnia, the air will thicken. Take great care that it doesn't confuse your mind."

This has often described my relationship with God. A few moments of pristine clarity in the otherwise confusing din of everyday life. I don't know if I've attributed God to only being in a certain place, but if I have that would be malproductive as God is supposed to be everywhere. It shouldn't matter where I am in this far reaching world: God's relationship with me shouldn't change because of my geography. If so, then why am I in the place I'm in now? Hard to say. All my life I've been searching and calling for something, and I like the way Mr. Lewis put it. Once more from Aslan's lips:

"You would not have calling to me unless I had been calling to you."

Hard to argue with that. From everything I've learned the Lord does not really force his way into your life and he doesn't just show up either. He must be invited by you by your own free will. I did that once and it was one of the most amazing things I've ever experienced. Question is: do I have to do it more than once?

I suppose in the end this trip I'm embarking in on could still be centered in God. If there was a goal it could be to spread his glory or to at least secure it within myself. It's the best I can do at the moment. In a way this is a new beginning. My college life was three and a half amazing years, by far the best years of my life so far. Yet I did not feel a sense of closure when I left for the last time. Being very sentimental I usually would take a long walk around the campus and remember all the fun times I had while I was there. I didn't get to do that. I was too busy packing. And yet that chapter of life is over, and now I'm starting a new one with just as much promise but next to no structure. It's not a plan. It's life, and what will come I can't predict or control. I don't know if that scares me more than it excites me, but it definitely does both.

I have enjoyed my time here on Mindsay, and I may still float around to see what people are up to. If you want to find me though you'll have to look here: OneWayUnited.com. You can check in to see how my friend and I are doing and even make comments if you so choose. I'd like it if you did. Internet stalkers give me the creeps. When all is said and done though I have made one realization. If this adventure that I'm about to set out on has a theme song, a non-religous one at any rate, it would be this one. When I first heard this song it spoke to me as being very epic in its own right, even after the movie it followed. Coincidentally, it was the movie Narnia, and this music and these words speak to me in a very real way...except perhaps for the part about being a princess.

Wunderkind By Alanis Morissette

Oh, perilous place walk backwards toward you
Blink disbelieving eyes chilled to the bone
Most visibly brave no apprehended bloom
First to take this foot to virgin snow

I am magnet for all kinds of deeper wonderment
I am a wunderkind
And I live the envelope pushed far enough to believe this
I am a princess on the way to my throne
Destined to serve, destined to roam

Oh, ominous place spellbound and un-child-proofed
My least favorite shelter bear alone
Compatriots in face they’d cringe if I told you
Our best back pocket secret our bond full blown

And I am a magnet for all kinds of deeper wonderment
I am a wunderkind
And I am pioneer naïve enough to believe this
I am a princess on the way to my throne
Destined to seek, destined to know

Most beautiful place reborn and blown off roof
My view about face whether great will be done

And I am a magnet for all kinds of deeper wonderment
I am a wunderkind
I am a groundbreaker naïve enough to believe this
I am a princess on the way to my throne

And I am a magnet for all kinds of deeper wonderment
I am a wunderkind

I am a Joan of Arc and smart enough to believe this
I am a princess on the way to my throne
Destined to reign, destined to roam
Destined to reign, destined to roam

Destined to reign, destined to roam
Destined to reign, destined to roam

Goodbye and I wish you all the best. God bless.

~Adam a.k.a. LifeSong12702

This blog is currently retired. If you wish to follow the author on his journey you may find him here:

http://www.onewayunited.com

Best wishes to all of you!

Well in case you hadn't heard I took a little trip. Beginning last January my best friend and I flew from the U.S. to Buenos Aires, Argentina. And it all went form there. Over the course of eight months we saw Argentina, Chile, Uruguay, Bolivia, Peru, Ecuador, Panama, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Honduras, El Salvador, and Guatemala. We went sky diving, biked the world's most dangerous road, explored ancient ruins, made new friends, worked with the people, and experienced much of what the world had to offer. There are plenty of stories, but I've already written so much about it on our website: One Way United, that writing anything more would seem redundant. You can go there and look for specific stuff if you like. Also here are some good recap pages I put together when I got back:

The End? - A LOOONNGG piece about my experiences on the trip.

My Favorite Pictures - What it says. A good fast way to go through the whole trip and see a lot of the highlights.

As for this blog I didn't know if I was going to use it or not when I got back. I thought I'd try it out for a little bit to see if I could get into it or not. I don't expect to use it a lot; only post when I feel like it. I don't expect to post a lot about day to day life like I used to either, unless something really worth talking about happened. But stay tuned. You never know what I may come up with!

So now that the traveler in me has been satisfied (for now) I suppose the time has come to explore the world of careers. I've been giving this some thought lately, and like many people when posed with the question "What is your ideal job?" I respond with "I don't know." Careers in America are a big deal. One query adults love to heap on any child they see is "What do you want to be when you grow up?" With so many adults so uncertain as to their professional futures you'd think they were looking for ideas. But so many children have an answer ready to spew out with such enthusiasm. "I want to be a doctor!..Or a fireman!...Or president of the United States". And back then we seemed so sure that was what time would unveil for us. Like many youths I had plenty of job asperations when I was younger, and I rotated through them about as often as I did my Adidas cross-trainers. I had the typical ones: physician, teacher, reporter, and each time I switched I became just as certain that my new dream was where I was headed.

Although I don't think I'd want to go back to being a child again, I do feel somewhat envious of the natural youthful exumberance and confidence that comes with being so young and naive to how the world works. There's just something about the way we grow older in this society that tends to make us so doubtful and skeptical, especially when it comes to our own hopes and dreams. This doesn't happen to everyone of course, but it sure as heck happened to me. I entered college intending to major in pyschology and then go onto become a therapist deticated to helping people acheive happier lives. Well I majored in psychology, but I found out, alarmingly quick, that becoming a counselor wasn't what I wanted to do at all. Not only that, once that dream was gone I had nothing to replace it. Nada. I was a blank slate and I had not one damn clue what to fill it up with. I took a wide variety of classes in college, everything from geology to poli-sci to Islamic architecture. Many things intrigued me, but nothing ignited any sort of passion that I felt could sustain through a lifetime of working for a living.

It should be noted that growing up I had a rather fearful view of work to begin with. My parents have both roughly the same job for as long as I can remember, and when I was younger it never appeared to me as they were really happy with their profession of choice, especially my dad. It seemed as though every time he came home he would complain about his job and the people he worked with. Very rarely, if ever, did he seem happy about his chosen path. As I grew older and my social network expanded I encountered more adults who held similar views. None really regarded their jobs with as much disdain as my father seemed to in my eyes, but no one ever came out and stated "Oh how I love my job". I'd always known that working for a living wasn't always easy, but I'd hoped that there could be some measure of enjoyment in it somewhere. Experience didn't give me much to go on.

But there were always ideas back when I was a kid. When you're young you'll entertain just about any thought with little regard for reality won't you. So just for fun I've been going over my past aspirations as well as to current possibilities. The ones that follow fall into the "It'll never happy but wouldn't be cool if...?" category. In some universe they might be more than just a dream, but currently they're really only flights of fancy.

Video Game Designer -  When I was younger I played a lot of video games (Nintendo fans in the house?). I enjoyed them and they were one of the few things I was confident that I was actually good at. Sometimes I would think it'd be cool to design my own game, either the art in how it looked or writing the story. I have a very creative side. I never really entertained this idea for long, especially when I got older, as 1. This job kinda lacks anything truly relevant to the world in my opinion and 2. I'm really not all that interested in video games anymore.

Professional Athlete - I think the average little boy has dreamed of playing a sport for a living once or twice. Although I thought it'd be so awesome to live the dream, I never even remotely considered this a likely future. One thing I've always found rather odd is that God blessed me with a wonderful imagination but at the same time made me almost mind-numbingly realistic. (He really does work in mysterious, and confusing, ways). While I love to play, the sports I'd dream of being a player in (basketball or football) I have absolutely no talent for. I could possibly be really good at tennis if I wanted to, but while the game can be fun it really wouldn't keep me interested for long. I suppose I'll have to be active in a lot of club teams to make up for this.

Jet Fighter Pilot - I always thought this would be the ultimate thrill rush. Soaring through the clouds and engaging in edge-of-your-seat dog fights. Non-adrenaline junkies need not apply. Unfortunately you need to have perfect vision in order to fly jet planes and I have awful eyesight. So much for that.

Movie Actor - It does happen, and this is the job for the undecisive. You could truly be anything you wanted to be: doctor, parent, space astronaut, just so long as you were good enough to get decent parts. However I look nothing like Brad Pitt and I think I would hate all the attention movie celebs get. I suppose I could do TV as they are slightly less in the lime-light, but a lot of TV really isn't that good nowadays. I suppose I could always go on Survivor and when the $1 million. Hmmm...

Musician -  I LOVE music. To this day I'm still trying to teach myself how to play. I would never sing. I've got a terrible voice (no one I know can tell you what I sound like when I sing because they've never heard me), but an instrument can be so passionate. The piano, the guitar, the drums, I want to learn them all. Not a whole lot of talent in this area either though.

Super Hero - Admit it: you thought about it at least once and you thought it was cool.

So now that we've pooh-poohed all the fantasies what does that leave? You'll have to wait and see...

*Quick note: when searching for a potential career I need to remember not to go for professional gambler. I was out doing so with my mom and a friend and lost around $20. They both did too, but still...

So now that fantasies have been given their proper due where does reality sit? They always say that you should try and find something that you really love and do that for the rest of your life. If that's the case why do so many people seem to be so unhappy with their jobs? Or why do people have such a hard time figuring out what makes them happy? I have no intention of really going into these kinds of questions; I just wonder sometimes. But what kind of work would make me happy? I have a hard time answering this as I have never had a job that I would want to keep longer than a year or two. Granted these were all "Joe job" (i.e anything that requires a nametag), but still. One thing is I'd always wanted a career that I felt was truly relevant, that made a positive difference in peoples' lives. That's a big reason why I majored in psychology, but I have no intention of going to grad school in psych (at the moment). Fortunately there are many ways to make a good difference in someone's world. Even the tiniest of actions can make a monumental change to someone else. Doing what your heart tells you is right and following the Lord's path is all it really takes.

I also have a very strong creative streek. I love to design things (art, stories, houses, etc.) and see them turn into reality. When I was younger I used to write stories all the time, mostly based off of video games and cartoons I'd seen. I even made my own comic books on occasion. I'd flirted with the idea that I'd be a writer when I was older but kind of stashed it in that area of the soul where all childish dreams are kept to make way for more realistic goals and endeavors. At one point I was certain that I wouldn't even like writing all that much if I did actually get the chance to do it professionally. Maybe I wouldn't, but during my big trip a little spark came to life that made me reconsider it all. I don't think I could be a novelist as coming up with a bunch of decent story ideas without becoming dull and repetative is a trap I think I'd fall into, but I thought that I had at least one good story to tell. So maybe when I find the time I will write a book. They say everyone has one in them. I'm not sure if that's really true but lots of people write books all the time. Maybe it isn't too farfetched that I could too.

But as for a normal career to pay the bills and get me through life? I dunno. Right now I'm looking for a job soley as a means to get out of my mother's house and move back to Seattle, I place I truly love and miss. Not wanting to be picky I've looked at anything I could possibly do, and nothing has really appealed to me. I doubt I would stay in any job I found more than a year or two but there has to be some attraction. It's made me wonder if maybe I shouldn't set my standards a little higher. Maybe try to find something worthwhile like a non-profit organization that helps the environment or is involved in community outreach. Who knows?

On a side note, while thinking of careers I remembered an interesting tidbit from my past. Back in junior high we took a test in home ec that was supposed to give us ideas for potential careers (something we're all really worried about when we're 12), and I had what I thought were rather interesting results. For my analytical nature it suggested being a psychologist. No surprise there. For my social fun-loving side the test thought I'd be a great bar tender. Rather unexpected but interesting. And mixing all these traits along with a strong love for the outdoors, this quiz thought I'd make and outstanding...Christmas Tree Farm manager. It had never even occured to me that such a job existed. I still find it funny to this day.

When discussing God there are a multitude of phrases that come up. One of the most popular ones among the Christian community is "God work's in mysterious ways". We've all heard it. I have many times, but have you ever stopped to wonder why that is? Why is God's work seen as so behind the scenes? I have heard people will say that it isn't for us to know God's will, that His reasons are beyond our comprehension but ultimately in our best interest. Perhaps that is true but I've come to think that maybe it isn't necessarily so. Anyone who has gone out and truly lived life realizes that exploration and discovery, both of the world and of ourselves, is an essential part of our nature. Some may immerse themselves in it more than others, but I know that going out and doing something I've never done before: climbed an unknown mountain, played a different sport, tried a new activity, all have a way of bringing out the best in me. Nothing gets my heart pounding with excitement like anticipation of something wondrous yet completely different from anything I've ever experienced. We all have our purpose in life and no two or exactly the same, but at the core I believe God put us all on this earth to discover and enjoy His vast creation. What does all this have with God's mysterious nature? Those of you who look to God as the Lord of your life have nod doubt at some point been perplexed with the way an event turned out in your little universe. Maybe it wasn't an unfortunate occurence but still far away from what you expected, or what you hoped, would happen. Maybe you pouted, or complained, or even became depressed over it and would pray to God feverishly "Why Lord? Why did this have to happen?" As they say, hind sight is 20/20, and later on maybe you came to understand just what it was that God was trying to tell you. It may come to you gradually, or at may fall on you like a bomb and suddenly everything you couldn't comprehend falls into place and becomes cystal clear at just the right moment. Those who study psychology refer to that colloquially as an "ah-ha!" moment. God loves us more than we will ever truly understand, and I believe that is why He "works in mysterious ways". He created us mind and body, heart and soul. He gave us reason and will to think for ourselves and to be able to appreciate all the incredible things that happen in life. The beauty is in the subtlety. If every thing came to us so easily and served on a platter where would the excitement come from? Why instill a sense of discovery if there was nothing to discover? A lust for adventure is useless without any unknowns to conquer. Life's little mysteries were put in there to make us strive to become more than we are. God gave us the ability to do that, and I believe he takes pleasure in it when we figure it out for ourselves.

It's been a long time since I've watched TV with any sort of regularity. In college my hours were as such that I was never at home at a time to really watch any of the noteworthy shows. I all saw on a week by week basis was the news, sports broadcasts, the Simpsons, and Survivor. I'd heard about plenty of shows that were supposed to be good but what's popular now is the ongoing series story show, such as Lost. The basic sitcom is pretty much a thing of the past. Sure new comedy shows come on every season, but few really catch you're attention like the old classics (I Love Lucy rules!). So drama is the thing. Trouble with that is it's confusing to start in the middle of the show where all the shocking revelations don't seem that compelling to you since you haven't followed along from the beginning. It's like walking into a movie when it's half over, and part 2 or 3 of a trilogy.

I watched the season premier of Lost tonight. It seemed like it could be a show I might like, but this was the first one I'd ever seen so I've already missed a lot. I've tried watching Survivor but my schedule is so varied I'm often not at home when it's on and I don't have an easy means of taping it (Tivo: I've seen its uses and I must admit they're compelling). Plus I've found that I enjoy a show much more if I have someone to watch it with. Survivor was so much more fun when I could yack about it with my friends. I've been watching Smallville on DVD with mom which has been kinda fun, but lately she's developed this irritating habit of watching a bunch of episodes without me and I have to catch up on my own time.

Perhaps I need to give up the hope I'll find entertainment on TV. Maybe use the time for more important things like finding a job or flossing my teeth. Employment and healthy gums are much more valuable then an hour or two in front of the boob-tube right?

Currently I am eployed full-time in a pizza parlor. I was working today and waiting patiently for 5:00 p.m. so I could clock out and go home. It was about 4:00 and the restaurant was empty. I was busy cleaning this and that when I see this car pull up in front. Out jump two kids who run inside by themselves and the car pulls up and drives away. The kids come up to the counter and I see that one is a boy and the other a girl. The girl appears to be the oldest but she looked only about eight years old. She couldn't have been more than ten. She very quietly orders a small cheese pizza and a couple sodas. She handed me their money and I gave them their sodas and they rushed off to play the games.

Now this pizza place is set up as family eating establishment. I have no problem with this and I had no problem with the kids themselves. In fact they were very polite and well behaved. No, what bothers me is that the mom or dad or whoever just up and left two children who looked way too young to take care of themselves in a public restaurant and drove away just like that. Now I don't know what was going through this person's head when they did this. Maybe they felt bad about it or maybe they didn't give it a second thought. We in this day and age can be a little paranoid and untrusting, but you have to admit that this isn't the 50's either. I know being a parent is difficult (even though I'm not one myself) and getting it right is hard, but I'd like to think I wouldn't just leave my own young kids in some random place and be confident that nothing would happen to them. Maybe that's just me though and I'm making too much of this. What do you think? Did this gaurdian make a careless mistake or is it no big deal?

"Jesus did many other things as well. If every one of them were written down, I suppose that even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written" John 21:25

Well the time had finally come to take another step into the relm of adulthood. It was time for me to get my own car. My mother had been encouraging this for quite some time, saying such things as "You need a car. You shouldn't worry about financing; it's a cost of living expense". I felt compelled to make a point about how no one really "needs" a car, but sometimes it's better to concede the point. And it is hard to argue that not having a vehicle puts you at somewhat of a disadvantage, at least in an American society especially in a town like the one I live in currently that doesn't have a real good public transportation system. So I sat down at the computer and after countless hours of mind-numbing research I learned more about autos in the past five days than I probably have in the last five years. It was time to go shopping.

I've only "owned" one car in my life. I say "owned" because my mother bought it for me, without me knowing it, and it was never in my name. Mainly it was a way for me to get around in high school (which I didn't really need that badly, but I appreciated the gesture) and keep me from driving my parents' cars. And as cars go it wasn't that exciting. A big white oldsmobile that was on its last legs in this world (I would seriously be shocked if it were still roaming the streets today) it got me from point A to point B for a little over a year, and when I went off to college it had disappeared upon the time I first came back to visit. I didn't really miss it.

But then came this last Saturday. I asked my dad to go car shopping with me as I figured that having a more experienced person around would be a big help, and my dad (who is a lawyer and a natural born arguer) would be useful in combating any pushy salesmen. Plus I knew he'd enjoy it all anyway. So we left in the ridiculously cold morning and made our way to a huge car dealership and started to puruse the deals. Nothing jumped out at us...except for one really irritating young guy with way too much hair gel. He went into his whole speal and although we mentioned repeatedly what kind of car we were looking for he never bothered to listen. Finally we'd had enough and just stormed away, the guy obviously frustrated at losing a sale.

We checked out a few more places and talked with some more laid-back amiable people, but still hadn't found anything that really fit me. Until we got to one little lot of used vehicles. We kind of passed over this little green subaru at first, but after a test drive I felt like I could see myself driving this car. My dad really liked it as well and so we entered into some negotiations that were much simpler and fair than I was really expecting them to be. So in less that four hours after actually looking I had a cool new vehicle to my name! Well...it was new to me anyway.

Driving home I took the long way, and I don't know why but I have never had that much fun driving in my entire life. And here I had a car that was really mine (or the bank's if you want to be technical about it) and not one I had to ask permission to use. I was pretty stoked let me tell you. I can't wait to test her out on a long road trip.

There's always at least one a year. That one day that I cherish as an example of heavenly miracles on Earth. A gift from above that changes all the world in just a short while. The first snow of the season. It awakens such a feeling in me, and this most recent falling was no different. It had been a brief but intense blizzard in the afternoon that had weakened in strength but not endurance by nightfall. It was late, and I had a large house all to myself for most of the evening. Many would have contemplated going to bed. I felt an unquenchable urge to go for a walk. So I bundled myself in my coat and tromped out into the new world.

The darkness of the late evening sky was cloaked in a haze of white and the view before was nothing short of shaded mysterious winter wonderland. Save for a few scatterings of Christmas lights the houses around me were dark and lifeless; the streets barren of all automobiles and after-hours amblers. I could have stepped off the front porch at just about any other night and found similar circumstances, but the magic of the fallen snow changes everything. Blanketed in nature's cold grasp, the noises become absorbed by a palpable silence that rises over everything. Stillness reigns and for one short period time stands still, and I am the only person left alive in the world. I step out onto the walkway now covered by a perfectly smooth layer of frozen dust and feel an almost slight sense of guilt at leaving gross misshapen prints behind me in the work of art Jack Frost has painted. The snowflakes have dwindled to an infinitesimal size unable to be seen by my own eye, but I can still feel them genlty fall as their chilled soft touch brushes past my face as I move.

The trees on either side of the street stretch up and into the night and all at once I am in a dark but open tunnel. With nothing around to disturb my almost trance-like movement I stroll down the very center of the street, with all before me a sight that is meant solely for me. The world is a black and white photo with but a few instances of color that instantly attract my gaze: lights on the otherwise barren trees. The cars that have remained stationary for most of the day have transformed into igloos, rounded mounds of ice and snow. As devoid of illumination as the scene should be, every detail is clear and crisp to my vision, as ever speck of snow reflects every particle of light a hundredfold and shadows dance across the snowscape.

As I wander through the physical realm, so to does my mind through the spiritual. At times a person can feel all alone in the world. At the moment it almost certainly seems to be really true. But as my awareness leaves the here and now I find it drawn to times gone by. I see faces of people I hold dear to my heart. Friends, family, each one wrapped up in a field of memories that lie dormant in my mind's eye and are brought to the forefront without requests or permission and are as vivid as if I was living them in that exact moment. As I roam the deserted streets, the light snow still surrounds me in an aura of crystal. I barely notice it. Without rhyme or reason I find myself standing in the playground of my old elementary school. In light of eternity it was only a moment's breath ago. To me it seems like a whole other life. This yard which for so long was my world has indeed changed. Gone are the tall steel towers of the jungle gym that so many adventures played themselves out on. In their place are the bright unintimidating plastic that molds into shapes that make little to no sense at first or even second glance. I remember the countless children that roamed this area and I slowly realize that these memories now belong only to me, as everyone who lived with me in that time has gone on to other lives and other world's. I pause and remember their names, their faces, and quietly ponder if they ever think of me. I pray that God finds them and blesses them well.

I begin the short trudge home, cold and weariness setting in. I notice a few small prints in the snow that are not mine. No, judging by the spacing and shape I would guess they belong to a creature of the felis domesticus variety. I approach my mother's house, the Christmas tree glimmering in the window. A shake of my feet and a firm brush of my coat to knock away the collection of crystals I've amassed and I step into the indoors, warmed by the now dying fire in the hearth. I look in the mirror; my wavy and disheveled reddish hair has a slight silver streak in it. I grin and shake myself bake and forth, mimicking my dog Jesse, who is lying close to the fire. Aware of my presence she gives her tail a wag but does not bother to get up. I give her a pat on the head and bid her goodnight, then slowly climb the stairs to bed. I crawl underneath the frigid covers and grow more comfortable as my body's warmth spreads through the cocoon of covers. The light goes out and in a few short minutes so do I.

“Are you afraid to fight then?”

“Never, but must our time be petered away on these displays?”

“T’is no waste if it will indeed verify your true identity. Claiming yourself as an elemental with falsity would make for a very underhanded deed. They were the warriors of legend who guarded these lands centuries ago. Men and women who allied with the forces of nature and called thunder from the sky and water from the earth; chosen by the mighty Father Himself. Always servants of the people, many were the tales of their exploits. Some dismiss them now as mere fairy stories, used to entertain the wild imaginations of children. But every creature here was raised on those very stories and the dreams of the realm of Sorinya and its Golden Age. These are words that give them the hope, that inspire them through the shadows that now engulf these lands. To declare your standing and reveal it as total fabrication spits in the eye of my people’s very tradition. T’is an offense that cannot go unpunished.”

The clouds enshrouding the full moon dissipated, and its brilliant light illuminated the forest plaza brighter than any torch and now it could be easily seen what was lurking in the dark and the once ghostly breaths and snarls were now given faces. Arza was surrounded by a wide circle of men in Prince Silas’ company, and many more creatures of Sorinya. The centaurs stamped their hooves as if ready to charge. The wood elves stood back within the trees, hands griped tightly around their rapiers and bow strings. The dwarves held their axes and knives at ready. In the very back stood what was clearly a giant, holding a club, the remains of a trunk of a fallen tree. It rested on his shoulder as he grinned at Arza with a stupid yet menacing face. And there were others: minotaurs, griffins, dryads, wolves, bears, and other creatures had joined the ranks. All were poised and set to attack, murderous eyes glaring. What had once been only a man-to-man conversation was now a standoff between a hundred unkind faces and one sole young man and a sword.

Arza took in his new perspective for a moment, slowly letting his gaze wander across the company.  But for all the animosity hovering over the moonlit clearing, he was the calmest being there. “I don’t deny what you say, no more than I deny my birthright. If you wish for me to prove my word then now is the time before more moments, and things even more precious are lost.”

The fighters took their places; swords drawn and shining in the moonlight. Their eyes locked intensely until at last Azra stated “Shall we begin?” Silas gave no warning but surged forward brandishing his blade. Azra barely had time to counter, spinning swiftly to the side. Weapons clashed back and forth across the stone plaza. Silas being outfitted in a full shirt of mail as well as sword and shield had tremendous strength for one so young, and though his gear weighed him down he still moved with a practiced grace. Azra wearing only his blue tunic appeared gravely vulnerable, but his freedom of movement and speed were unsurpassed. But Silas was impetuous were Azra was patient. The eager prince charged with his shield, only to strike thin air as his opponent leaped out of the way. He turned quickly, just in time for Azra’s foot to connect with his left cheek. Silas tumbled to the plaza floor, light and pain exploding behind his eyes. A flick of Azra’s wrist and the prince found his sword clattering across the cobblestones and his adversary’s blade underneath his chin. “Match” said Azra without disdain or apology, but a subtle hint of respect.

“Treachery!” cried a wolf and the rest of the company roared in agreement. Azra had expected there to still be skeptics after this duel, but apparently nothing save his defeat could have satisfied the violence thundering in their hearts. He vaulted over his downed opponent, tumbling through the air and landing on the center stone. His sword returned to his belt, but the mob gave no signs of accepting a possible surrender as they converged upon him. It did not matter: Azra had no intention of yielding. In one fluid motion he crossed his arms over his chest as if in prayer then spread them wide, palms up, as if he intended to stop the tide of creatures and weapons with the sheer force of his will.

“Enough!” His voice rang through the plaza with a thousand years of inspiring authority. So much so that it was hard to discern whether it was his commanding tone that had halted the charging creatures in their tracks or the corona of fire that had flared to life around him.

            The light of the silver moon falls on the water, giving it a mirror like appearance. The river is calm but ever running; gentle yet pushing forward on its winding journey. The woods are quiet. No sound is heard except that of the flowing water. Not a soul is to be found for miles. A young buck comes to this peaceful setting to quench its thirst, completely at ease as it senses no threat. It steps lightly and lowers its head gracefully to the water to drink its fill.

A sudden crash and the ebbing surface is broken, a shadowy form emerging up from the depths. The buck in its startled state races away, not looking back for an instant. If it had waited just a moment it would have seen that it had little to fear from this mysterious being, gasping for air as it falls to its knees. It remains there for a moment, sputtering and wheezing, fighting for oxygen as the water laps around its quivering form. Once normal breath returns to this creature it slowly crawls from the banks of the river, pulling its drenched body out of the ice cold water and into the light powdery snow. Once out of the river’s current it attempts to stand on its feet, but the creature’s legs are weak and wobbly and it tumbles to the ground again. After a moment’s pause it tries again, slowly, more carefully, and succeeds while still shaking uncontrollably. It is now clear that this shadowed form is indeed a human; a young man, a young, drenched, miserable man.

Beginning to shiver in his soaked clothes he hugs himself tightly and plods heavily to the nearest tree. He walks with his head down, looking as small as he possibly can. Under the age old pine tree the boy turns around to rest his weary form. Slowly he slides down its coarse trunk, sinking softly into the snow. The branches’ broken shadows hide the harrowed heartbroken visage that is his face, his sunken eyes devoid of any light they may have once held. He’s surprised that he’s still alive. Surprised, and despairing. Death would have been a welcome reprieve compared to this. Death would have meant rest. Death would have brought an end to the pain and suffering, an end to the overwhelming guilt that plagues his conscience. To die would have been a blessing, and whatever judgment awaited him as passed into the beyond would have been better than living this hell. Death meant peace.

But no, he had been cursed with life. He suddenly realized that this must be his punishment. Not to die, but to live a life that was no life, condemned to wander the world, lost and alone. No one could overlook what he had done. No one could forgive his heinous sins, not even God. So he would suffer the pain of existence without ever being allowed to pass and leave it all behind. Every waking moment he would feel the shame of his sins, the evil he’d let loose on the world. His friends, what must they think? He had betrayed them and now he was dead to them. Redemption…a beautiful ideal that was beyond his reach. And now he sat here, shivering in cold of the night, stranded in his living limbo. Abandoned. Forgotten.

He slips further and further into grief. Closing his eyes his tortured soul sends a prayer to a god he knows is no longer listening. His last shred of hope vanished like a fading dream. His head buries itself in the fold of his arms, his sopping hair collapsing around him. The silence that comes only in wilderness reigns above all, but with a moment’s pause it is possible to hear the soft sound of crying, floating away unanswered past the silver shining moon.