What happens when I'm bored...

My life hates me

2009-05-01T01:09:00.002-04:00

Don't try to convince me otherwise. It's true. My life, the universe, or maybe jsut some vengeful entity I pissed off at some point in time hate me and wants me to die or suffer as much as possible before finally leaving me alone.

I got sick last saturday. It started with a sore throat. The I lost my voice half way through Beltaine. I was pretty much mute until tuesday. I kept feeling worse, so Tuesday I went to the doctor. I got antibiotics. But, since I am being medicating of course things have to get worse before they get better. My nose and chest are congested, my throat is raw and sore, and i still can't really talk.

Last night I couldn't fall asleep until 6am because I was jsut coughing so much. I feel like shit.

Oh, and my period came yesterday. Icing on the cake of life's epic suckage.

Then life tried to kill my cello after I had to play an hour and a half long concert sucking on coughdrops and holding my breath so I wouldn't cough during the slow, quiet parts. Of course all the medicine wears off during the fucking slow movement! My strap broke as I was climbing the stairs out of the basement in Finney Chapel, sending my cello crashing down the stairs.

I checked on my cello, made sure it was alright, then I had a break down.

All this, then i had to finish my calculus take home. Fuck chemistry. My grade is good in that class, so I don't care about the problem set or lab tomorrow. Just fuck it all. All I'm getting up to do tomorrow is to turn in my exam, then I am going back to bed before life tried to hurt me again.

Cause in my life, the universe just loves kicking a girl while she's down. Its the best time really. Just pile on the suckage and the pain.

Thanks, Life. I effing love you.

21

2009-04-20T00:16:00.002-04:00

Yesterday I turned 21. It was a busy day, I was volunteering, doing tarot readings at Relay for Life for donations for cancer research. Then I had rehearsal. Then I went with Lissa to the Feve, had my first real meal of the day and got wasted for the first time. Man, I was drunk. I could not walk straight, and I was pretty much falling out of my chair.

Then, a guy I met freshmen year that came onto me came onto me again at the bar. Turns out he has the same birthday as me. How about that? I'd forgotten, but he remembered. He also had a grossly inappropriate obsession with my breasts. He likes them A LOT. "I just want to bury my face in them."

.......

He came to sit with Lissa and I, and after I had enough and stated that I had reached my limit, he brought me water (he wanted to buy me a drink, I said no, thanks) so that I would stay longer. He was totally trying to feel me up under the table!

I found all of this actually really flattering. I have never really had a guy show so much interest in me. Its flattering. And really embarrassing. And sexy. Thankfully Lissa was there monitoring the situation, and even piss drunk I have enough sense not to throw myself into a man whore's arms. (He shared some stories of his conquests over drinks) I told him repeatedly to back off. Talking to Lissa today, she told me that after he and she had walked me back to Baldwin he had gotten on her case about not trying hard enough to help him win me over.

..... hmmm, I'm pretty sure she did the good friend thing and made sure that I didn't do something stupid. Cause it was actually sounding really tempting. Man, was I drunk.

Dude that was so much fun!

And the guy was flattering and creepy at the same time. We tutored in the same classroom last semester at the local elementary school. He told me that everyday he saw me in tutoring he couldn't help but think how sexy I was. That's a little messed up, we were in a 4th grade classroom at the time! What the hell? (still kind of flattering though, in an overly sexual, grossly inappropriate way.)

And then this morning I had my first ream hangover, headache and slight nausea and everything.

Today my parents came to visit, we ate out for lunch and dinner and saw 17 Again in the theater. I was so glad to see my parents again. I had really missed them..

Last thing, I started a written diary for the private reflections that shouldn't probably go on the internet. I think someday I might let my friends read it, but not anytime soon. It's really conducive to self-reflection, writing in a diary. It really made me think back. You know, I am still bothered by the move from Virginia to Ohio when I was 8? Its like the root of my identity issues. I found it! Now what?

I'm writing the diary in the journal my friend Sim gave me as a late birthday gift last year. Its a beautiful journal. And today felt like the right day to start writing in it.

Oh, last bit of news: My brother won the mock auditions at CIM! That makes him the best bassist in his section at the Cleveland Institute of Music. I knew he would win. He won and yet he had only just started looking at the music yesterday! That punk. That must be really embarrassing for the rest of the section, to be beat by a guy that only started looking at the music the day before. And from what he told me, it was a landslide victory. The judges didn't even really have to think about it. He never believes me when I tell him how awesome he is at the bass. I think he might finally be starting to believe me.

Enough of that, its time for me to go to bed. Night!

Shadows

2009-04-08T16:26:00.002-04:00

Ah, I almost forgot! I wrote this early this week and posted it on my DeviantArt but forgot to post it here! I came up for the inspiration for this while walking home to Baldwin late at night. There were lots of lights, more so than the usual excessive number of lampposts and what not because of Drag Ball. I was feeling periody, so I didn't go this year (not that I have ever gone before, but I actually wanted to this time!). That and tickets were $15 dollars and I am dirt poor. But I got a job for Commencement weekend and I am applying to work over the summer at Oberlin so that I can earn money if I don't get the REU I applied to (REU stands for Research Experience for Undergraduates; I applied to two different programs and have already been rejected from my first choice. :'( )

Here the poem!

Shadows

Street lights casting shadows
Of my form on the street—
For every light, another shadow
Darkens the ground at my feet.

There’s another cast from the storefront,
From the light pouring outside—
And a fleeting one for the moment
That the car’s headlight passed me by.

All these shadows on the ground,
Cast from all these lights out on the street—
All these shadows that surround
Are like another view of me.

So of all the shadows which pass me by,
As I walk this lonely path at night,
Which one can I say is I
When the shadow is different under different light?

And as I walk shadows disappear
As I leave each streetlight behind—
And ever new ones appear
For every lamppost I come to find.

All the shadows are different colors,
All different shades of grey,
Offset by the golden pallor
That arises with the passing of the day.

As I walk, I ponder.
And my shadows selves darken and fade—
And farther from civilization I wander
As the time grows ever more late

Just beyond the city limits
Where the night sky changes from red to blue,
The unnatural warm glow from electric lights
Gives way to natures true nightly hue.

With moonlight and star shine
The only source of light in sight,
I’ve but one dark shadow mine
Cast by Luna’s natural silver light.

In the night’s darkness I stand
And I can’t help but think—
There I am!
At my moon reflection at my feet.

Confession

2009-04-04T18:15:00.005-04:00

I have a confession to make....

I have been turned to the dark side, I have started role-playing. Well, actually, I joined the group that I role-play with in December, so this is not a new development. Lissa invited me to join her role-playing group in a Dungeons and Dragons game lead by her boyfriend Andy at their house every Friday night. Also in the group in their friend Tony (whom I hung out with a few times out side of D&D to see if we might want a relationship. I ended up telling him I'd rather not date at the moment)

So, back in December I observed for one night as they started the very first day of the campaign (that's what they call this individual game of D&D as opposed to the game that might be played by another group) The group in the game consisted of four characters. Lissa's character is a bad-ass petite red-headed warrior elf that joined this group in hopes of discovering lost elven treasure. She joined because Jared, an old man(played by Andy) had a map to a lost elven city he wanted to go investigate. With the old man was a younger man named Roderick, a blond warrior monk that didn't talk much at all. Finally, there was the construct. A construct is kind of like an android, except run by magic, I'm still a little iffy on the details, but this construct (played by Tony) had a soul, and could walk, talk, and think for himself (as opposed to being controlled by the mage that constructed him). It turns out he came from an alternate plane, but he doesn't remember how he came to this plane. He joins the group so that he can travel and hopefully find out where he came from. He eventually gives himself a name--Valar. On that first night, this somewhat dysfunctional team joined together for the first time and followed the map to a lost elven city, which just so happened to be a lost elven city of the elves that went bad. The elves of this city worshipped a dark goddess and were exiled. They were known as the Drow.

Well, they go to the city, not knowing the evil that lies in wait, and accidentally unleash the ultimate evil, a dark god of the Drow, from his prison deep within the city.

villages out in the middle of nowhere that had managed to become somewhat twisted in time. Twisted to the point that she was about to be forced to marry a known murderer because her father, the village head, wanted the man for his son. It all seems pretty fun from where I sat, so the next week I came back and joined the group. I created my character. My character is Yana Elkwood, a runaway druid from a cluster of druidicYana fled, and after discovering that her father and fiance had sent out bounty hunters to bring her back, she was advised to find a group to travel with. That way she would stay moving around, making it more difficult for any bounty hunters to catch up with her. Also, hopefully she could learn over time to fight and use her druid magic so that she could defend herself alone in the future.

So there is Yana, young, at 17, and somewhat naive to the ways of the world. She finds the burned skull of a werewolf (guess who killed it) in the remains of a campfire out in the wilderness. She follows the tracks of the wagon leading away from the camp. Those tracks lead her to the new camp of the merry dysfunctional group of travelers just outside of the a dense forest that hides the lost elven city. The camp is rather somber (what with them having just unleashed an evil god upon the world, they have good reason, not that Yana knows that...) Her animal companion, a pine marten named Zor she had raised herself after she found it orphaned outside of her village, informed her that they all seemed to be good people. Yana made an executive decision and revealed herself from the shadows so that she could introduce herself. It was an awkward meeting, but she was accepted easily enough after she offered to help heal them (the group was pretty beat up from fighting evil gods and other unsightly things in the elven city).

Yana travels with the group back to the capital. It must have only been the first night back in the capital that Yana heard Roderick slip out of his room in the inn late at night. She decided to follow him. He is fast, but she keeps up. Turns out Roderick has a hobby. His hobby is killing bad guys. Yana hears a conflict form the alley Roderick disappeared into. When she looks into the alley, Roderick is gone, two men are dead and a third is barely alive. Yana heals the injured man, then returns to the inn.

This event sets the color of Yana's relationship with Roderick. She is pretty much terrified of him, even after he says that he only kills bad people. I mean, what if he thinks she is bad? She broke the laws of her village by fleeing her marriage, and she stole from her father. It certainly didn't help that Yana had a very unfortunate talent at finding the bodies of Roderick's victims no matter how well he hid them. She doesn't even try, they are just always there.

Doesn't this sound like fun? I'm not a geek right? .....ah shut up.

Anyway, the game progressed, the group was sent to an alternate plane to retrieve a sword that had that ability to kill a god. Things happen: Talia accidentally kills the witch, a teenage girl that went a little overboard trying to get revenge for her mother's unrightful execution years before by destroying the city and then bringing her mother back to life; Yana asks Roderick to take care of an interrogation only to discover that Roderick had tortured the man to the point that the man took his own life after giving Roderick the information he sought (Roderick broke all of the man's limbs then left him with a knife so that he could end his own life. He then had the gall to tell Yana, who had since realized what a terrible mistake it was to leave Roderick in charge of the interrogation, that no, he had not killed the man); etc, etc.

Last night, things were settling down. We luckily had a few days to rest up and train before we tried to find a way to overthrow a tyrant. However, we needed to stay low. Magic was outlawed in this city, and the tyrant was searching for the sword that we had. Talia (who has been showing more and more evidence of becoming an alcoholic as the game progressed; what with the guilt of unleashing the elves' evil god, killing the girl she felt didn't deserve to die for her crime and ultimately having nothing to look forward to but her execution by her people after she fixes her mistake, that is if she can) and Roderick go drinking in the inn we are staying in. Now, Talia has the constitution of a freaking giant. She drinks poison and survives. Roderick is a different story. It doesn't help that they choose to drink the strongest of the liquor available, Corvis Spirits.

At this point, it is important to know that Yana and Roderick have talked, Yana stills feels that Roderick is kind of crazy, but she understands that she is safe around him. It is also important to know that Roderick has a ring, a very special ring that lets him basically teleport (Yana does not like that he has that ring at all).

Corvis Spirits are called that for a reason, it turns out that this drink is so strong, it makes people see spirits, or hallucinate. Too bad Roderick has a guilty conscience from all of the people he has killed. He looses it when he starts seeing spirits. He activates his ring and starts trying to chase and fight the spirits he saw, leaving a path of carnage in his wake. Talia then puts on her ring of invisibility in hopes of going out into the city unseen, but still drunk.

Yana had come downstairs in time to witness the two in their drunken stupor and wonder to herself why she traveled with the group. Then she sees Roderick disappear. "Oh shit!"

First Yana tries to get Talia to stay behind in the inn, but fails. Thankfully, Talia manages to overcome her drunkenness ( that is she throws up all over the inn floor and asks what is going on), and the inn keeper demands that Talia return to her room. Yana thinks she leaves Talia there as she heads into the city after Roderick, but Talia sneaks out. Valar and Jared stay behind in the inn.

There is more craziness, and a path of carnage to follow. Roderick burns out the ring and looses the ability to transport, but not before he transports himself into the headquarters of a guild hideout. Yana finds him first, but can't calm him. He is fighting real people thinking he is fighting spirits. She settles for helping him fight, in hopes of eliminating the threat around him so she can try to calm him down again. Talia arrives and joins in the fight.

That failed, the guild leader shot Roderick with poison arrows, bringing him down. He then brought our whole group before him and told us that we had to infiltrate another guild's hideout and get back his kidnapped daughter as payment for the damage to his property and the lives of the men Roderick had killed.

So much for time to train in hiding. If we failed in this mission, we would all be killed. Yana is not in the least bit happy with Roderick. She's not particularly happy with Talia either, but Roderick is the one that got them into all of the trouble. They get Roderick to an abandoned house where the group then tries to take care of him. Talia is insistent that they remove the ring from Roderick's hand. Yana goes to heal him, starting with removing the ring but I fail the dice roll. I roll a one, and Yana ends up taking off Roderick's finger along with the ring. She freaks, throwing the finger into the air. Talia catches it, carves the ring from it with her dagger, the realigns it with Roderick's hand and tells Yana to heal it. Yana does, the finger reattaches.

It was so stressful! I play a game for fun and end up doing all of that! The morning was the best. Yana wakes last, but bitch-slaps Roderick as soon as she does wake up. Roderick gets caught up on the situation, and feeling terribly guilty asks, "When will you let me die?"

Yana responds venomously, "No, you won't die, I will heal you every time." This as opposed to earlier in the game after finding that Roderick had tortured the man she asked him to interrogate where she had told him she wouldn't heal him anymore.

Talia continues giving him a run down on everything that happened and that must now be done to repay damages. Yana makes sure to interject when Talia only says that they healed his finger, "Oh, and don't forget about the part where I took off his finger. That was great."

Yeah, that was great.

We stopped playing around 5:30 AM.

Oh, and the other reason for sense of upcoming doom....

2009-04-02T17:42:00.002-04:00

.

Well goddammit it all.

Sense of Approaching Doom explained

2009-04-01T13:57:00.002-04:00

It's April Fool's Day! That means disaster can strike at anytime in the form of a cosmic joke of epic proportions!

J/K... But really, bad things can happen on April Fool's. It was April Fool's of last year that my parents left the pets under my uncle's care, flew up to Oberlin through bad weather (it was a pretty dangerous flight, they weren't expecting the icing) and then my uncle goes and get arrested!

But now that April is here, I remember something else as well. My birthday usually tends to be surrounded by bad things happening. Not always very bad, sometimes, just really sad. In my childhood, every year, my dad was called away for Navy training on the week of my Birthday. Every fucking year. A tornado hit my school district when I was in Elementary school the week before my birthday. I got my first period exactly one week before my 11th birthday. Both my aunt and grandmother died one week before my birthday. Last year's shooting at West Virginia Tech happened around my birthday as well. Things that will distract people from noticing that another year of my life is passing always happen around my birthday. Given my history, I don't think I'm all that paranoid to go expecting something bad to happen around my birthday again this year.

Okay, maybe I'm just more attentive to these things when its around my birthday. (I kind of doubt that). Maybe April is just a bad month....

I know its paranoid, but I can't help but think, "What will it be this year?"

Spring Break!!

2009-03-30T18:13:00.003-04:00

....is over.....

Well damn it all. I'm back at a school and currently cleaning up my room. Moving back in, no matter for how briefly I was gone always results in a mess of a room. I always come back with more stuff than I left with, that and I really do fail at packing light. I have an excuse this time though! I was out of quarters and I needed to do laundry, so I brought it all home.

Before going home I went to Chicago! Chicago was freaking awesome! I went with my friend Lissa and we saw the sights. We couldn't really do any hardcore partying or bar hopping, not that either of us are really the type, but we wanted to try it out. Anyway, we couldn't since I am still underage. But not for long! Less than a month and I turn 21! But damn there is a lot standing in the way before then. So much work, several exams, planning Beltaine, a huge group project, Calculus ( Calculus is in the way of everything, always) all stand in the way before my birthday finally arrives. Its the big 21, too!

I'm a little depressed again. You know, I was kind of depressed before my 18th as well. I guess its just such a big date. I mean, I can't tell myself I'm a kid anymore after 21. I don't know if I am ready for it. I feel like I should goof off and be immature before it comes, but I can't really bring myself to. I like being alone in my room, I like reading in my spare time, and really, all my social goof off time is D&D and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. (I mean really, I have totally become a geek...I blame society sucking so much) I have all of one good close friend here at Oberlin and very little desire to socialize more. I wonder if I will regret this later? I kind of regret it now.

Thing is, I have found, and this is not really a new development, its just bothering me more, that I don't really like the people at Oberlin. I mean, I like the sense of community, I like that people are out there and liberal, and I totally love the campus, but the people as individuals don't impress me. They all seem immature to me, being weird for weirdness's sake and not because they are individualistic. I mean, they are all weird in the same damn way! And I don't fit in. And this is mostly my fault and I mostly don't care. I refuse to change myself, whether it is to become more liberal or more conservative just so I can fit in. I refuse to doll myself up to get a guy (not that there are many guys worth getting). I refuse to be vegetarian and that is FINAL. I love meat. I will kill something and eat it myself because that is the way things are supposed to be and I will not change my eating habits just because I am an environmental studies major! I know eating meat is bad for the environment, but not eating meat is bad for me. My god, I get so pissy, down and downright unpleasant to be around when I am denied my meat. So, I WILL NOT GO VEGETARIAN DAMNIT!

Sigh, anyway, I just needed to get that out of my chest. And I don't know why, but I have this weird sense that something drastic is going to happen to me, I don't know what, but I just feel like something is coming and that it really needs to happen. It might be miserable, I might get sick, I might get injured, but it needs to happen. I mean, I have had dreams since late in high school where something drastic happens and I transform as a person. I call these my chrysalis dreams. I have been having them a lot recently as well as quite a few more nightmares than usual. I can't help but feel that something is coming. I am just hoping that it all turns out well in the end.

Somethings just need to be written down....

2009-02-25T22:37:00.002-05:00

It's been a while...again..... How about that?

I had a terrifying dream last night. To the extent that is must be written down.

The part of the dream I recall separates easily into two parts. The first starts scary, but ends okay, the second, the terror strikes out of now where....and it left me in a bad place for the entirety of the day.

In the first part of the dream I was at my friend Lissa's house. There was over a foot of snow on the ground and I wanted nothing more than to go out and play in it. Lissa had an errand to run, so she left, telling me she would be back soon. I went out to play in the snow. I sat down in the snow in front of her house, throwing snow into the air to rain down on me and what not. it didn't take long before I noticed two men in an old beat up black mustang watching me. I could tell they were bad news. I quickly got up to run back inside Lissa's house. I saw them get out of their car and follow. I locked the front door behind me, one of the men had run up the steps behind me and was banging on the door.

I stepped away from the door. Of course, then I realize that the back door is open. I look towards the back of the house in time to see the other man entering. I charged over to him yelling, "Get out!! Get out now!"

The guy smiled at me as he ran his fingers over the dining room table, "Why? We could have so much fun."

I glowered back at him, "No, we can't. Now, GET OUT!" I shoved him back out the back door with all my strength, realizing in the back of my mind how dangerous it was to be so close to the intruder.

It all turned out okay, I shoved him outside only to see that the police were already here (I never called them...) and Lissa was just arriving back with her boyfriend.

From there, there is a transition into the second part of the dream. I notice her dog Ari, a beagle, and another beagle which I find to be Ari's sister. In the dream Ari was younger than in life. She looked little more than a year or so old. Anyway, with the conflict ended, Lissa recommended we go on an adventure of sorts. I notice the horse's she had brought. I readily accepted th proposition for an adventure. We mounted the horses, Lissa, her boyfriend and I and sped away from her home into the woods (that don't actually exist there in life...) with the beagles leading the way.

I couldn't help but laugh at the way Ari and her sister's ear flapped as they ran.

After a spirited gallop into the wilderness we came upon a clearing. We stopped. We soon realized that the air was heavy, something was wrong. We dismounted the horses to look around. The clearing looked somewhat like the clearing in the arb in town.

Out of the tree line came a man. He wore long robes and emanated a feeling of power. The dogs cowered at our feet. The man came walking towards us muttering, "I finally found you, you are all mine...." The grin on his face was unsettling at best.

Lissa yelled at him to stay away but he just kept on approaching. When she tried to move, she realized that she couldn't. None of us could, we were frozen in place, unable to flee, protest of defend ourselves. The man stalked right up to me and gently stroked my cheek. I couldn't move, but I felt myself shiver. "Mine"

"Stay away from her!" Lissa screamed.

"No." With that, he reached into a sleeve or pocket, and pulled out what looked like an open thin metal hoop. He reached it up to my face and pierced each end of the hoop into my dimples. then he connected a fine metal chain to each end where it connected to my face that lead down to a leather dog collar he secured on my neck. From the outside I saw myself as an old woman, the hoop connected to my dimples forcing my wrinkled face into a creepy fake smile. The man then hooked a leash onto my collar and began to walk away. From the outside I saw him leading the old lady me away, I looked like I would willingly follow him off a cliff. I wanted to scream, I wanted to pull away, but I could do nothing.

Lissa had turned into an old woman too, but her voice remained the same as she screamed for the man to let me go, but she couldn't move.

The man lead me to a picnic table on the other side of the clearing where he directed me to sit across from him. He sat as well. He placed his chin in his hands and gazed happily at me. I saw Lissa walk towards us. It seems she and her bf had been released. The sat next to me. She moved to grab me, but the man crackled with dangerous energy and jerked at my leash when she did, so she stopped. She turned towards the man, her hands folded on the table. She stated calmly now, "let her go."

"no, she's mine."

"No, she's not. You can't have her."

"She's mine! You can't take her back. I won't let you take her away from me!"

For a brief moment I felt like we were role-playing. I imagined myself curled up on the seat, smiling when Lissa approached, playing my hero. Then I realized that I couldn't smile, I couldn't move. I had no free will. All I could do was watch and smile that creepy unnatural smile. I was however no longer an old woman, I was now in the form of my teenage self sitting erect, hands crossed on my lap, gazing into the man's eyes.

"You can't protect her, so you can't keep her." Lissa insisted.

It was then I noticed these little humanoid, dark skinned shapes crawling in mass from teh surrounding forest. They couldn't be more than 8 - 10 inches tall each, but they moved fast, and unnaturally. All of their digits ended in claws. Sharp fangs protruded from malformed little faces. "Let her go"

"NO! SHE'S MINE!"

Then as if watching from the outside, I see the creatures swarm towards the table and leap onto me. They leap onto my back and begin clawing away, ripping into my clothes and flesh. They try to attack Lissa and the man, but those two , but they are able to more and defend themselves. Lissa tries to get the creatures off of me, but the man stops her. "You have to let me help her!"

"NO, She's mine."

"But you can't protect her. If you can't protect her, you cannot have her. Let her go!"

The man is desperate, unable to fight off all the gremlins attacking him, let alone me. His eyes are wide, wild, yet he won't allow Lissa to touch me. All the while the gremlins rip into me. I am now crouched with my head on the table, my back hunched. My face never changes. I want to scream, I want to fight. I know that if I but had free will I could extend my own power and eliminate these monsters all at once, but I have no power, not even over myself.

"LET HER GO!!"

"NO!!"

I wake disturbed, anxious. I never regained my free will before I woke. Was I saved? Did he let me go? I don't know. I was so out of it today. I felt sluggish, kind of like I was still not in full control of my own limbs. It took hours for the terror and anxiousness from that dream to fade.

I just had to write this down... somethings just need to be written down.

Mutant Kitten!

2008-11-25T16:17:00.002-05:00

I had one hell of a weird dream last night. The part I remember most that led to me jerking awake at some ungodly time of the morning went like this.

I was just exiting my dorm. Outside it was sunny with clear blue skies. The leaves on the trees were still vivid and bright oranges and reds, but there was also a plethora of leaves on the ground blowing with the wind. As I stepped out of the back door of my dorm I saw something on the ground nearby. At first I didn't know what it was. It was small, only slightly bigger then my fist and flesh colored. It looked like skin.

Upon closer inspection I was horrified. It was a raw skinned pile of flesh, and that is all. However, before my very eyes, it began to differentiate, I began to be able to see limbs and a little tail. And slowly, fine white fur began to grow from the skin. It was a kitten. A hideously bald fleshy mutant white kitten.

At first the fur was patchy and thin, but once again, before my very eyes the fur grew thicker, although the thing still looked scraggly as all hell. I was convinced of what it was, or at least what it had turned into when it finally moved and released a tiny heart-wrenching "mew."

For a moment I wondered if I should take it to a shelter. I worried though that if I took it the mother cat wouldn't be able to find it. What if the mom was coming back. Of course, then it occurred to me no mom cat would likely come given I just saw this kitten form from a pile of flesh.

Finally I made my decision, I would take the thing to the vet in town to get it checked out so it can go to a home. I couldn't leave it here, it would die from exposure or something would come to eat it, and I couldn't very well stand watch over it forever. Decision made I approached the thing and carefully picked it up. It was so tiny in my arms!

Now with the mutant kitten cradled in my arms, I rose and turned around to begin walking towards the vet. I hadn't gone even a step before I stopped. There hovering in the air right in front of my face, not even a full foot away, was a crow. Terror gripped me. This crow was completely black, black feathers, black beak, and beady black eyes (like most crows) but its wings were not beating. The crow hovered in the air, wings outstretched, beak held open, but unmoving.

I held my breath as I saw the bird's eyes move to focus on the kitten in my arms. Suddenly it let out a loud cry and dove forwards. I barely had time to duck. But I managed and it flew over my head. I turned to keep it in sight only to see an entire flock of crows filling the sky. Where I couldn't before, now I could hear a horrible cacaphone of sound as they all cried out and began swarming towards me. I ran.

The scene shifts to the waiting room of a veterinary clinic. There my brother and dad and some other men I don't know were waiting for me. My brother was wondering what was taking me so long? And why did I ask them to meet me there? Suddenly someone was banging on the doors. One of the other men opened the door and I came barreling inside. I was bleeding from various cuts and my light jacket was torn in multiple places with blood seeping out from underneathe, revealing the wounds.

"What happened?"

"I was attacked."

"By who?" My brother asked, then added, "What is that?"

He was referring to the fugly scraggly still partially bald things in my arms. "It's a kitten" I respond.

He gave me a look that screamed, "Oh, really?"

I continued, "The birds are trying to kill it?"

The guys went on to question me as to why I would put myself out there for an ugly little kitten. I thought about it. Somehow, I just knew that this thing was going to be something beautiful, it was going to blossom into a gorgeous cat, but those birds would kill it before it ever had the chance if I didn't protect it.

I never got a chance to say such, at that moment a bird flew full force into the glass portion of the door behind me. It fractured. I turned to look outside. The sky was dark from the hundreds of crows filling the sky. We were surrounded. I saw another bird come flying towards the window. If it hit, I was sure the window would shatter. I held the kitten in my arms protectively, it mewed in protest. The crow came closer and closer. Just as it was going to hit the glass I woke up.

I don't know why, but I have a really strong feeling that this dream is telling me something about my life right now. Something along the lines that I am the one protecting a hideous something or other that others would abandon because I can see the potential in it. Without my protection, something bad would happen to it. I think the something might be a person that I know others have given up on and now think is a bad person, an I also suspect this person needs protection and guidance. I can't help but wonder if this dream is about that situation with the person in my real life.

All that shines on me

2008-11-15T17:54:00.001-05:00

Come nightfall—
Come the ending of the day—
I’ve lost the light to lead me on my way.
With dusk my strength fails me
And a great weakness grips my limbs
So that all I can do is take a few staggering steps
To lay beneath this slowly dying tree.

Through the barren branches
The moon’s cold light is all that shines down on me.

When did this battle become too much to bear?
So much that at day’s end I collapse without a care?
I once had the sun shining down on me,
Illuminating my path
And showing off all of my victories.
Yet came nightfall; the ending of the day
Now alone I lay beneathe a slowly dying tree.

Through the barren branches
The moon’s cold light is all that shines down on me.

Oh cold moon, please watch over me
As I lay my weary limbs to rest
Beneath this slowly dying tree
Come morning I will rise again,
With all my strength renewed
‘til then I will allow myself
a single night’s recluse.

‘til sun rise I will let my defenses down
‘til morning light I will lay down my crown
Until tomorrow I will let my weakness reign
For tonight I have sleep to gain
My weary limbs will not take a step more
And my guiding light left me abandoned on the forest floor
So I lay down my head and close my eyes.

Through the barren branches
The moon’s cold light is all that shines down on me.

OBAMA WINS

2008-11-05T12:08:00.003-05:00

EPIC WIN FOR DEMOCRATS AND LIBERALS EVERYWHERE! It seriously might have been the end of the world if someone as sickeningly conservative as Sarah Palin ended up in a seat of power. After listening to McCain's concession speech I realized that he truly was a good candidate. He would have been a good president. That does not change my disagreement with his ideal policies for the environment or our country in general, nor does it make me forgive him for selecting a gun-toting, ultra conservative, backwards idiot for his running mate.

Last night I watched the numbers come in at a party celebrating the end of the election as well as the 21st birthdays of two friends. It was a wonderful birthday present for those two to see their desired candidate elected.

Leaving the party I passed through Tappan Square. Several hundred students were screaming and dancing in their celebration. It was brisk and cool with a great many stars shining in the sky. Across the square I saw the crowd celebrating. They beat the drums with wild abandon as they chanted Obama's name and danced together under the crescent moon's pale light and the warm amber glow of the band stand's lights.

In that brief walk from my friend's apartment to my own dorm with the sounds of cheering filling the air and echoing from the surrounding buildings I was so happy. I'm sure I wore a contented smile for the entire walk home.

Life is great. Things are going to change.

Of course, then I got back to my room and had to finish my lab report before finally being able to sleep... but not even that could bring me down!

Sunsets

2008-10-09T00:09:00.003-04:00

My room faces the west. As a result, in the mornings it stays cold for a really long time! However, that also means we get to see some spectacular sunsets. Those things just creep up on you! Here are a few pics to sunsets from my room, one today and one from several weeks ago.

It basically makes the cold worth it. Its nice to look up from my work and see something like that.

Heart Light- The Story Begins

2008-10-01T16:12:00.003-04:00

Don’t scream.
Don’t cry.
The call will draw the Dark inside.
Hearts are such fragile things
That they will willingly go where the darkness reigns.
Should you cry in fright, shock or fear
When at last before you, your heart’s light appears
Into the darkness your heart will flee
And only darkness will come from where it used to be.
So don’t scream,
Don’t cry
No matter how much the light might sear your eyes,
For such a call will send away
The fragile light a heart emanates

Heart Light

Finding Your Inner Light. The title of the book in her hand was laughable in her opinion. The corny cover illustration of a glittery pink heart with what appeared to be laser beams shooting from it didn’t help to improve her opinion. “Why did I buy this?” she asks herself as she tosses the book onto the floor by her bed. She follows the same motion herself as she plops onto her mattress, inadvertently sending a throw pillow to join the book on the floor.

“Hey, Lesa?” the girl’s roommate asked from the neighboring bed.

“Hm?”

“I’m going to Jack’s place for a party, you want to come?”

“No, thanks.” Lesa responded as she crossed her arms to cradle to head. Her roommate tried for a few minutes to convince her otherwise, but ultimately Lesa found herself alone in her dorm room as the light in the room faded with the coming of night.

Lesa opted for staying alone this night so she could ponder the outcome of the workshop she had attended earlier that day after which she had purchased the book now residing on her floor. In the past months, she had taken to attending classes on spiritualism, religion and faith in an attempt to “find out what was missing in her life”. Her father had taken to harassing her about her lack of religion every call home, arguing that her dissatisfaction with the world had to result from her rejection of religion in her childhood. Indeed, not a power in existence was capable to convincing Lesa to go to church, not since her mother died. Finally her father had resorted to giving the okay on any and all religions, clubs, groups and whatever so long as she would stop being so darned negative about life. He was even paying for it.

The latest endeavor lead her into some New Age religions. The earlier workshop was lead by a grungy long haired man that seemed to have missed the hippy age. Not a thing he said made any sense to Lesa, yet she found herself purchasing his book after the class. In all likely-hood she was just using the book as an excuse to spend her dad’s money as payback for pushing her to attend such garbage. However, this same excuse would not explain why she found herself picking up the book and reading the first chapter. On the first page was a grim little poem about losing your heart to the darkness. Yet, despite her scoffs she found herself skipping through the book for more information.

“Wow,” she murmured to herself, “ ‘Power exists already within yourself, completely separate from whatever power and spiritual aid you might request from a greater power’. That’s a nice change from ‘ooh, our god is all powerful, and you are not, fear him!!!’” She giggled to herself. And so, she found herself become more and more intrigued to the point that after reading about finding your inner heart she thought, “Why not?” put the book back on the floor to try it.
She drew from her experience on mediation and shamanic journey’s from some other unfortunate religious endeavors in order to find inner peace and go to her inner world. It was really a lot like daydreaming.

She imagined herself leaving her body and wandering her room, her own personal safe space. The book had stated that to find your heart, you had to find the light within your inner world. So Lesa stood by her bed and looked around for a light. Surely a light would not be too hard to find, she thought, yet there was no light in sight. She left her dorm room to find herself in the hall of her home. At the end of the hall, the door to her childhood bedroom was ajar. She wandered into her old room and found everything as she used to have it in her childhood. But she saw no light.
In the corner facing the window was an antique armoire she had inherited from her grandmother. Thinking the light might be hidden in there, she opened it only to find the park where her mother took her to play as a child inside.

Things continued like this for sometime. Lesa ended up traversing not only her room and the park, but her parent’s room, the attic where she used to play dress-up with her mother’s old clothes, the forest where her family used to go camping every summer, her grandmother’s garden, etc, etc, but no where could she find her heart.

Eventually the girl gave up. She turned around to find her dorm room behind her. And right here, she found something suspicious. At the foot of her bed sat a chest that wasn’t supposed to be there. It was her mother’s old chest where she stored her books and drawings, souvenirs and pictures from her childhood. That chest used to sit in the corner of the office, but after she died, her father had moved it into a dark corner of the attic. Lesa hadn’t seen the thing in years. The floor creaked beneath her feet as she crept towards the chest. She dropped to her knees before it and carefully unlocked it and pulled the lid up. Inside there were pictures of her and her mother together before her mother had gotten sick; pictures from years ago. But there was a bit of golden light peaking out from beneath a picture of her mother and her at a festival.

She moved the picture aside, and there, glowing like a star was an orb of golden light. It’s light was warm on her face. Looking at it felt like laying under the sun on a warm spring day. It’s so bright, I bet it is hot, Lesa thought, and with that thought in mind she extended her hand towards it to hesitantly brush her fingers against its surface. It was hot alright, touching it felt like sticking your hand into a fire, and as she touched it, the light had flared, burning her eyes.

She screamed.

And the pain was gone. She opened her eyes, yet she saw nothing. “Oh god, I went blind from looking into my heart.” If she were not halfway to hysterics she probably would have laughed at the thought. But alas, she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face, and that is a very sobering concept.

Recent Works

2008-09-28T18:44:00.002-04:00

It's been a while....again. I have a few new works and one big work in progress. Here are the new poems. The last is the intro to a short story I am working on. Enjoy!

Rune Incantation

Fire, Water, Air and Earth;
Those are the forces that to these stones gave birth.
Those same forces are alive in me,
With out power shared, let us see.
Divine the future,
Explain the past,
Let the answers lie in these runes cast.
Earth and Sky, Sun and Moon
Reveal this to me as your boon.

Damn, I'm Beautiful

Sometimes I’m not enough
To satisfy myself.
Who’s that girl in the picture?
Surely I’m not her?

Sometimes I think I’m fat,
Sometimes I think I’m short,
Sometimes I wonder who I am,
And in the mirror, who is that?

Standing next to my peers,
I feel inferior,
Looking so beautiful, so fair,
I fear I don’t compare.

I wonder if I see myself
For how I truly am?
Or is my image of myself
Skewed by some mental scam?

Sometimes I don’t like myself
And I wish that I would change
Sometimes I know for sure I should
But don’t know where to begin.

But then sometimes, late at night
I stretch before the mirror—
And smile a very satisfied smile
Before playing with my hair,

Because alone at night
The girl I see
By the bathroom’s light
Is the woman I want to be.

Such full breasts—
What sensual curves—
Dark but vibrant eyes
And rich voluminous hair,

At such times as these,
I really can’t help but think,
Despite my daytime insecurities,
“Damn, I’m beautiful.”

Don't scream. Don't cry.

Don’t scream.
Don’t cry.
The call will draw the Dark inside.
Hearts are such fragile things
That they will willingly go where the darkness reigns.
Should you cry in fright, shock or fear
When at last before you, your heart’s light appears
Into the darkness your heart will flee
And only darkness will come from where it used to be.
So don’t scream,
Don’t cry
No matter how much the light might sear your eyes,
For such a call will send away
The fragile light a heart emanates.

Hang tight for the ensuing short story!

2/3s of the way through the summer

2008-07-31T18:02:00.002-04:00

Its the last day of July, my summer vacation is 2/3 over and I don't have much to show for it. Well, a trip to Japan, that's quite a bit to show for it, but aside from that, not much. I don't have steady work, so I am dirt poor. I can't get steady work because I don't have a car. I don't know if I mentioned this before, but my uncle wrecked my car while he was still living with us. As a result of that and our own lack of money, I don't have a car to call my own. Therefore, my ability to leave the house is controlled by the availability of my parents. I had wanted to go to the gym on a regular basis to get into shape. Too bad the gym is a ten minute drive away. My work-out schedule is thus governed by how tired my mom is after coming home from work. That sucks a lot. I am officially bored of being home and I am fully ready to go back to school where I can work, study and work out at my leisure because everything is in walking distance.

My unproductive summer can be blamed on my bad luck (fired from movie theater on a misunderstanding of words and not having a steady job at my back-up because my mom's boss told them I would be in Japan in the summer, so they hired somebody else!!! My only work for the summer comes from organizing this woman's house for her!) and on the lay-out of suburbia. Damn you Suburbia!! Because of you I can't go anywhere but Walgreens without use of a car. You are bad for the environment and you ruin my life! Damn you to hell!

I am very ready to go back to school. I have also had very little social contact this summer. Most of my friends are taking summer classes. (I couldn't take summer courses even if I needed to because I can't afford them. I'm maxed out on financial aid) The two friends that aren't out of town on vacation or at school work 9-5 every day because they have steady work! What the hell? I mean really! What the hell did I ever do to anybody to deserve this luck? I could of sworn I was a decent person!

ugh...

The walls are blue.

2008-07-19T22:44:00.002-04:00

The walls in my room at home are blue; a deep dark blue that make all times of day feel like twilight if the blinds are closed. Like my feelings about my own self-image, my feelings about my room change often. The walls are bold, and I sometimes and sorely tempted to invest in new paint to repaint my walls a nice calming light teal, something closer to turquoise or sea foam. I have yet to do such a thing. Maybe one day. But since I continue to swing back to liking the calming darkness of my room, the color is likely to stick around for some time yet.

The colors of my room promote dreams, or so I like to think. I could always just be full of it. Speaking of which, and quickly skipping over the fact that I have recently re-realized that my self image in both reality and in my dreams do not match the reality of how I actually look to others, nor do my self images and dream images match each other, I had a cool dream the night before last. My mom interrupted me before I could finish writing the entirety of the dream in my recently rediscovered dream journal, but I still remember almost all of the dream. I have found that if I think really hard soon after waking, forcing myself to relive the dream in waking while the dream is still fresh, I can remember most of it. Then later, when I go through the dream in my mind again, I can actually re-dream it in waking life.

The dream starts with me being in a large crowded hall with a group of friends. Awake I realize that none of my friends in my dream are friends in real life, let alone real people I have ever seen. Ignoring that, I run away from the city with these friends when the government informs the population that a human eating demon is moving into the city and there is nothing they can do to stop it. While others cry out in terror, myself and six others slip out of the hall and hike out of the city under cover of darkness. All the while we were terrified of being caught by the human eating demon during our escape from the city. We escape unhindered, retreating deep into the forest to an old abandoned camper trailer. The trailer was shaped more like a house, square in shape rather than rectangular. Inside there was a small entrance way with a sink, stove, and a bathroom in a closet. A second door within this entrance area leads into the rest of the trailer, that is a large square room that someone had set up with three sets of bunks and one lone twin sized bed. Tall windows were obstructed by the bunks that took up all the wall space save for a few feet of wall that was covered by a tall dresser instead.

The seven of us lived here commuting into the city when we needed something and to work, but otherwise staying secluded in the woods. Our hope being that the human eating demon would stay in the city were his prey was concentrated and easily captured rather than all the way out in the middle of no where he would have to search a long time to find only a few.

Months passed with us living in the trailer, winter set in. Five were inside bundled up in their beds, retaining what warmth they had. Myself and one other girl were inside, but not in bed. The two of us found that some animal, a raccoon most likely had gotten into the entrance way. We ran to shoo it away. The door was mainly made of glass which the animal broke in escaping. As a result, the cold was flowing into the cabin in mass. The other girl chased the animal away, then came in freezing. She looked at the door. "What are we going to do?" She asked.

"Don't worry, I answer, I will take care of it. Go back inside and get warm." Once the other girl was inside the main room I got started piling up the snow that had blown inside. I managed to construct a new door, or rather, more of a snow and ice barricade to keep in the warmth and out the wind. However, the shattered glass of the door was all over the floor, and I ended up cutting my hands while constructing the barricade. As a result, my blood was mixed in the snow and ice of the barricade.

Once done, I bandaged myself and went to bed. I don't know if it was days or hours before I woke next in the dream. I may have become ill constructing the barrier of snow and ice in the cold of the blizzard that had been howling outside of the trailer. I know that at one point in time that I became aware of the other people in the trailer they were discussing the possibility that the smell of my blood all over the makeshift door might draw animals, or the demon. The eldest guy among us, a man in his upper twenties reassured the other of the unlikelihood of the demon being drawn to the smell of blood this far from the city. He also mentioned the deal the government had cut with the demon. People had stopped going to work, terrified of being caught by the demon. To encourage people to go about their lives, they go the demon to agree to only prey upon children so that the adults could protect the children, keep them inside and always accompanied by adults so that the adults were safe, and should a child be taken, the blame could be lain on the adult for not taking proper care to fully protect the child. With this agreement, the demon could not come after us. We are all adults. A woman wondered aloud, "But, if the government has no power over the demon to get him to leave the city, what power do they have over him to make him limit who he preys upon?"

When I next woke I realized I was in bed. I didn't actually recall getting into this particular bed. It was the upper bunk, close to the ceiling. The window reached from the bottom bunk all the way to just a few inches from the ceiling, so when I opened my eyes, it was like I was outside. I could not see the wall when I first opened my eyes.

However, as soon as I opened my eyes, I shut them. Sitting in a tree only twenty feet from the side of the trailer was a man. A man with curly brown hair hanging over his closed eyes, his arms crossed over his chest, and one leg hanging from his perch, the other crossing the branch to stabilize him. From his back extended two expansive dark brown bat wings that hung on either side of him towards the ground.

Sitting in the tree outside my window was the demon.

I did everything in my power to keep my features relaxed, like I was still just sleeping. Moments passed. The inside of the trailer was quiet, where was everyone else? All I could hear was the morning song of the birds outside. Eventually the urge to see if the demon was still there sleeping in his perch overwhelmed me. I very slowly allowed my eyes to open so I could see out through just my lashes. There was the demon, still in his same perch, same position. I almost relaxed, that is until I realized his eyes were open, and he was watching me.

I allowed my eyes to flutter closed, continuing to pretend I was sleeping. I stretched my arms over my head, and my legs out all the way so my toes touched the foot board. It was indcredibly difficult to feign sleepiness and sleep laden limbs when adrenaline was pumping through my system, my heart racing a mile a minute. Still in my stretch, I tried to decide whether or not to turn my back, turn over and curl up and continue feigning sleep until the demon left. I heard that the demon couldn't enter a home unless he was invited inside. I could pretend he wasn't there. I was safe.

I rolled over at the end of my stretch, eyes still closed and curled up in a tight ball, arms wrapping around my legs. Moments passed again. Soon enough, curiosity got the best of me, and I opened my eyes to see if there was anyone else in the trailer. I didn't feign sleep this time, just opened my eyes. The promptly flew open in shock. There was the demon sitting on the window sill on the other side of the room, and staring straight at me. He was inside. Inside alone with me.

"You're finally awake. I had been worried." the demon said. It seemed as if one moment he was on the other side of the room, then he was standing beside the bed, stroking my face in a way that can only be described as "lovingly".

In terror, I had no voice to speak.

"Don't fear me love. Your government had told me they would give me my mate no matter who she was, whether she wanted to come with me or not, if I agreed to their limitations on my prey. I jumped at the opportunity to have you."

Me? His mate?

"I smelled your blood on the wind. I was furious to find you hurt. You friends didn't take very good care of you. I could have lost you."

"Where are they?" I asked. Had he eaten them?

"Your government arrested them. Any other questions?"

"How did you get inside?"

"I got permission from you government. The same reason they arrested your friends. You were squatting on government land without paying taxes, let alone rent. As such, this building does no belong to you or your friends, but to your government, and when I told them there were illegal squatters keeping my mate from me, they took them away and gave me permission to enter. I've been looking after you."

Looking for me? The human eating demon? Me, his mate?

Here, the rest of the dream becomes fuzzy. I know there is some adventure in the city as I try to flee the demon. Eventually I take to running to him rather than away. Then there is another exciting adventure on an island in the middle of the sea surrounded by other small islands. For some reason there is a threat of the sea swallowing the island we were on, and we had to retreat onto another island on a little row boat. I haven't quite been able to recall the connection between these dream segments. I think the disparity can be explained by my having woken briefly when my mom arrived home to do some errands.

I feel like the first half has the foundations to become a really cool short story. What do you think?

It's been some time, ne?

2008-04-05T21:38:00.001-04:00

It truly has been quite some time since my last post. Things have been a little crazy. I had spring break, that was nice. But now it's over. That's not nice.

I believe that I mentioned once before, a long time ago, that my uncle was living with us. Well, now he's not. I felt guilty when I found out that he was no longer in our house. For a brief moment, I wondered if it happened because I wished for it. I wanted him to move out and go out on his own, stop freeloading and disrupting our once peaceful home life. However, I reassured myself, I didn't wish for what he got. (Though don't think I didn't see it coming.)

My uncle was arrested.

It happened at a very bad time. My parents left him in charge of our house and our pets for one night while they flew up to visit my brother and I to see an Edgar Meyer concert and the following master class in which my elder brother played for Edgar Meyer. Prior to the Edgar Meyer Concert, I was sitting next to my parents in a balcony seat overlooking the stage. After my parents informed me of the slightly dangerous highly eventful flight. After this, my mom turned to fully face me in her seat and said, "Guess what's new with your uncle."

My first guess had been that his girlfriend in Puerto Rico was pregnant, then I remembered that she had already gotten been pregnant and had a miscarriage since he'd been with us, so she couldn't be pregnant. Then I remembered how he had been depressed and moping the entire time I was home because he had found out that there was a warrant out for his arrest in Puerto Rico. Before I left, I had come to understand that it was a misunderstanding, and the case he thought it was referring to had already been dismissed in the past. With this in mind, I made my guess.

"He got arrested."

"Yes"

"Oh god..."

I'll spare you details, though I'm sure you actually want them. Well, you can't have them! J/K!

Maybe later. Anyways, my uncle in currently in jail, waiting to see whether or not he will be extradited to Puerto Rico. He's mad at my mom, even though really she's the only person able to help him. When she first found out that he had been arrested, during her time with her children, mind you, she immediately set to calling the police office, the prison, his girlfriend, trying to find out where he was and how to help him. While she was on the phone with my uncle's girlfriend, she stated that when her brother got his phonecall, hopefully, he'd call her instead of the girlfriend. Well, this pissed off the girlfriend. I see why, but really, come one. She's in Puerto Rico! There's really not much that woman can do for her man who's been arrested several thousand miles away! None the less, she's holding a grudge and not answering my mom's calls, leaving my mom to communicate with my uncle's lawyer without her. Now my uncle is mad at my mom for insulting his girlfriend after all that our family has done for him! What an ungrateful freeloader! He broke my car, made a mess of our house, moved in and changed my brother's room, and after all that, he has the nerve to be upset at my mom for being sensible, something he obviously is not.

Do you want to know how the police found him? He said he wanted to kill himself while he was at work. His boss called the police to tell them he was worried this man might try to take his own life, then they had his name in the system to discover the warrant our for him. I really, really don't have much patience for the suicidal.

I understand, some people really need help. They don't have the personal strength to handle the problems life throws at them. As a result, they lose hope and eventually say they want to kill themselves, which is really a call for help, because if they really truly wanted to die, they would do something about it, not talk about it.

The thing is, he had been moping around for some time, depressed. My mom knew he had problems with depression and repeatedly reached out to him, asking him to talk to her, or seek help. Instead, he goes to work, to his brand new job he only just secured and tells people he wants to kill himself! What the fucking hell? Now he's in prison, he's completely fucked up his life more so than it was before, and stressed out my mom who is the only sensible person among her troubled siblings. She doesn't deserve all the trouble her brother is putting her through. For that, I am furious with him, and I really can't bring myself to feel sorry for him and his situation. He brought it on himself. He committed a crime, he left Puerto Rico, then drew the attention of the authorities to himself. It's his fault, and he shouldn't bring my family down with him. I can't feel the familial bonds with a man that is only family by blood, not by familiarity. I have not seen anything of this man since I was 11. I am soon turning 20. He appears in the life of my family and brings with him stress and awkwardness. I can't feel bad.

And for that, I feel terrible.

My specialness

2008-03-03T23:47:00.002-05:00

Today I managed to slice my finger open on my umbrella while I was attempting to retrieve it from my backpack's side pocket. I think it takes a certain amount of talent to slice your finger open on something like that. Therefore you should all fear and worship my amazing self-injuring powers. I don't even try.

I hate it when I'm right...

2008-03-01T18:27:00.001-05:00

I hate it when I'm right. My prediction was perfectly on. Goddamn it. I'd much rather it come as a surprise so I can whine more. Bleh.

Menstrual

The pain begins—
I write it off as “Just can’t get comfortable.”
If it weren’t for denial
I’d see the inevitable

But every time
I ignore the warnings
Turn away and pretend
Everything will be okay

The pain spreads
Before I know it
I collapse on the stair landing
What if I had gone one more step?

My vision blurs
The cooing of my roommate
to her boyfriend
Makes me feel violent.

Medicine dulls the pain,
But I feel so weak,
I can hardly walk—
I guess I spend today in bed

Two days, three tops,
I’ll be fine.
Next month will be the next time.
Goddamn the pain.

.

2008-02-29T17:10:00.003-05:00

I would just like to say, it sucks to know that your period is coming. It's like a black cloud hanging ominously in your future that you can't ignore with forewarning. In high school and still today, my mom has this canny ability to predict my period down to the day. We'll be in the car and she'll just suddenly say, "Hey, don't you get your period today or tomorrow?" I won't even be expecting it, then the following day, lo and behold, I have my period. I avoid calling her around this time of the month to avoid the forewarning.

But obviously my body can't have that. Three to four days before my period comes, while I am still firmly planted in the denial stage that it will ever return again, I don't feel as perky as usual. Not all day, just bouts of, "Meh, I don't feel like dealing with you!" I'll cramp for a moment then it goes away, so I can pretend it was a stomach cramp, or indigestion instead.

And the final clue, my dreams change content. I don't necessarily remember all of them, but around that time of the month, the dreams are most definitely all rated above pg-13. Let's just keep it at that. Nice of my hormones to invade my dreams and tell me, "Guess what? You're fertile, bitch, but its a limited time offer! Act now!" At least I know based on dreams alone when to have sex to get pregnant, or the other way around. Too bad I have no relationship for this to help out with. What the hell, Body, I mean really. The biological clock is not supposed to tick so strong until I'm older. I'm not nearly old enough to be dealing with this crap. Never mind the random pregnancy and mother dreams. Way too damn many of those.

But at least I'm quotable. My room mate just reminded me of something funny i said yesterday: "I wanted to laugh because her face made me want to cry, but I was too busy crying."

Yes, that makes everything all better. Just laugh and forget everything you just read.

New pens!

2008-02-28T13:28:00.002-05:00

My new pens came! The ones I spend way too much money on, but I'm so happy I have! They're Uniball Signo DX gel pens, size .38 point. They are my drug. They are beautiful, and elegant. Once I got them I wanted to try all of them out, see what colors they were and all, I ended up writing this poem based on rhyme alone, that literally just flowed out of the pen. I had no idea I would write a poem when the pen touched paper. (It wasn't even nice paper, it was a receipt!) So now I have a multi-color poem on the back the the pen receipt.

This is the poem:

The End of Days

Today we fall to the end of days.
Say goodbye and the last of your praise;
After this there will be no return,
So go ahead, let the sorrow burn.

This right here is the end of the line.
It’s really too bad, there was time to try
To stop this before the apocalypse came,
Now we are left to the survival game

Because now we are trapped in the end of days.
Say not your regrets, stave off your prays;
There will be no return to the ways of old,
So go ahead, let the rage take hold.

So much for humanity—
So much for love—
Look what barbarians we’ve become
Now that the end of days has come.

Yesterday we fell to the end of days.
We said out goodbyes and the last of our praise
For a society fallen that will not rise again,
Now we are left to the survival game.

I'm very happy with this poem. That is how poetry is done, it just flows, like the ink in my really totally aweseom Uniball Signo DX pens.

Week's end

2008-02-22T11:46:00.003-05:00

It's Friday. It's about time. I was very slightly dreading this day. This morning I had a kanji quiz in japanese that has been hanging over my head all freaking week. I studies and I am glad to say that I think that I did quite well. I'm pretty sure I only missed one. We had to know 87 new vocab words for this quiz, not that we would be tested on all of them, but we didn't know which ones would show up on the quiz either. I made flashcards and studies my best, I think I did very well.

The rest of the day should be nice. Japanese History will go as usual, but then in Anthropology we're watching a Jane Goodall documentary on chimpanzees. I'm pretty excited about that. Then tonight I intend to go to a concert of a group called Cello Fourte, which is, you guessed it, a cello quartet, but they appear to play more modern music (not that I don't love classical music, cause I do). The group has the appearance of a punk group on their poster.

Well, thats enough of that. Oh, and I finally transfered all my poetry from the last year into my poetry journal. That was an achievement that actually made me feel good about life. And I spent $25 on the pens. Not just any pens, but the awesomest pens ever that make me really happy. +refills. I will be happy for a long time to come.

Now, that's enough. Bye.

It's been a while...

2008-02-17T13:22:00.002-05:00

Its been quite a while since I wrote in a blog. I did write in a journal while I was in Japan, one day I will transfer those thoughts into this blog. My friends are rather curious about how the trip was.

Spring Semester started two weeks ago now. I like all of my classes, of which there are only four, thank goodness. I'm taking Japanese 402, Modern Japanese History, Geology: Earth's Environments, and Anthropology: Human Origins.

That's not really why I chose to write now, though. I had a rather interested dream last night. It was a little more convoluted than normal, but I won't hold that against it. I'll instead choose to disregard the entire middle section that is basically entirely not related to the interesting part. The scene I saw just before waking refers back to an earlier segment of dream before I ventured out into the city and dealt with all the convoluted nonsense.

It started like this: I was traveling. Many of my traveling companions were the same people with whom I had traveled to Japan, though I have a strong suspicion that this dream did not take place in Japan given the complete lack of Japanese language in the dream (yes, I have dreamed in foreign languages before, only if I have studied the language though). I was hanging out with this guy, and it seems he took a liking to me, because his caretaker approached me and told me I was the best candidate so far for the guy's bride. It turns out the guy was royalty, and after conferring with his caretaker/advisor, both agreed that I would be the best match. I was pretty much asked to marry the prince and begin preparing to help rule a nation. I responded that I was not suited for the job. The advisor urged me to think on it, and get back to him. I did not have to rush my decision.

The rest of the dream proceded in it's nice convoluted way until the end. Just like most mornings during the Winter Term trip in Japan, my room mate and I packed up our stuff. For some reason my suit case had been changed, and I was given a thin plain suit case to put my things in. Inside there were empty garment bags, cosmetics bags, towels, all labeled "Property of the King's Companion". I didn't find it funny.

Upon exiting the room, my room mate headed towards the elevator, I waved her off telling her that I would catch up later. After recieving her confirmation of having heard me, I went the other direction down the hall. I found the room I was searching for. I was basically the next room down on the opposition side of the hall of mine. I took a deep breath and knocked. What appeared to be a secretary opened the door with her hands full of papers. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Um, yes, I was told to find a Mr. (i forgot the name)."

The old advisor appeared at the secretary's shoulder. "Ah, you came, Ms. ___"

"Yes, I made my decision." I lowered my voice, "Can I please speak with you alone?"

"Of course, come in and wait on the couch. I be right there."

I went and sat down on the couch. The room I had entered was more of a suit. The first room seemed to be a living area, though currently it was filled with people scurrying about with stacks of paper, and making calls. The coffee table before the couch was filled with platters of food. I ignored these. It might surprise you, but I was rather nervous about telling the advisor my decision.

Shortly the advisor came and sat next to me on the same couch. The prince had followed behind him and sat alone of the loveseat at a right angle with the couch I was on. I glowered at the advisor, "I thought I said I wanted to speak with you alone, not in a room full of people and with the prince we're talking about." Since recieving the impromptu marriage proposal, I was very shy around the prince despite not having been so before. The advisor asked if it was a problem. With a sigh I replied, "No, no it's okay. I guess he should hear, too."

"I made my decision about the proposal you gave me. I know that you were looking for a leader, not so much a bride, but that doesn't change the fact that I would some day be marrying the prince. So, um.....wait, are those plantains?"

I hadn't noticed before, but several of the platters on the table before me were filled with fried plantains or platanos in Spanish. The advisor answered, "Yes. We thought that it would be nice to welcome our future lady with foods she was familiar with. Do you like them?"

"Oh...yes, thank you." I blushed. "Yes, so, um, I haven't really known the prince for too, long. I don't think I'm ready for marriage, but, um, I will try. I'm not guaranteeing that I will be the one, or that I will marry him someday, but I work with you and help you out."

It would seem that this is what they both wanted to hear. The prince's face broke out into a huge smile, and the advisor happily replied, "I am glad to hear that. Of course you don't have to agree to spend the rest of your life with him just yet. I'm sure though, that given time you will surely fall in love!"

I laughed nervously. I don't know why I agreed. I certainly never dreamed of someday becoming a queen. I mean, this is modern day, there is a supreme shortage of royal material to go around sweeping girls off their feet, let alone going around and finding someone based on their ability to lead. This was most of the dream. There was a little more about me starting to work with the prince to help make decisions about the state, but the conflict was over.

Weird huh? It's amazing how many dreams I have that involve a relationship and how very few of those involve normal relationships. What does this say about me? Given my total lack of relationships in real life, I have a suspicion that I just need a relationship, period. WTF.

Lost Wallet

2007-12-17T10:12:00.000-05:00

It's snowing in Oberlin. It has actually been snowing since Friday night. I'm sure we are approaching the one foot mark of snow.

Last year I was horribly ill during the one big snow on Valentine's day leaving me unable to go outside. So lets say I'm really happy with the snow. Never mind exam period. On my way back to my room yesterday I saw a particularly nice snow drift and plopped down to make a snow angle! That was a really deep snow angel.

Two some hours later after finishing my Philosophy take -home exam I decided it would be a good time to eat and go to the japanese history study session. It was at this time that I realized i was missing something, something rather important, that held my license, student id, and credit cards. I had lost my wallet.

I nearly turned my room inside out looking for the wallet to no avail. I began to panic, what if I lost it in King when I was taking stuff over there with my room mate? What if I lost it in the snow? That was two hours ago and it was still snowing! I went ahead and printed my philosophy final to go ahead and turn it in in King while I looked to my wallet. So then philosophy was completely out of the way but I still had no wallet. I dug around in the snow where I made the snow angel and scanned the entire path I walked from king to my dorm several times. Still no wallet.

I called Safety nd Security to see if they found it and checked the lost and found at Wilder Desk, but still not one had turned in my wallet. I ended up skipping the Japanese History review session, I was too stressed out to deal with it, plus in my current state, it wasn't like I would retain anything. So I turned to Ni and said I was leaving.
"But what about the review session."
I shrugged and said, "I'm prefectly confident I'll do fine in this class. I did all the readings and attended every lecture, I'm not worried."

A girl standing near by was clearly shocked by my lack of stress about teh course. Ni offered to give me notes of the review session, but I told her I would be fine without them and that she didn't have to unless she wanted to, then left.

I scanned the way I had walked from King several more times after I returned. The last time I had ventured out after once again turning my room inside out I saw a curious spiral of snow form on the ground at my feet. As I watched it, It exploded upwards and I quickly found myself engulfed within a snow tornado. it was cold and the snow moving in the forty mph winds stung. This happened several times as I ventured to my snow angel and dug in the near foot of snow gathered there. I didn't find my wallet.

Ultimately I told myself to relax and wait till morning. By the time I had realized the wallet was missing it was dark, and the darkness was most likely teh reason I had yet to find the wallet. I set my alarm to wake me up far earlier than I needed to wake to go to my Marine Science exam at 9:00 in the morning, and went to sleep. Let's leave it at last night's dreams were really really weird. yeah, damn those satanic cursed babies and bunny rabbits, never mind the people eating giant octopus tentacle like worms. they suck too.

8:30 in the morning this morning, I ventured to my snow angel one last time. The side walks had been plowed, and I sincerely hoped my wallet hadn't fallen along the side walk and been buried that way. In the snow angel I once again dug around where my pockets would have been and finally found my wallet buried on the left side of the snow angel. The smile that split across my face in that moment made me feel wonderful. I shook the snow off the recently recovered article and returned it to its rightful place in my right back pocket. The smile almost never left my face as I walked over to Severance where I would take my Marine Science final shortly, not even when we found the doors were locked and had to wait outside in the cold.

Once we got inside and began to warm up I realized that my butt was cold. I guess it takes a while for a wallet left freezing in the snow overnight to warm up.

Active Dreaming

2007-12-04T21:35:00.000-05:00

I've been stressed, exams are approaching far too quickly for their own good, and I am tired. I should be working on my Japanese final project presentation, but I'm just not ready. It'll happen in due time and before the due date. I know it will. For now I'm just breathing.

Anyway, when I get stressed, I tend to dream alot more, and with a lot more vivid dreams.

Last night's dream included my parents inviting some people to the Opera my brother was playing in, but the invitees had to come up from Texas or some far southern location, a portion of the dream was of them speeding down the highway to arrive to the show on time. None of this included me, for I was on the edge of a narrow cliff in a river valley looking down upon the still, black waters of the river. On the ledge with me were three small children, the oldest no more than 10. Of these children I only knew one, that being Brayden, a child I know in reality. Who knows where the rest of these children came from.

The four of us stood in our swimming gear on the cliff ledge. I was the caretaker, and I knew my mom was further off in the distance with Delaney. We were planning on doing a little bit of diving, but I was having second thoughts. The water was black (but not in a filthy sense, it was just....black) and as a result I couldn't tell how deep it was. I could see rocks protruding from the water near the edge and feared we would injure ourselves jumping in. But before I could stop him Brayden leapt off the ledge and disappeared into the water.

He resurfaced by one of the rocks and yelled out, "OW!".

"Brayden! Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, I'm not bleeding." And with that he started swimming to shore. I did not trust him to be okay. Not bleeding is not the same as uninjured. I yelled for him not to move until I came down to check on him, but was already on shore and about to disappear into a cavern that lead back to the ledge. With another urgent yell, I get him to pay attention and not leave. I look into the water nervously. I'm alot bigger than a 7 yr old, and I didn't want to leap into shallow water. With a deep breath I take a running start and jump near the edge of the ledge as possible for maximum distance. I landed a lot further from shore than Brayden and came to be fully submerged in the deep midstream water. And here I got into trouble.

It occured to me just as I came to be fully submerged, the water is deeper farther from shore, but the current is faster too. I found myself caught within the current, fighting to stay in place and inable to surface. After a struggle, I surface, gasping and swim to Brayden where he clung to the very rock he landed by. The water was deep here too, but not so fast. I checked him over for any wounds.

"I didn't get hurt," he claimed, "I was jsut shocked when I hit the rock." An lo and behold, he was completely uninjured. He had broken the plastic on him fin where his heel had struck rock, but he was perfectly fine.

That's the part of the dream I remember most vividly. I cannot remember much of any sensation during the dream, but I do distinctly remember the feel of the current and the drag against my limbs that prevented me from swimming up and out of danger, pressure on all sides with more on one side pushing me with the current.

My dreams are a little too real sometimes.

You promise?

2007-12-02T00:55:00.000-05:00

This is a poetic form of a scene from one of my many stories. This one is actually a collaborative work with two friends, tentatively titled Unveiled, but desperately in need of a better name.

A young boy,
The prince,
Stood before the portal.
Enemies are fast approaching outside.
With his and held out to his childhood love
He cries out,
“Blue! Come with me!”
“I can’t,”
Said the girl,
A common girl.
She could not go
For the portal would only hold two
And the boy prince and his brother must go
The prince protested,
Blue smiled,
“You have to go.
Don't worry….I’ll be right behind you.”

“You promise?”

“I promise, I’m always right behind you.”

“I’ll wait for you on the other side!”
With that, he fled through the portal…

And the portal closed.

The boy’s memories are lost along the way,
He forgets what he’s waiting for.

Meanwhile the girl and the guard, her sister,
Have been left to die.
Oh how the flames did rise
On that little hut,
With the guard and little Blue inside.
The guard dies,
But Blue survives

Scared and alone.
Scarred and forgotten.

End of the Semester

2007-12-01T19:45:00.000-05:00

The end of the Fall Semester is fast approaching. To say I feel the beginnings of stress would be an understatement. There are way too many things I have to do before the end of the semester, this can't be good for my health. Presently, I have all the things I need to get done before the end of the semester written on some purple post-its Jen bought for me. The post-its are oddly fitting for the occasion; written in a darker purple font on the note is, "I can't have a nervous breakown...It's not covered by my health insurance."

Despite the severe stress I can see on the near horizon, I am not working. I'm actually chatting with friends I have not seen or spoken to in a long time. Thus I make myself happy. My happiness comes before school, duty and stress. Why should I get myself sick and miserable over something I don't really like or want to do? I'll write more later, I don't feel like blogging.

House Drama

2007-11-16T23:08:00.000-05:00

I have not written in quite some time, but at long last inspiration has struck again. Returning from the sitar and sarod concert in Finney, I stopped in the lounge to see what had been written in the house journal since my earlier entry this same day. People have stopped signing their names. I stopped too, no one else was signing, but I think I will begin to sign again.

In the newest entry a girl wrote about her feelings when stuck in conversations with those who talk too much, that go on and on and leave no chance for the listener to speak. That is often my position in conversations, unable to get a word in edgewise, especially here at Oberlin. I often don't speak at all at lunch. This girl was bothered by it. Directly below her entry another girl responded "Drama drama drama" and then she commented on people making drama where there was none.

I was seriously offended by this. How dare she? And neither signed, I don't know who among the people I live with is upset and feels like me, and who is a bitch. I responded, "That was mean! Some people are bothered by things that don't bother you at all." Don't cheapen the pain. That's one of my main issues with the term 'emo', it cheapens other people's suffering, for some, their genuine feelings are mocked. I'm not complaining about the world for lack of anything better to do! Maybe all I see are terrible things and awful people, and the names you make for people like me only prove me right!

I spoke with my room mate. Our house journal sure is angsty. I wondered, has our house always been angsty? Well, lo and behold, there on the shelf are all the previous house journals!! My room mate went upstairs to our room and I stayed behind to read.

The first thing I found was that this was not the first house journal of the year. The first had been stolen, this was the replacement. The beginning to the journal was filled with entries claiming happiness at having a journal again, sadness because they miss the old one, and insecurity: they had written personal things down, and someone just up and stole it... I saw ethical debates on white and black, and just as many complaints about having so much work and being worn out as our current journal. And I only saw two names...

More went on in this year for Baldwin, more that I think I had better leave private, just for us. It was a hard year, through hardship the Baldwin community grew closer, and someone lamented that is was a negative force that caused it. But, names. Consistently, only one or two wrote their names by their entries. Why?

I replaced the journal on the shelf and went up to my room. I spoke with my room mate about what went on in the past, then commented on the names. I said that I felt people should write their names by their entries. She disagreed.

But this is supposed to be a close knit community, shouldn't we know what each other think?

No. People are always angsty when they are young. What if they become politicians and someone connects her to what she said in her house journal in college?

So what? People change, will I be judged years from now on what I write in my journal now?

Our conversation ended. I began to write. I think that we should stamp our names by what we say. It's what we believe, right? We should stand by it! Not hide. I know somethings are personal, but really, if you're going to write in a public journal...

I just don't know. I realize that if I were to look back at my old diary, my old poems I would see a different person that I am today. Does that mean I don't want it connected to me? I do! I know I was dark, I was depressing, and I laugh now at my old angsty ways, but I would not disclaim them. I would say I have changed, but I would not deny my past self.

I am no longer my past self, but my past self is still me!

Broken-Tail-Squirrel

2007-10-08T22:52:00.000-04:00

There is a philosophy paper I should be writing write now, or even a japanese paper that needs to get done by Friday, but I've already written a third of the philosophy paper tonight and don't have mind enough to continue.

Instead, I want to write about my favorite squirrel. Simply because.

My favorite squirrel on all of campus is Broken-tail-squirrel. I met him last year, or rather I cam across him repeatedly as he schizophrenically did whatever it is squirrels do with their time midwinter with two feet of snow on the ground. He was scrawny, very thin. Thin enough that I wondered if he had enough fat to survive the rest of winter, and February here is no were close to the end of winter. We had flurries in April last year, and it took well over a month for the two feet of snow that fell on Valetine's day to dissipate. I saw Broken-tail-squirrel shortly after this large snow, he was digging about in the snow, and like his name implies, his tail was broken in two. That latter half swung back and forth as he hopped around. It seems to have snapped clearly, but remained attached so that the tail arched as usual up to the break, then the rest of it hung vertically and dragged on the ground.

I'd never seen such an injury in an animal before. I wondered if there was an open wound that might get infected, or if the bit of tail dragging behind him might impede his survival. He was so tiny, I was sure I would never see him again.

Yet the next day I saw him, as active as any of the other squirrels, his tail dragging behind him. When I saw him, which was at least three or four times a week, I would comment to whoever was with me at the time, "Oh look, its Broken-tail-squirrel." Around mid-March I stopped seeing him. Slightly disheartened I figured he had finally fallen ill, or starved or been killed.

It wasn't until after all the snow had melted in late April and the temperatures had finally begun to rise that I saw him again.

On South Campus, in the same general area where I used to come across Broken-tail-squirrel, a squirrel darted in front of me on the side walk and up a nearby tree. He stopped around my head's height on the trunk and observed the surroundings. I glanced at him, as is my habit of following the activities of the squirrels around me and giggling at their antics, and found that he had an abnormally short tail. It was only about half the length of the tails of its peers. I had noted that some squirrels did have very short tails, but there was something odd about this one. The tip didn't taper off as most squirrel tails do. It just stopped.

Not thinking any more of it, I continued about my day. I don't recall if it was before seeing this particular squirrel or shortly after, but my room mate and I came across a soggy piece of fur on the sidewalk on the way to lunch on day. Looking at it I commented that it looked like a squirrel tail. It was the same grey fur with white over fur that most squirrels of this area have, the exception being the large and somewhat creepy brown squirrels. The bit of flesh was stuck to the sidewalk and the ragged fur blew in the wind. My room mate said it was disgusting. It didnt particularly bother me.

That is until I thought of Broken-tail-squirrel! I thought, what if the broken half had fallen off? How many squirrels are missing large portions of their tails on this small campus? Not many! Broken-tail-squirrel must have still been around, and here was his broken tail!

When I next saw the peculiar squirrel with the abnormally short tail I observed the tail. It cut off abruptly with the long fur from earlier on in the tail hanging loose where there was nothing underneathe it. This was Broken-tail-squirrel! He had survived the winter, and though he still looked very small, he was healthy and vibrant.

When I returned to school in the fall I found him again, he is still around, though now his tail seems to have round out where fur has grown over what was likely bare skin before. I look out for him when I am outside, just to make sure my favorite hardy little squirrel is still around.

Other people's issues

2007-10-05T22:13:00.000-04:00

Lay your worries down on me,
My shoulders are strong,
and I have long since learned the art
of shrugging off the harm.
So lay you worries off on me
so I can shrug my shoulders clean,
Then when I take my leave of thee
We will both end up free.

As of late, I have noticed that I have become somewhat of the person to go to (even to those I hardly speak to) to spill all their problems. They bitch and complain and spill their worries, I nod sympathetically and offer what advice I can, tell them I understand. Then they say, "I'm sorry, I just laid all my worries on you/ just told you my life story," to which I reply, "That's okay, I'm a good listener, it doesn't bother me."

I wonder, have I always been this way?

At my boredest...

2007-10-04T23:55:00.000-04:00

It turns out I'm at my boredest in Philosophy....who'd have thought. I mean, its not like I've mentioned it at all before and complained about the class....yeah.

I tend to spill out poetry when bored and already two things have been created in philosphy, one complete and the other just a jumble of thought.

Completed:
Philosophy just might be
The most backward subject
I’ve studied.
Round and round
The argument goes
And still a conclusion
We forego.
This is this,
But this is not.
We are brains!
We are minds!
And while we argue
What are functional and natural kinds
I watch the bee fly
Into the ceiling light.

and the jumble of thoughts....

What if when I saw red, I saw what you saw when you saw green? and I always described it the same way as you because I was always taught to describe it that way too. So when saw a fire burning bright red and described it as such to you, you imagined it like you see red, but I saw and imagined it like you saw green! We would never know we saw different things!

Philosophy

2007-09-26T21:23:00.000-04:00

Philosophy sucks. Philosophers are idiots. They ask all the wrong questions and answer them all incorrectly. The subject as a whole seems totally useless since there is no practical application for their studies. I'm taking a class on Philosophy of the Mind and its place in nature. The class started with the professor claiming that philosophers wanted to know more about the mind so that they might come to know whether or not the mind can live on after the body dies.

We started with Cartesian Dualism. There were some obvious issues with Dualism, like the fact that mind and body are completely different substances, so people argue about how then can the mind control the body, or the body affect the mind. So then we look at Identity theory and Functionalism and blah blah blah. In Functionalism they basically argue that the mind and brain are a computer......wow. And computers can live on in the after life, I'm sure.

We continue on about what is the science of the mind? Is it psychology? Neuroscience? Either way, it seems that they constantly argue that the mind is somehow related to the brain and is just physical. The way I understand it, we could be robots!

I personally think psychologist are full of shit. If they cannot explain the crazy dreams I have, I think they are missing something then. And neuroscience? What about individuals? If things are all just brain functions, then so much for personality. It would be nicer to think we are more than just moving sacks of flesh.

I guess the base of my qualm with philosophy of the mind is how they went into this wondering if we can exist in some way after death, yet they toss aside any idea that recommends a description of the mind in which we are more than robots.

I am not a religious person. However, I know for a fact that I am more than my brain functions. I refuse to accept these idiotic simplifications of humanity and all life in general. If that is faith, then so be it.

Back from tutoring

2007-09-24T17:41:00.000-04:00

I just got back from tutoring at the nearby elementary school. I tutor two fourth grade girls in math. It went well, though one is just plain wild.

I'll be alone for alot of this evening, my roommate is meeting up with her boyfriend and his friends from a neighboring college to go see the Iron and Wine concert in Cleveland tonight. Therefore my currnet dilemna is whether or not I want to go eat dinner in the dining hall or save my meal for later in the week and just eat something else tonight. I am rather feeling like cooked food (however bad it might be ) over microwave mac and cheese rigt now.

Outside, two people just walked by. I couldn't hear them. You would think I shouldnt be able to hear them, however, in the evenings there is often some loud mouth talking that I can hear clearly despite them being three stories below me.

I just noticed there is a peculiar fruit haning from the tree just outside my window. They look somewhat like small bananas, but light brown in color. I would say they are seed pods, but they look so big to be so.

We're having a bit of a drought here. All of the students couldn't be happier about it, cause who wants rain when they can be plyin ultimate frisbee or study outside rather than in? I, being the lover of late Autumn and Winter that I am, am wishing for rain and a significant drop in the daily temperature. I need cool temperatures to be comfortable. I need cool temperatures to sleep well. Currently I havent been sleeping too well because it is too warm at night. The temperatures are only just beginnging to cool enough at night that I actually turn off the fan by the window, though this is mostly out of pity for my skinny room mate who doesnt have enough fat on her body to preserve sufficient body heat to survive the winter without praying for spring after the first chill. I, on the other hand, anxiously await the first snow.

I've always loved something about winter. I love the pristine snow covered environment after the first big blizzard, I love seeing my breathe when I exhale, I love having a reason to snuggle into the deepest depths of my blanket. The first day of Autumn has passed, yesterday was it? Now I just need to have patience for the temperature to drop and the first frozen precipitation to fall, hiding the hideous filth with which we cover everything so for a moment before we clear th roads and salkt the sidewalks, everything is clean.... and everything is beautiful.

Finally,

2007-09-23T23:51:00.001-04:00

Okay, I have finally finished my Japanese homework, there was more than I thought there was. The last thing I needed to do was fill out a worksheet about the reading we had been doing. The last question asked us to translate the last four lines from Souseki's "夢十夜：第一夜", or " Ten Nights of Dreams: the First Night", or something like that.

The whole story is about a woman dieing an a man coming to terms with it. When the woman dies she tells the man, "Wait for me by my grave for one hundred years, then I will come to you". At the end of the story, the man has been sitting on a rock by the woman's grave for one hundred years, but she has yet to come. The final line is along the lines of, " At that moment he felt (thought?), 'One hundred years have passed'". And that's it, the story ends. Its rather sad, he waits all those years so that he may see the woman again, but she doesn't come.

Such a depressing dream... I have my share of those. I'll share them with you at a later time, but now seems like a good a time as any to hit the hay. Good night.

Boredom: the first day

2007-09-23T19:13:00.000-04:00

This isn't really the first day of anything, unless you count the first day of this blog. I was just reading my past post in my Japanese blog and noted that I had no comments whatsoever. I have many friends taking Japanese, however they are all too lazy to take the time to read my journal in another language. So on a whim I started a second blog, this time is English which will probably closely mirror my Japanese blog, except in a language more easily read by my peers. I'll have to put this down for a little while, I kind of still have Japanese homework to do before I can goof off like this. Until then...また後でね？