Diu

I'm in the basement of H.G. Wells library
(or is it H.B.?)
waiting for my teacher to show up
so I can take an exam,
the last and Final exam of this semester.
On the white-painted cement brick wall
is a poster for a movie,
Hustle & Flow
in a thin black frame
with the exact words
"Everybody gotta have a dream."
The poster is tacky,
with airbrushed black people,
fake eyelashes and silver teeth,
but we must all have a dream.
This semester was a dream,
and I flew past it,
the background repeating and repeating,
as I felt stationary.
The noises, people, glowing yellow lights, and dotted flat grey carpet
were all the same as they always are,
but in my mind in this dream
all that disappeared and left me alone,
translating sentences.
In the sentences I found
that our language has grown to a monstrous size,
but it doesn't make us more precise.
Our brains are more cluttered with distractions from the common associations we would be able to make.
Our dreams might be more cluttered, too.
But, in nature, they are all the same as they were
a long time ago.
As they will be diu,
for a long time.

ctrlaltdel

Read the whole thing. I promise, it's really amusing at the end.



The goal to the Density of Pennies lab experiment was to find the density of groups of pennies, sorted by year. With the densities of pennies, the goal was then to find the changes in the metals that the pennies were made up of over time, and to ultimately find the year that the pennies changed from a structure of mostly the element copper to a structure containing another, unknown metal.
For the procedure, the pennies were weighed, and then their volumes were measured using 50 milliliter graduated cylinders. The densities were then calculated in groups in a chart. For accuracy, a collaborative chart of all densities calculated was then created, and the mean of all densities was found. Then each density was subtracted from the mean to find how far it was from the average. For precision, the standard deviation of the collaborated densities could have been found. Finally, since the degrees of both accuracy and precision were known, the uncertainty associated with the glassware and scales was then known. Therefore, more precise hypothesis could be made as to what the true value of the pennies’ volumes and masses would need to be in order to satisfy the requirements that the pennies changed in elemental composition between the years 1980-1984 and that the pennies were composed of 2.5% Copper and of 97.5% another, unknown metal. This set of years was known because all measurements of the pennies’ densities and masses showed similar fluctuation in that time frame: an average of 1.4 grams per milliliter, according to the average of two trials. Finally the equation (97.5%)x + (.2235)=y was used, where densities for the most likely metals, Tin and Zinc, were x, and y was the density of a penny in the case of the metal’s density substituted for the x variable. Using the given equation, Tin had the density closest to the required density.
However, according to the U.S. Mint, Zinc was the metal that replaced Copper as the most abundant metal in the penny (Mint). The original hypothesis was proven wrong, and so the entire experiment underwent a review process in order to more accurately determine the composition of the penny in a future experiment. The following conclusions were made in the process of review. First, more accurate instruments for measuring volumes of pennies would be used. Secondly, the number of pennies would be increased and decreased to find the number that best represented each time frame. Then the experiment could be done more accurately.
The goal of this experiment, in conclusion, was to determine the unknown metal in pennies and when the pennies changed in composition from mostly Copper to mostly the unknown metal. However, the faulty weighing and measuring procedures for the experiment were too imprecise and inaccurate for a knowledgeable conclusion to be reached. Therefore, the experiment was a failure.

second declension masculine

us o um i o e us o um i o e us o um i o e us o um i o e us o um i o e i is os orum is i i is os orum is i i is os orum is i i is os orum is i us o um i o e i is os orum is i os o um i o e

n d ac g abl v
us o um i o e
never date a generous able vaccume
us o um i o e
nominative dative accusative genitive ablative vocative
us o um i o e
us o um i o e
us o um i o e
i is os orum is i
n d a g a v
n d a g a v
i is os orum is i
nom never i us the
dat date is o to for ind object
acc a um orum the dir object
gen generous orum i of
abl able o is w/preposition by with from
voc vaccume i e

us o um i o e
i is os orum is i
us o um i o e
i is os orum is i
us singular o singular um singular i singular o singular e singular
i plural is plural os plural orum plural is plural i plural

Organic

Nihil, nothing, none.
Panthae, everything, everyone.
Neither is set in stone,
in its effect;
often,
choosers choose in a
box-like way,
left in their boxes, they beg.
Reminiscence,
memories are fragments;
actions incomplete,
no growing, no learning:
repeat, repeat, repeat.
Over & Over
first time: burning shards of ice
tearing through the rebelling
mind.
second: flounder-ing around,
the Fish seems to be choking
(she doesn’t drown).
third-
ride so hard up the steep trail,
but the steeple on the corner
seems stagnantly to prevail.
“No Worries,”
Four, breathe steadily, concentrate.
“So easy?”
So easy.

Go deep into the murky waters.
Sink, breathing steadily,
concentrating
encompass
your Self; submerged in
the Nihil, none,
with spread arms,
ready for Everything.
Dive in,
soaring like a screw,
t h r o u g h
guppies, shining silvery fishes, patches
of speckled, sparkling mystery,
bubbles of bioluminescence
moving Spirits vibrating the
Pond,
Panthae, It is one with
Becoming-ness of Everything.
One with our choices.
Each action forms its
magnetic w/hole.

We’re like clouds
being pushed by the
wind.
“Are we puppets on strings?”
We’re of the same essence,
materials as they.
We
Were born here
Will die here.
Our bodies, comprised of 2/3 water
Will
precipitate,
evapotranspirate;
Will
become clouds.
ARE WE MORE
IMPORTANT
THAN THEM
???
No.
So the question is
:if we aren’t more important than them:
Do we have more
choice-option-patterns
???
Is our path more divine, more readily able to be acted upon for changing?
What I mean to say is
I feel one with Everything.

I am Everything.

restlessness

I
just don't
want to try
to have hope
try
to be happy-complacent?-
try
to understand anymore.
Because the restlessness
(Anxiety Boredom Tedium)
come when trying subsides-
read: they could not exist w/o trying in the first place.
Calm before storm.
Why not just dive in face first
ride into the night
thunderstorm
and face the blackness that
is in the tunnell.
Or else I might not
really be able to appreciate
the sunshine on my shoulders.
Light at end of tunnell.
The restlessness comes from
a feeling of obligation that I
draw out of myself by
expecting of myself
the hope, happiness, understanding
that I am trying
for.
When I sit down and feel obligated
(by myself)
to make something amazing,
the restlessness blankets
me and there is no possible
way
that anything beautiful
will ever make it out
Like a fire being suffocated,
these expectations
kill the beauty the gems
in the mine that I [could be, am trying
to shine.]
All of My Responsibilities
only exist
(Press down so hard on my chest on
my heart so hard)
because I am punishing
myself
for existing in the first place.
I "have to" because I exist and
I prevaricate really living within my existence
BECAUSE I "HAVE TO"...

Thoughts in Summer

Fragments:

1.

The potential energy.

Potential to move seas,

by wind

with driftwood.

You have the potential

to create

a universe

of ideas with nothing at hand

but your own two hands

and anythingness, nothingness.

~

Back then, when the grey vibrating,

we lived in for hours

fried our heads

melted our kidneys

the One Time,

I knew.

I know now

more intensely

more completely.

When the masks fall off

insecurity is lost,

it's almost time now.

You'll move oceans.

~

The same.

I can write poems for you and

know just know that I"d be

saying the same things to me.

Not deluded.

2.

Gems in your eyes.

If I could explore the hidden jungle

between icy thighs,

Alaska womyn in knotted

ropes & brick-a-brack,

she encapsules me in a

steaming smoke stack.

But if I go there,

what will the workers say if I want to return

to this circus parade.

We told you so.

I'd have to prove them wrong,

or my ego would dissolve,

but what would that solve?

3.

Slender, with eyes like mine.

It isn't time,

Hoola-Hoola

long dizzy shouts

black, inconspicuous.

Do we surround ourselves

with the things we hate,

or do the things we hate find us

& surround us?

or is it that they're

everywhere

at that is why we hate them?

Incessant moaning of a bored child.

The rattle of mufflerless cars.

Dejected plastic bottles,

cracked, disposable.

It's only when I learn to accept

their existence at all that

I'll be free from the vices,

free from the annoyance,

fast pulse.

~~~~~~

Fullness:

The answer to conquering fear of rejection is the acceptance of one's Selves.

When I become afraid of drawing off of the edges of the pages and when the birds whistle

people rustling

nernernerherner

and car doors slamming

slam!

the engine in the tire's squealing

the crow is calling calling calling.

A raven who I've quoted,

whispering the car whispers by

And the FBI

(watches whistling by).

Two bikes on Top.

I get AFRAID OF

driving off of

the pages into

MADNESS

insects

singing

tweeting.

The bugs inside us reply,

"to smoke ciiiiigaretteees,

(yes) (cigarettes)."

Thirsty in my humble heart.

The cat, Sylvia, gently stepping

by so as not to harm the creatures

underfoot.

Trying like hell to step

so lightly so gently as her [elegance]

but screaming at the cars driving by [arrogance].

And my hand squirms at the edge of the page,

so fear-full that it is going to fall off.

Protesting, making me write big as a goon.

~

The feeling that you got

grandmothers,

mothers...

I am getting now

from cats

a garden

that man-child.

"Mother"hood, however

does not conflict with education

travel

experience

personal growth

personal empowerment

self realization

self actualization

"soul searching"

(in my world).

THINK-WRITE-READ-THINK.

The River of Knowledge

continues with consideration.

With awareness of self and surroundings,

I can finally understand what a moment is.

I am flowing through the moment like a leaf

flows through space.

(gangster-sport-utility-vehicle)

Just one leaf-fractal on a tree

They tried to hide from me.

Just one leaf-fractal

am I in nothingness.

Nothingness [excluding the duality of self and surroundings

which I was aware of] existed.

Wailing Siren at the bottom of the page

is a distraction

(it's definitely a moped) is too

The Sound of Cicadas (trademark) is too.

And (m)(m) is too.

~~

Acceptance will mend most any hatred, I am convinced. Acceptance without loss of skepticism.

Scarcity

The grasses and soil

are sunburnt and dehydrated,

like this crunchy Nest on my head,

once saturated

with scented oils and perfumes,

double-knotted

with sprays of plumes.

Malnourished, the rivers have

dried to dirt.

Screaming, yet inert,

they're begging for reprieve

from the lawnmower seive--

It'll cut them off, bag them up,

vacuum package their meager--what?

-Simultaneously-

the land-scaping company

demands that -serendepity-

be our goal this fiscal quarter.

We're ground to powder in the mortar.

We snort mortality

off this Mirrored Reality.

Taken back and back again,

I can't help but procrastinate

in choosing who I wish to be

from being neither here, nor me.

Just like the clouds deny us rain:

repitition without results,

and dreadlocks are my Mane.

They're holding It by the nape of Its neck,

refusing Its escape:

from the cave nor off the deck,

"This ship stops here now,

it's the end of the line,

We'll pull this ship over,

and take your last Dime."

Your last Burning Dime!

And from epidemic apportionment--

he'll ration your time,

keep you luke-warm, in fermaldehyde,

swept up, off the cement,

He'll cut you off and strap you down,

and vacuum package you, Howling Hound.

Beware!

Howling is futile,

as you'd not be a man--

as men can not howl--

they're preserved and canned.

Crunch

The first few days here were really depressing. I had expectations of people. I had preconceived ideas in my head about what my "friends" here were doing and becoming, probably because I've watched myself change over the past months and I thought the changes they were undergoing would parellel my own. But sadly enough, I forgot one factor: Fort Wayne is a black hole. Not that it's an excuse for the stagnation and pretensiousness that all of these people have let themselves fall into. Drug addiction, lack of motivation... not that I should have expected them to be different. I could see it coming all along, and I avoided coming here for months because of it. I think next time, I'll just come to see my mom and forget those people that I once called "friends". It just doesn't seem to be worth it anymore. Ugh. But the bright side is that I have the rest of the summer to do what I want to do. I made a list the other day, which I'll continue adding to:

-sew a pouch for the stones and shells I've collected
-start a rough outline and sketches for my homocentrism project
-finish the last picture in my sketchbook
-finish this picture on watercolor paper that I started
-start learning how to identify birds and trees
-finish The Wild Trees
-read The Third Chimpanzee
-volunteer somewhere in B-town to plant trees
-Lothlorian in a few weeks
-go somewhere random on the train or Greyhound

And I keep thinking about this film, and dreaming up new ideas that I want to learn about before the Big Crunch.

-The core of mans' spirit comes from new experiences.
-Rather than love, than money, than faith, than fame, than fairness… give me truth.

Edit: Maybe I should not have used the wording "all of these people" but, instead, should have said, "Some of these people." Sorry for any annoyance/confusion/sadness that may have caused you (Carl).

tsunamis and earthquakes

vomit.Reply to allForwardReply by chatFilter messages like thisPrintAdd to Contacts listDelete this messageReport phishingReport not phishingShow originalShow in fixed width fontShow in variable width fontMessage text garbled?Why is this spam/nonspam?ME to Matt show details 9:43 AM (5 minutes ago) Reply
Hey there... I have some time, so I thought I'd write you to let you know what is going on with me. I was really, really fucking sick last week. Like, I thought I was dying. Seriously. I'm worried that there might be something wrong with me health wise, because for the past year I have had some of the strangest exhaustion and these really wierd recurring liver pains. And then, the other day, it seemed like a cloud just moved in and right now I am intensely depressed. I don't really know how to explain it. I thought about suicide a few days ago, not in a "waah, I'm just going to kill myself" sort of way, but in a logical way, like, just being really honest with myself about the whole world situation that currently exists. It just seems pretty futile to keep flailing around trying to battle the world, humanity, and the man all at once. I'm not getting anywhere, and honestly, I don't know how much longer I can deal with the knowledge that I have gained in the past 6 months. You know, about how homocentrism (which is, human-centered lifestyles, ideals, and thoughts) is pretty much inevitably going to destroy everything. I don't know how much longer I can sit around and watch all of my friends breed and waste space, with no real intention of doing anything other than that. I don't know if I can continue procrastinating on realizing that my entire family is brainwashed and I feel like I am the only person left in existence that is really pursuing knowledge. I don't know how much longer. I've never really valued human existence or my own existence that much; even when I was a kid, suicide was at the back of my mind at all times. I'm not trying to throw a pity party here or anything, because I don't think it is a pity. I sort of wish that everyone would just forget my existence so that it could end, because dealing with this entire burden is really starting to weigh on me. If only an asteroid would just hit this sick sorry world and put humanity out of its misery and let the rest regenerate itself back to homeostasis. That's about it. That is what is going on with me. Just 3 days left until school is over and I am searching for some kind of way to motivate myself to finish it. As far as that goes also, what the fuck else is there to do? Sit around and smoke pot all day and expect the rest of the world to pick up the slack or go and have a mess of kids. Fuck that. I don't even know why I am writing this to you, so I'll just go now. Hope you're doing well. Keep on keepin on.

Water Brothers

We are Lions,
warm and purring in our Cave.
Fur and sandpaper tongues
in that place where we don't have to be people...
We are sticky, hot sweating,
melting together
Condensation from our heat making the Walls
of our Cave transpire.
We're in the place where no being
expects anything.

We're burning stars
that the Paw of God presses upon.
We're stardust,
fairydust,
Blackhole.
Blacking out all of the
war, power, jesus, money.
We're Blackbirds and a humming for honey.
We're six feet under the ground
buried deep in a place without sound,
Deep in the roots
Safely together.
In our Caccoon
You and Me, we're Bats
on the Ceiling of a spinning, thrusting flower petal.
Not dizzy and sick,
but dynamic and static,
drifting in Sunlight
bathing in a (Death) Sea of Halite.
In that Other Place,
just beyond Space,
in our Dreams...
we are Coffee at early hours,
electric, pulsing theta brain wave
we Grok in Fullness all of the Cave,
and the crystalline water flowing
through a Nave.

Back when we tra-veil through Time
to the Tree Grove,
we sought Shelter in a Cove
and there we were suspended
paralyzed
quietly
ceasing to Exist.
No longer captive
held in these bodies to
rot and die.
We are forever!
Looking through the Sky.
Forever winding double Helix
-entwined on its slide-
Capturing zeal
Capturing the elusive Felix,
twins of the paradise Fetus.
No longer mammals
and not primates;
Nonetheless, Dragons and Dinosaurs,
seagulls sedated, happily wandering.
And that feeling, post-Orgasmic,
(on the bottom of the inside)
of a Cervix.

bicycle

Today, Dan had to go pick up his new bicycle baskets and get them installed, and I went along and took my Specialized Expedition. I had the intention of trading it in for something a little more ride-able, a little more efficient, and a little more comfortable for commuting (as opposed to the granny ride-in-the-park type of comfort that I had with Lady Gray). I didn't think they would have anything for me, and if they did, I thought it would be out of my price range, because I'm trying to hoard money so that it'll get me through July. But I tried out a few bicycles anyway, and one ended up working out: an older model, scratched up Trek 330 with gear shifters on the body and even a little "flick stand". They were sort of hesitant at first, but they just traded it to me for the Expedition. They probably got the long end of the stick, but hell, that bike was such an energy hog that I couldn't go more than a mile without wanting to die, and sitting upright on it really put stress on my tailbone. From what I've read online about this model, it's a late '80s touring bike. It looks like this picture only it's red, it has different handle bars, and the paint is peeling off. So, in 2 weeks, after we get back from Seattle and the weekend before school is out, Charlie at the Bicycle Hospital will have changed the tires, put a new seat on, and made the necessary adjustments and I'll have a new (to me) bicycle to take on adventures this summer.

"love life"?

In my mind, I've been debating with myself about this question: What is this ideal of "loving life"?
I use the word ideal deliberately, because I'm seeing that it's almost impossible to love life. Saying the phrase only implies that it is something that the sayer isn't doing.

Do people who love life live in love with existence?
Life and existence differ because life consists of Earthly matters, as far as those who have determined (to our knowledge) what life entails know. Anything that is classified as "living" must reproduce; change, grow, or adapt; and metabolize nutrition. Most living things have mechanisms that they use to maintain homeostasis within their bodies. Is it possible to feel love for these processes?
-Feeling love is irrelevant when the necessity of life is realized.
-If the necessity of life isn't realized, then either death or the absense of life must occur.
Loving life is just an ideal, yes. But it's one that is so unnecessary that, in some ways, it defeats the purpose of the act of living. Feeling compassion and warmth towards necessary processes seems frivolous. People are attached not to life, but to events that happen which could not take place had they not been living. These events are created by humans, they're emotional, psychological, and physical structures. They are occurences people participate in, often to no end and for no purpose other than the act of doing them.
So I suppose that when people talk about loving life, they must be referring to loving the beginning process ("God") that made possible reproduction, adaptation, and metabolism and thus the activities they participate in. People only talk of loving the occurences, not the requirements of life.
Is love a state of being or an act? Could people act with love toward or upon these occurences? Can you execute a state of being toward or upon the occurences? For something to be a state-of-being it only has to exist. For something to exist, in an empirical sense, it only has to have matter. That's a given. So for love-the-state-of-being to exist, it would have to have matter. How could this state of being materialize? The occurences in themselves are abstract also- they have no matter. They are invisible and they only are whatever the humanoids make them out to be. They happen, so does that mean they are?

The side of my head that believes both love and life are trivial is winning. They're pretty much meaningless in any practical sense.

Turkey Vulture

I saw two of these http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Turkey_Vulture today and it really disturbed me because I'm used to only canadian geese and ducks at the pond. They were eating some dead fish...I wasn't even aware that there were fish in that drainage hole.

bound

These are the books I have out of the library and am reading, have read, or am using for my term paper about human Extinction.


The end of the world : the science and ethics of human extinction
Leslie, John, 1940-
5/19/2008,23:59 --> -->
Human impact on the earth
Meyer, William B.
5/19/2008,23:59 --> -->
Gaia's revenge : climate change and humanity's loss
Liotta, P. H.
5/19/2008,23:59 --> -->
The global carbon cycle : integrating humans, climate, and the natural world
Field, Christopher B.
5/19/2008,23:59 --> -->
An ontology of trash : the disposable and its problematic nature
Kennedy, Greg, 1975-
5/19/2008,23:59 --> -->
Ignoring the apocalypse : why planning to prevent environmental catastrophe goes astray
Davis, David Howard.
5/19/2008,23:59 --> -->
Critical condition : human health and the environment
Chivian, Eric.
5/19/2008,23:59 --> -->
The three stigmata of Palmer Eldritch
Dick, Philip K.
5/19/2008,23:59 --> -->
The man in the high castle
Dick, Philip K.
5/19/2008,23:59 --> -->
We can remember it for you wholesale and other classic stories
Dick, Philip K.
5/19/2008,23:59 --> -->
An essay on the principle of population; and, A summary view of the principle of population
Malthus, T. R. (Thomas Robert), 1766-1834.
5/19/2008,23:59 --> -->
Counter-clock world
Dick, Philip K.
5/19/2008,23:59 --> -->
FutureNatural : nature, science, culture
Robertson, George, 1950-
5/19/2008,23:59 --> -->
Blue covenant : the global water crisis and the coming battle for the right to water
Barlow, Maude.
5/19/2008,23:59 --> -->
When the rivers run dry : what happens when our water runs out?
Pearce, Fred.
5/19/2008,23:59 --> -->
From Malthus to the Club of Rome and back : problems of limits to growth, population control, and migrations
Neurath, Paul.
5/19/2008,23:59 --> -->
Population growth, resource consumption, and the environment : seeking a common vision for a troubled world
Searle, D. Richard (Donald Richard), 1951-
5/19/2008,23:59 --> -->
The people problem; what you should know about growing population and vanishing resources
Fraser, Dean.
5/19/2008,23:59 --> -->

homocentrism vs. ecocentrism

Arguments for an ecocentric attitude:

Premise: Humanism=homocentrism. Humanism is almost never ecocentrism. There are exceptions, but I want to keep this as simple as possible.
Premise: Also, many of these arguments are anthropocentric in nature, but this is really meant to be debated with a homocentric thinker (e.g. almost every human alive.)

• Nature for the sake of itself- it's unnecessary for nature's existence and well-being to justify itself to humans.

• Humans depend on ecosystems for their livelihood, regardless of technology.

• Humans depend on nature for happiness (just think of "life" without trees, water, etc.)

• Nature is underrepresented.

• Nature supports all biomes, ecosystems, species, organisms- they have a right to live.

How do we know?

Many were here long before the homo sapien evolved.

• As we've seen, destruction of Earth's processes is often the direct cause of natural "disasters".

• A majority vote. There are more of them (as in- species that are not human) than there are of us. If they could speak, not that they need to, they would probably vote for a world that is safe for them to live in.

~*~

• What if entire races of people went extinct every hour?

Not that many world cultures haven't gone extinct. Languages die all the time. People are so ready and willing to hop on the boat to help other people but rarely to help other species, and even less frequenly will they donate their resources to preventing the destruction of major systems. Why? The reason can't be selfish, because it's blatantly obvious, even in our capitalist societies, that we can not exist without natural spaces and organisms.

People feel so much compassion and empathy for the starving children in Ethiopia, so much that they think sending them food or trying to help them to industrialize will actually...in a long term sense... contribute to their well-being. From an ecocentric point of view, the thing to do is to donate birth control and to provide sexual education.

Strongly Agree (1), Agree (2), Disagree (3), Strongly Disagree (4)

this is a short one I wrote on the bus the other day. I still haven't written about the amazing time Dan and I had in the forest, but...maybe later.



Wal Mart smiles glaring through concrete block,
Impervious surfaces reject the crimson
teardrops of Old Growth Treemen
and la victime lies that she's a freeman
who just suddenly realized "God's Divine Plan".

God's flesh is wrapped around spongeform steaks
packaged air-tight with double sided tape.

Do you know why the zooed owl hoos?
He's calm and relentless and a little out of tune,
because they're feeding him leftovers and they've clipped his wings..............

[to be continued if I even think about it ever again]

I also have to upload this doodle onto LJ because Lisa Li (lesbian, boy-like, very yellow Asian girl in my womens studies class that I have a mild crush on) said she liked it. Hmmmmm.
Seriously now, could they (spea) bore me any more than this???

could, but won't

...won't ramble on incessantly about how stressed/lethargic/nostalgic/gray I am. I won't even mention how on-the-fence/semi-isolated/disappointed/"wish"-ful (if you get my drift) everything has been since the last time I wrote. I won't list interrogations that I've made to myself about whether it is January or whether it is life. There'll be no dull, not-as-good-as, poetry being posted. And most importantly, I will not get into how disgusted I am with mankind right now.

We'll get there with our wings.

trav'lin'

All of the places we could go for Spring Break:

Americas
Redwood Forest
Boston, Mass.
Big Sur
Hawaii
Guatemala
Chile
Venezuela
Europe
Amsterdam, Holland
Germany
Paris, France
Italy
Austria
Sweden
Ireland
Africa
Egypt
South Africa
Asia
Vietnam
Thailand
Australia
New Zealand

p.s. If I discover all of these places in my lifetime (with the addition of some colder places: Russia, Antarctica, Iceland, Greenland) then... well... You know what happens.

First Snow

So, even though Yule isn't here yet- today is winter. I looked out the window this morning and was amazed by the many inches of snow that had piled up over night... and just yesterday I thought about how Indy looks much better with the dead trees than it looked when they were green. I am head over heels in love with this natural cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. Seeing the cycles right before my eyes, month after month, gives me a feeling of stability in a world where everything seems so chaotic...unplanned...sudden. It reminds me that everything goes through the cycle, over and over again; including humanity. The fear and paranoia of what is to come-- whether I call it the apocalypse, Global Warming, a conspiracy, the War on [insert something to be afraid of], or even whether I choose not to see it--is erased by the blankness of the snow. The snow is so clean, pure, and dead that it seems like the most natural thing to happen since last spring when the trees budded.
Also, it reminds me of a time when I wasn't so taken my worldly issues. When a 2-hour delay was much more promising, because I spent my time in activities that didn't seem so important. They didn't have the affect on my life that every single day does now, or so I thought. Since school started, everything has just mattered a lot more than it ever did back then. Treading through the snow with Thomas or Sarah T., for no real purpose other than maybe to go to South Gate to steal stickers, or to go to Caleb's because it was the only thing to do. Bills and paychecks and financial aid and finals and George Bush didn't exist then, and so the stress of thinking about them and jumping through their hoops didn't either.

Winter means solace for my worried mind.

Trumpets

You were Right
by my side
with your wings spread
and your grin-faced Head!
The tiniest gray imperfections wrinkle through my belly.
Thin hairs are plucked,
dipped in ink,
swirled on a clean page,
creating the dots that'll be used for connecting
at a later date.
I have something to say, in quotations.

The Prophecy has come, Dear You!

I wonder sometimes
if the sounds
I think are figments of my imagination
are your sparkling diamonds,
cutting close to the bone;
so close, carved out of Gold.

Prophecy found the matter of this deja-vou:

Repunzel, I am, with a strawberry Blond
lock for you to caterpillar up.
Up: if you ever find me clenching my heart
or attacking anemia, panicking...
Love, We
could
dance!
in the streets of Paradise,
breathing steadily
rhythmically two-stepping, to our own way(out
of this two dimensional scene)ward lyric.

G: 24 8 2007, T: 30 8 2007

Grass is Greener Complex

If I were to tell you, Dear

that the Grass is greener

right here,

Would you marry me

to a Riddle or a Maxim

that I might hold, Dear?

A Deer and A Doe

are in the middle of a Prarie,

with a hammer and the Nazarene

so is their Grass green?

A merman stubs his toe

on the Glass of broken wine-glasses,

sucking at the sore scene

is his Grass green?

"I bought a handsom bottle of breakfast wine from the corner store,"

and "Tip," says god

the Wine is gone--

cradled in the Hands of Raw

Picked and Peddled his way

to Jaru-Salem, Mass.

There He stood before me in

line,

Small talk about the Rainy Day.

The last question I have for you, Lord Gray,

Is your grass green beneath the earth in the Rain?

A Timeline of Reluctance

Her leaves stare through the window of the classroom, like perverts peeking on me in the shower:
So curious of what time it is.
Nestled in her rather stiff and uninviting crevice,
I love this lady, Tree!
Does she love me?
I don't think so, afterall I am like them
I shit, take, and pillage her Dear Soul
with carcinogens and a Cancerous
Will not to feel guilt.

She is so cool
solitary
anorexic, but I- the opposite-
(Am I her Yin?) No.
Displeased with this snug societal gluttony,
I wish I could just stand and shake my fist!
or yet
wish things were different
here in her Home.

It isn't difficult to see my part
in her disfunctional family.
Some accusatory daughter,
"What Time did you get Home last night?"

As I slept warm in my bed.

Golden Age

• So right now, I'm in Indy. I did my first college homework today, my first college art class yesterday (Beginning Ceramics, wheel throwing) and almost everything has gone according to plan thus far. I'm not really sure what all of the fuss is with picking schools. It took me 2 years to settle for a state school, and I am very much in doubt that it is a lesser quality education than (place big city art institution here). All of my teachers have Ph.D's and are very obscure. Then again, I'm taking some honors classes.
• I have an idea and I think I'll run with it. I think I'll stay here for 2 years and then transfer to Humboldt State University, after taking 3 semesters of some foreign language, because that's what they require.
• Why am I wasting my time on this computer?
• In the class next to this computer, the professor is talking about how the military can not take the huge risk of promoting/accepting homosexuality, and it is sort of amusing. He is so passionate and determined to get this point across.
• A few weeks ago, I don't remember what it was, but something sparked those old memories of mine, and I've been quite disturbed about Everything since then. I'm starting to notice the consistency in the times of day that I feel most insecure about life, and most regretful of things that I have done and not done. This pain in my heart from them will go away, as the times of day that those old *sentiments come back are waning in number.
• ...not that I should have even written something that personal in here.
• So gratifying it is to work very hard at something [art] and to see it evolving itself, after time, without really having to brainstorm or use one's conscious mind to think about what it is, or where you might go with it.
• *I think sentiments is the perfect word to describe Them.
• I still haven't finished Walden or any of the other books that I should be reading.

*I miss New England, and I still conjure up ways that I could go back. I think about it several times everyday, about just disappearing and going back to the city where I can feel the Gold everywhere. It's like I buried some sort of treasure there a billion years ago and the essence that is me is continually pulled to it. I'm beginning to wonder if it's just in my nature to wish that I could Time Travel. or to wish that I could be two (or twenty) places at once. or maybe to just run. Flee the scene of the crime. Am I a criminal?

• I vaguely remember there being a time when I could do those things. Whether it is still that Time; and if not, when/if it might be again, I don't know.

Seaside Heights, New Jersey

How I love you.

concord grapes

leaf wings fluttering through You,
Swimming through Them,
Shifting and Swaying Thousand Foot Tree
I'll climb to the top of you
and kiss you good-night
and it was a good night
You silenced the flesh searing
light.
If I were Henry David then I'd
build my cabin on the Wood

and I'd try to remember the good-days
mornings
when you gallavanted over the
Red Wood Forest
and into my Red Wooden spirit
--You carved it with the air, My Dear
and widdled away my fear--

If I were Mr. Thoreau,
or Silly Billy Burroughs
I would have said, "Make peace with your
helium-inhaling brothers,"
But I'm not and I didn't!
and the balloons (made them) convulse,
fall out of their oak-holes
Where the Owls paid them no attention

and six Clocks later, the gas guzzlers
smashed them with their black rubber hearts
No one rescued the Rangers,
and they were too busy
Rescuing the Endangered
to peir into the Looking Glass
to see Your blonde Cat Cross their Path,

so they catch koalas
--until the day the Ko-alah Supply runs out--
and save them in the drawer.

The Cat runs up the Tree,
Clock lives forever more
The Owls drink their tea.

" I too had woven a kind of basket of a delicate texture, but I had not made it worth any one's while to buy them. Yet not the less, in my case, did I think it worth my while to weave them, and instead of studying how to make it worth men's while to buy my baskets, I studied rather how to avoid the necessity of selling them. The life which men praise and regard as successful is but one kind. "

Walden, Henry David Thoreau

Lemonade

I really, truly hate them sometimes... destroying every little bit of peace that I try to create in this house, and I just exploded today. Gladly enough, Mom was around to see, and finally came to her wits and told them they have to move out. I'm so ready to live somewhere again where I'm not battling with everyone around me.

Existence, well what does it matter?

I exist on the best terms I can.

The past is now part of my future,

the present is well out of hand.

[Ian Curtis]

The cold has hindered me from riding my bicycle and getting out of the house lately, but I hear that it is supposed to clear up by tomorrow. I'm definitely ready for Spring to begin and to be happy again. It's sort of difficult when most of the people around you are self-centered battlers until the end. I'm thankful that I've had Matthew around through this shit, and the knowledge that Dan will be coming soon. I'd lose my head without them, I think.
Since I left Providence, most of my uncertainty about life has also left. I had this lurking feeling that I was not doing the right thing, that every step on every little crack was going to break my Mother's back. Always. Not any more. I am no longer so fearful about how I'm living my life; I'm free, and hopeful.
Behind every light; however, is a shadow to accompany it. My cousin, Alex, just passed away a few days ago. He's been sick for quite awhile and has had MS his entire life. I really hope that Death doesn't pass the Domino Effect on my family, like I've seen in so many others. I'm not afraid of dying myself. I'm not afraid of dealing with Death. I'm afraid of what it is going to do to my fragile family that is already in pieces, each and every one of us, from other Unspeakable Facts of Life.



All of the talking about food that Thom Cat and I did in P-rov has finally opened my eyes up to how much happiness I can bring somebody with just a little bit of time in the Kitchen. I'm definitely addicted to baking at this point, and I've been spending way too much time on the internet looking at recipes. I need to get a fucking cookbook. Whenever Danbaery comes to visit on Hitler's birthday, I'm going to cook until my eyes pop out, I really can't wait. He ate up all of the cookies I made for him for his birthday in about a day and a half. I don't know if I've ever boasted about anything before, but I'm going to keep working on these recipes until I have something to boast about.

• Speaking of Thom Cat-- I wanted so much to go to his house and bake bread, but like I said, the weather was ill-permitting. It would be so fun though. Baking parties are definitely the best idea that I've heard of in a long time. Also, I have a premonition (maybe it is just a hope) that there will be many, many campfires this summer in Sarah's back yard and our Spot in the woods near Superior Street.
  
• Speaking of Danbaery-- I can't say anything except thank You, thank You, thank You [to the Universe.]
  

I'm reading the Beautiful and Damned again, and I feel that this insert could accurately describe life right now

Silence crept down again over the wet country; the faint dripping resumed, and suddenly a great shower of drops tumbled upon Gloria stirring her out of the trance-like torpor which the passage of the train had wrought. She ran swiftly down a descending level to the bank and began climbing the iron stairway to the bridge, remembering that it was something she had always wanted to do, and that she would have the added excitement of traversing the yard-wide plank that ran beside the tracks over the river.
There! This was better. She was at the top now and could see the lands about her as successive sweeps of open country, cold under the moon, coarsely patched and seamed with thin rows and heavy clumps of trees. To her right, half a mile down the river, which trailed away behind the light like the shiny, slimy path of a snail, winked the scattered lights of Marietta. Not two hundred yards away at the end of the bridge squatted the station, marked by a sullen lantern. The oppression was lifted now—the tree-tops below her were rocking the young starlight to a haunted doze. She stretched out her arms with a gesture of freedom. This was what she had wanted, to stand alone where it was high and cool.

[F. Scott Fitzgerald]

conundrum

He's looking at me
eyes bluer than the skies, sunshine beams cutting through my fantasies
Baby Blue Eyes and California Golden Poppies,
woven floral decorations in the curtains
that I can't see,
I'm blind
And you're leading me through the masses.
Mosses
Inchworming over Our bodies,
Through Them and They're painting Red X's
on us,
Burning holes with their magnifying Eyes.
Nonetheless, His fish are dead
My chair is broken.
My cheek is Pressed against
the glass of His Dodecahedron.
We're trying to lookout,
but it is frosted over and we're fingerdrawing
Smiling faces.
Fingerpainting
red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet.
I just learned
how to tie my Shoes,
You don't remember teaching me do You?
Two rabbit ears and a loop
loop loop
loop looploop
Point A and He's looking at me
Eyes bluer than the sea, pool.
Than I can see.

He says he isn't Perfect,
but what is the difference
when you subtract Zero from One?

I still can't see
but I know he's looking at me.

Pay No Attention to the Man Behind the Curtain

Tomorrow at 3pm I am going to board the Greyhound, and after 3 layovers and 26 hours, I'll be back in Fort Wayne. Whenever I'm in Fort Wayne, I'm going to get a job and finish the application procedure for IPFW. I'll save money for a car, pay Thomas, and start my life.
I decided years ago that I was going to go into the field of Fine Art, and a few weeks ago Thomas listed all of the reasons I should go into Art History, and they all seem to be correct, so that is what I'm going to do. Since I dropped out of school senior year and went to San Francisco, I've been floating around looking for every possible option that wasn't Indiana or Fine Art. I never wanted to be "stuck" in Fort Wayne, like Sarah and Angie and all of my high school friends, but my perception of the situation has changed. I probably could have gone to some amazing school on the East or West Coast, but dropping out of school ruined those opportunities; it is only now that I have accepted this fact.
Coming to Providence got me away from most everything. I’ve been left with a lot of boredom, time to think about who I am and what I’m doing. I’ve said all of this before, but I was never forced myself to be optimistic enough to change the path that my life was on. A complete change of heart and mind was necessary, and I really do feel like a different person than when I left Indiana two months ago. I thought I was done riding the Train Wreck, but it still followed me. I’ve been around Dan enough for the past month to see how people of Integrity live their lives and I have to say that the feelings I had in Boston were enough to crush my Dreams. They are rebuilding and I’ll be stronger than ever.
Before I left, I read Bright Lights, Big City by Jay McInerney and I could definitely see the same defects in myself as in the main character’s ex-wife: Midwestern girl that knows so little about who she is that she loses herself in the glitz and glam of the City, after years of yearning to do the opposite in the same City. I could see them, but after all it is just bad fiction, so why acknowledge the fact that McInerney had my character down 20 years ago? This is the point when I’m going to step back and use my head. (No, I didn’t leave it in Michael’s pocket in BFE, Rhode Island a year ago.)

Addictions
I don’t know how or when, but I’ve decided that I’m going to quit smoking. Every time I open my pouch to roll a cigarette, I get a little bit more disgusted with myself. I can’t do anything without getting winded, I cough all of the time, and I am always cold. Not to mention: both of my Grandmothers are slowly dying from this (one with emphysema, the other with emphysema and lung Cancer) and, I might not want to live to one-hundred, but I’d at least like to have sixty comfortable years of life on Earth. I want to be able to ride my bike without huffing and puffing. I want my constant heart burn to go away. I don’t want to feel like every hour I’m gradually committing suicide and that my soul might possibly pay for Eternity for it. Addictions suck.

Boston
Boston last weekend was awesome. Dan and I rode the Bonanza out and wandered around on the Historical Path for awhile, visited Boston Common where there was a memorial to Robert Gould Shaw and the Mass. State House. We saw the graves of Paul Revere and Samuel Adams and a deeply depressing Holocaust Memorial. A giant clock, a million people and pigeons, dinner at Cheers, and the best pizza I’ve ever had. We took the Commuter Rail to Concord, Massachusetts and stopped in at a very quaint decor shop on Thoreau Street and asked for directions to Walden Pond. The 2-3 mile trek to the Pond (we underestimated how cold it would get) didn’t seem so bad, only took forty-five minutes or so, and was well worth it. I guess he really did live in a "Shanty", if the replica of it was similar to the original. The Pond itself was picturesque and frozen over, with a perfectly blue sky to go along. We got there around Dusk, and it seemed that nothing else existed anywhere on the earth. Right in front of the place we decided to sit, written in the snow was "I Love Jeff,"...odd...We froze our asses off of the trudge back to the yuppie town and plopped into the Starbucks (one of seven tallied), drank coffee, and defrosted for an hour, and back to Boston. Dan surprised me with a hotel room at a Hilton in some middle-of-nowhere town, where I got to sit in my first "hot tub" (not actually hot, just piss-warm) and we spent most of the next day at the Museum of Fine Arts (also my first museum [besides FWMOA]). The Italian Renaissance sculptures were amazing, the Monet was less than I expected, and there were too many other pieces to make a comment on every single one, but I will say: there were too many people. Back to Providence for beers and cheeseburgers at Trinity, and I couldn’t have been more satisfied with the whole experience–unless, perhaps, it was a few degrees warmer.

End of an Era

My era of unhealthy relationships is over, finally. I have never felt better and more optimistic about what life can be, about what I can make it, and who I can become. It is kind of disappointing that Providence didn't work out, but I guess that's life. I can stop running from it now. I've learned a lot about who I really am and about what matters.
Hello, I'm Jessica, it's nice to meet you. I am quite eccentric and a lot less normal (whatever that is) than I thought I was. Way too melodramatic, but I don't cave under pressure. Hand me anything to do and I can get it done, no matter how ridiculous it is. I have this amazing ability to adapt to anything in only a short amount of time.
My goals since senior year have been, at best, off-the-wall and way too idealistic, and I've realized that if I put more thought and planning into my life, it could be something interesting and amazing. Dropping out of school and going to California was the first attempt at ruining my life. Continuing in that insane relationship (up until yesterday) to end up 860 miles away from my family and my stability, after a year and a half of driving myself fucking crazy with failed plans and psychoanalysis, was the last straw. I always thought that, for life to be interesting, you had to be doing something extreme but that is just not the case.
I don't feel guilty this time. I'm nineteen and I did what I knew: I chased a guy around the country hoping that he would love me as much as I was obsessed with him. I justified it, made excuses, and hurt a great many people in the process. Maybe now I'll stop repeating my mom's life and get started on living my own.
I am completely satisfied with the idea of living in Indiana and going to IU and doing whatever I have to do to find some sort of psychological, spiritual, and physical stability. I know that is what I need; I've talked Thom's ear off about it. I'm satisfied with making art and finding out more about myself and also with giving travelling and moving around a break for a couple of years, until I can honestly say that it is what I wanted to do.