Influences

Aaron Sorkin inspired me to write. Joss Whedon inspired me to dream. 

Thank you both muchly.

Trying Something Different...

Carmen runs on the trail snaking through the woods.

There’s nothing chasing her, but she pushes her body to a punishing tempo, suggesting otherwise.

No, Carmen isn’t running from any physical danger.

Carmen is trying to escape herself.

- - - - -

Zack wanders through the woods halfheartedly.

He understands that his search is futile; however, the eager-eyed optimistic tween at home doesn’t.

But, Zack’s brother is dying.

The only thing Zack can do to help is look for something that doesn’t exist.

 - - - - -

Someone reads a story.

They understand that woods means life.

They understand all the metaphors.

 

Condoms...

The best way to familiarize yourself with condoms for that faithful, soon to come (no pun intended... wow, this just got a million times dirtier than I wanted it to be...) day? 

Open up the Health Ed's leftover box of 'em at the end of the school year and proceed to putting anything you possibly can into them. A surprising number of objects fit into them, including, but not limited to: 

Cellphones

Cooler Bottles

Staplers

Phone Receivers

Salt Shakers

Keys

Key with Key Cards

Door Knobs

Shower Heads (incidentally, when the shower head is turn on the condom fills with water, producing a distinct 'teardrop' shape)

Speakers

(the top half of) Canola Oil

Hands/Arms

Feet/Legs

Vacuum Cleaner Handles 

Other Condoms

Sandals

...etc. 

(note that all these things will remain lube-y and gross even after the eventual condom removal)

And it takes a curiously long time for people to figure out what you're doing, although you are drunk, and giddy, take a bunch of condoms, disappear, and return with none, all the while laughing manically... -- but in these cases, you can make a game out of it: "Hide and Go Seek Condom!" 

(... also note that you must remember where condoms are placed, especially if there are family members scheduled for a visit the morning after, to the room in question)

>>>> Actually, all of this HAS a moral, as hard as it may be to see... Again, no pun intended... Erhh, yes. Moral- if all these things can fit into a condom, there's no excuse not to use one for what it was... intended to be used for. 

**HOME IN THREE SLEEPS!!!!**

... should really get to sleep, I have a final tomorrow at seven in the evening... 

res

The toilet paper is rougher than the ones in the public buildings; 

the chairs provided mysteriously seem to not actually fit under the desks (reconciled with post-its); 

milk crates taken from the alleyway of 'Feel-Awful' and Tastes and washed in the shower are your storage units; 

a bed half-heartedly made and less than four articles of clothing on the back of your seat qualifies your room as 'neat'; 

the wall heater/AC dutifully keeps you warm while it's off, even in 25+ weather; 

you tape post-its to the door to keep the rattling from keeping you up; 

you're neighbors door keeps you up instead; 

there is an angry 'FUCK YOU' letter on the fridge door in the kitchen bitching out someone who steals half-eaten subs; 

you don't go to sleep until six in the morning. the sun rises at 5;

there are finally posters and pictures on your wall;

they keep falling;

post-its rectify any problem... except the falling posters;

a note on two pages of yellow legal pad taped across the door saying, 'Did you remember towels?';

it takes two or three trips to the bathroom to actually get everything together for a shower;

there are huge dark clumps of other peoples hair shoved into the corners of said shower;

an ethernet cable is needed to get internet connection;

there's a fly infestation; 

the majority of the socks brought in the beginning of the year have been cut up and are strangely useful;

three am is an appropriate time to finish an essay... or start one;

watched the entire series of himym;

watched at least three times, four or five for some episodes;

watched seven seasons of buffy;

one of angel (will be two);

all of firefly;

two of the big bang;watched all youtube clips of nph;

and alyson hannigan;

and everyone involved with the first four above;

the incense smell in the hall is not supposed to be there;

neither is the toaster your roommate has in your room;

your neighbor laughs and you feel like they're in your room;

cue wondering what seinfield said that was so funny;

the unfathomable amounts of crap in the common room free to take because the international students only had 2 bags of luggage;

midnight seems like a good time to vacuum for some people;

people yell in the hall and it takes minutes to realize it's your Don and you're supposed to be in a house meeting at the moment;

takes five minutes after getting into the elevator to realize it's not moving;

people who take the elevator to the first/second/third floor are openly berated;

spontaneously spending the night without calling anyone so they won't worry;

you know that the second and last bathroom stalls are the only ones that lock properly, the first has a funny toilet and the third has the best potty-paper;

you can recite this months potty-paper;

the sinks in either end 

you can play 'where's the blood on the wall' from last years haunted house... there's still a faint tinge of ketchup in the air;

microwaving popcorn at three in the morning is perfectly normal- at least yours is low-calories;

not really relevant, just something i've been thinking about...

I hate that moment in your life when you realize that your parents aren't perfect. When you start seeing their flaws and you're no longer a naive five-years old, holding their hand and looking up at them like they're Gods and they can do no wrong in the world. 

When the hell does that moment happen? And why can't we just ignore it forever?

EDIT>> but also, it does feel nice being treated as an equal. Getting to know them as people and not parents. Laughing with them and seeing their personalities... it's weird, isn't it?

Five times in 8 months?

So I don't really have anything specific to say except...

I changed the furniture around in my room again. I showed my Mom and she said, 'I have no idea where this compulsion to change your room comes from' but in Polish. I really don't know either. It provides some good entertainment though. Scenario: 

There is a pile of random stuff and my guitar stuff right in front of the door. My bed is in the middle of the room. My desk is halfway to the place it's supposed to be and my dressers against the non-window wall. I've got Commentary! going, and I'm vacuuming the dead flies up from under the heater (which means they've fallen onto my bed and then down through that space- ecikk!!) and, because they're dead flies, I'm also SCREAMING my head off. Somehow through all this I managed to hear the phone- which was apparently ringing for the second time. When I went to pick up the phone the base fell off the heater and smashed into the ground. The faceplate almost popped off. 

It was utter chaos. 

And then Chris walked in, saw the utter chaos, turned around and closed the door. Came back 15 seconds later and said, 'What. The. Hell.' 

It was awesome. 

It's cold in my room. 

Spike Lee was supposed to direct the Rent movie the first time they considered it. Wonder if  Johnathan Larson ever imagined that could even be a possibility when he wrote the line, "I hear Spike Lee's shooting down the street"?

Neil Patrick Harris was supposed to be Mark in the TV special they were thinking of making. OBC or NPH? AH!!!! Situation that truly requires a 'Grr, Argh'. 

Inherently Lonely

Sumthin' tha's sor'a like a'most sumthing tha's a'most like a song... not sure wot I'm goin' ta do wif it thou'. 

--Edit: Changed the title to Inherently Lonely... figured it fit. 

- - - - -

Inherently Lonely 

- - - - - 

A thousand miles away,

The feeling’s understandable.

 

A hundred miles away,

It makes sense that you’d feel

 

Something in your heart

Something heavy black and hard

 

It’s weighting you down,

It’s making you question-

 

But when you’re there,

Where you’re supposed to be,

 

Why does it keep feeling like

You’re a thousand miles away?

 

The heavy black and hard

Finding a way to fight the cure

 

Maybe the cure isn’t what you thought?

Maybe it’s not distance or time that sets you apart?

Maybe it’s the isolation you build for yourself,

Two-way mirrors that let you look in,

But keep you hidden from their view?

 

The expectation makes it harder,

The foreign space makes it colder,

 

And you’re left with a feeling,

That too resembles what you thought you’d left behind.

 

There’s nothing you can do about it,

There’s nothing you can see,

 

You feel like no one can understand it,

And those who might, just won’t

 

You want to find your footing,

You want to stop spastically drowning,

 

Thankful for anything, anyone who deters

But you find you still feel that feeling.

 

Maybe the cure isn’t what you thought?

Maybe it’s not distance or time that sets you apart?

Maybe it’s the isolation you build for yourself,

Two-way mirrors that let you look in,

But keep you hidden from their view?

 

Now the feeling’s gone and left,

Disappeared from your body

 

You can’t feel it when you walk,

When you talk,

When you smile,

When you laugh,

Only when you cry…

 

When you cry it all comes out,

Emotions, tears and snot,

 

You realize it never left,

That you’ve made yourself remember

 

That heavy, black and hard feeling,

You’ve made sure to preserve

 

It just makes sense to protect yourself,

Cause you know that soon you might be,

 

A thousand miles away,

And it’ll all make sense,

 

A hundred miles away,

And it’ll all make sense,

 

But until that day you’ll hold on to it,

Hold on to that feeling,

 

Because as much as holding onto it-

Doesn’t at all make sense,

 

You know you’ve prepared yourself,

And you’ll be thankful for it soon.