remedial labor is not for me

Grab the plate, scrape the plate, stack the plate, grab the silverware, throw the silverware, grab the plate scrape the plate, flip the tray stack the plate, rinse the plate stack, one at a time, re-stack the rinsed plates. Grab the trays flip them over again, rinse them, stack them, rinse the bowls, stack the bowls, don't get backed up, keep scraping, keep rinsing, keep stacking, keep re-stacking. Nothing but food and napkins in the pulper, catch all plastic, wood, and bones. Switch jobs. Plates go two, one, two, one, facing forward. Bowls go in rows of three, facing backwards. Trays go one at a time staggered in a zig-zag facing forward. little plates go three, two, three, two, facing forwards. Little bowls go in a tray, cups go in a rack, coffee mugs go in a rack, Silverware goes through in a tray, Silverware goes through again in a green rack, silverware goes through again in a gray rack. big trays and pans go one at a time upside down, serving spoons go in a tray. Everything else goes one at time. Mats can not go through until nothing else needs to be washed. Switch jobs. When you unload everything goes in a cart. Everything has a place, You must wear unloading gloves. Plates go in the plate cart, bowls go in the bowl cart, trays go on the tray cart, don't stack the trays over 6 feet, little plates go in the plate cart, little bowls need to be taken out of the tray and put in a cart, cups get stacked in their racks, so do coffee mugs. Everything else gets put on the shelves, someone will come grab them when they are needed. Sort the silverware spoons, soup spoons, forks, knives. Fill the green rack up three fourths, the gray one only half way. Put only the gray tray on the shelf after its been run through. Keep doing this until its a reflex, keep doing it til you do not realize you are doing it. Eventually you will be good enough at it to pick up everyone's slack. If you cut yourself when someone else breaks something, suck it up and get to work, you are shorthanded. Just keep working. Just keep working. We will pay you someday. Just keep working.

Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box

I tried all day long to stop thinking, to clear my mind, relax my thoughts. It was all in vain. I tried to think of nothing, but then I began imagining what nothing was, what nothing means. I saw shades of white, shades, of black, shades of gray, realizing each time that none of these things were actually nothing, why could I not see nothing. Needless to say I had to change my strategy. My new strategy: I began just staring at intimate objects, but i found instead of just staring, I would begin to inspect these objects detail by detail There is no pattern in the tile, it is completely random. So I stared at the wall, at first I zoned off deep in my thoughts, but I caught myself so I began inspecting the paint on my wall, once again I caught myself. So I sat in my chair closed my eyes and listened to music, that didn't work I just focused on the lyrics and tore apart the song. So I tried to focus on the music, the melody that worked until I heard the lyrics again. So i just listened to drumming, it works. I can just listen to drumming and do a little fantasia effect in my head and think about absolutely nothing. It is beautiful, magical, relaxing.

Do what you have to

It is funny when stuff in my life starts to work out for me I find something else to be depressed about. It is like I do not want myself to feel happy, careless. I get out of the dark and I am like why is this so great. There is always something wrong, always something that can be better, always something I do not know. So I cheer up and I think to myself why the fuck are you so happy and then just think of all the reasons for despondence and I go hurling back into my cycle. Careless days, reflected upon every evening resulting in a shitty night of something like sleep and a hollow feeling until the sun comes up. I feel like maybe I can not function without this, maybe everyone feels this way, everyone who thinks at least. Maybe this makes me cynical, but I think it is the opposite a cynic is always pissed at something, I am never angry. I am only depressed because I still have hope, hope for me, hope for the planet, hope for humanity. Maybe it is naive but without it I would always be depressed always be a cynic, but with it I only feel ashamed at night. Now at the same time I could be happy all the time, if I was completely ignorant of the world, of my own emotion, of my own thoughts, ideas, and dreams. My conclusion is it is okay, maybe even normal to feel this way. Do people not say we would not know happiness if we were always happy?

look at the moon, see how it shines for you?

Tonight the moon is enormous, it is beautiful, breath taking. Its brightness is only heightened by its enormous size. I wish I could just go outside and stare at it's lunar majesty, envy the explores who stepped foot on its unknown, foreign surface, but I can not, it makes me sick. I was just outside staring up into it wondering how anyone would rather do something else then stare at it's magnificence, I got really really depressed. As I stared I realized how small, how insignificant I am, in comparison with the universe, I am dust in the corner. The vastness of everything the incomprehensible amount of space, going on forever in all directions. We will never hit a wall we will never find a logical spot where existence stops, that is if we exist at all. Normally I can come up to some logical sound conclusion that explains what I do not understand, this is not that case. Logic can only go so far it only fills so much of the emptiness. When all the logic is used up some people use faith, they say it makes them feel complete, feel whole, feel significant. I tried it once, twice, a million times. I have tried so many times to fill this emptiness, this unknown, this infinity. In and out of every kind of church, independent religion, life philosophy, moral code, logic. Nothing works. I just can not take this feeling, I know it will pass, it always passes, but it always comes back. It comes back and it comes back worse and worse, more and more intense. I want that carelessness I want that faith. I want to believe in something, anything. I want fucking religion, I want meaning, I want purpose, I want answers.

I never looked for heaven much until we put you in the ground

Its all Im doing now looking for patterns in the sound of an endless static sea.
Driving down Bristol road, definitely in my early twenties, the scene is the same except for where I-75 goes over Bristol there is a huge lake, so Bristol road is a bridge over a lake with a bridge over it. I pull up to the stoplight and see a school bus fly off the bridge into the lake. Everyone else in the world blinked at that exact second and missed the whole thing, for some reason in the dream I have that knowledge. Just as the light turns green I throw open the car door and sprint towards the bridge. The bus is still visible at the surface of the water, but no one else seems to notice it. I dive in without hesitation off the bridge, into the murky blue lake. (My need to help others?) I swim up to the bus, now sinking quickly and peer into the windows, I have no need for oxygen, faces peer back, they are all my face, all around twelve or fourteen years old, then one by one they all close their eyes (I can only assume loss of innocence or faith). At this point I am punching at the window so hard my hand is bleeding. One buy one all the little mes dissolve except for one in the back of the bus, I swim to it and put my hands on the window. It is blue and its eyes are closed. Suddenly it opens its eyes and smacks the window. I gasp and my lungs fill with water. I am now aware of my need for oxygen, I am drowning, but I do not swim for the surface. I pound the window with less and less strength. Then someone grabs my collar and I can feel myself being dragged to the surface, I look towards my savior an angelic interpretation of my mother (Some sort of guardian "Angel" perhaps). I make it to the surface and on to the pavement, but somehow no one notices my savior. There is a crowd now all concerned about why I jumped into the lake and I desperately try to tell them, but I can not stop choking up water, gallons and gallons of water. (Something to do with not being able to find what I am looking for?) The dream ends.
It is not December and it is not February, I do not know why you are haunting my dreams in January, but the naive side is telling me you are trying to tell me something. My logical side is telling me I am trying to find you, to construct an after life for you, because I think it is what you deserve.

last night as I recall it

Furiously shoving clothing into a bag and I notice a pair of shorts that do not belong to me, I continue to shove clothing into the bag. I throw the bag on the bed, it is empty, fade out. Fade in, standing near a hippopotamus, I hear someone say, "but it has rabies," I reply with certainty, "it is a very mild form this hippo is great with children." Wake up, roll around. Fade in, blackness an hour glass, sand falls through grain by grain. I hear laughter and the glass shatters. Sit up, smash my head on the ceiling, drink water, roll around. Fade in, sailing on a sailboat, it is a beautiful day, the lake disappears, flying in the sailboat, above the clouds, fade out. Fade in, sitting around a table with indistinguishable chatter, I try to interject, to join the conversation I am ignored, I recognize all the faces of all the people but I have no idea who they are. Once again I try to speak up the table disappears, I am surrounded by the chatting faces, which are now growing upwards and twisting into blackened silhouettes all with yellow eyes looking at me. I stand up and run, I am running in place, fade out. Fade in, I get out of bed and walk to my bathroom, only this is not the dorm room, this is not my house, this is my moms house. I walk to the bathroom and stare into the mirror into my moms face, I hear laughter and the mirror shatters. I wake up freezing cold get out of bed, walk to the bathroom stare in the mirror, it is my own face. I sit on the bathroom floor and stare at the tile, for about an hour. Then I puke, chug a nalgene and return to sleep. This time I am dreamless. My alarm goes off at nine fifteen, I check my email class is canceled. I lay back down and stare at the ceiling, there is a dent from my forehead. I fall back asleep and dream about the sky falling.

True words

You're a star-belly sneech, You suck like a leach. You want everyone to act like you. Kiss ass while you bitch, so you can get rich, but your boss gets richer off you. Well you'll work harder with a gun in your back for a bowl of rice a day. Slave for soldiers til you starve. Then your head is skewered on a stake.

The simple things

Fourteen degrees, ten o clock, we gather outside some of us bundled up, some of us in shorts. We are armed with brooms wrapped in tape, we are wearing shoes and ratty old pennies, we are playing on a large patch of flattened down slick snow. The ball is dropped and the game starts, all at once we are screaming, cheering playing are hardest. We are dedicated to this last minute event we planned, fully invested in it. For three 12 minute periods nothing matters, nothing but broom-ball. The game is high energy and we take it seriously, for many of us it was our first time, but we look like a well oiled machine, goal after goal, dog pile after dog pile, we only see broom-ball, we only worry about broom-ball, we have complete guilt free fun. This is what the world needs, stress relief. If people would slow down take an hour out of their days and just do, invest their mind, in something fun, high energy, I feel like people would be happier. It is free, I am not saying everyone needs to go out and play broom-ball. The just need to free their minds for a bit. I have been stressing out so much lately but for an hour all I thought about was how Heretofore needed to be the broom-ball champions. I am so relaxed and content right now, it is not even funny. Not to mention, Heretofore is currently undefeated, I scored twice, once a penalty shot, and have another game Thursday.

How you gonna ever find your place running in an artificial pace?

Its all like a motion. Wake up do this, do that, do this, go to class, do this, go to class, do that, do this, do that, be spontaneous, go to bed. The fucked up thing is I am really happy with it. I am skating by going through the motions, having a blast. College has never been more fun. I am just nervous that something is going to catch up to me. It is like I feel overly accomplished, when I really have not done anything. I planned a bunch of stuff out, laid the ground work, and decided I was finished. I have this pseudo-sense of accomplishment that I have been hanging by, but now I am starting to see its all just tentative. I have just been playing a waiting game since December waiting for things to fall into place and now they are starting to. The pieces do not really fit right on their own, I need to follow through. I guess its not pseudo-accomplishment anymore because I called myself out on it, I guess I am lying to myself. At any rate this means it is crunch time. Time to get my shit together and like get off auto pilot. I don't know, It is complicated.

For En211

Memory, I am afraid, is the most dishonest narrator. Memory is very biased to start with; I choose what to remember, what is important to remember. It is subconscious for the most part, but sometimes I even consciously try to forget something. I am biased; every single thing I say is somehow influenced by my opinion, my individual life experience. Everything for me is a little different than what it is for you. The memories I have are not spared from my biases. Two people could have witnessed the same exact event, one finding it beautiful, the other tragic, and over time each time these people recall the event, each time one will make it more tragic, the other more beautiful. If they were ever to discuss that event with one another they would be shocked at the difference in recollection. With that I must tell you that while the stories I tell are true to the best of my memory, they may have changed over time. It is also necessary for me to say that some of my memories are mere segments of events surrounded by clouds of gray, and I fill in the clouds of gray with things that I think may have happened or what logically may have occurred. To the best of my memory my life did not even start until I was four, all memories before that time are constructed from home videos. My memories are not perfect and while they are clear to me sometimes they are no more clear than a dream, they may have never even happened. It could, honestly, all just be a dream, I do not really know.

meh.

The pack is heavy. The sweat spots on my shirt become indistinguishable from one another, ten miles into a hike and I am soaked. With every step the lakeshore gets further away and the sun gets closer. I have been walking at no less than a forty five degree angle for about two hours now, following the trail as it switchbacks up the base of the mountain. The trees begin to thin out as I grow closer and closer to the end of the tree line. As I saw the rocky top of the mountain peeking out from behind the trees, I walk a bit faster, I run, full pack, I run. I am eager to escape the birch forest and the path. I explode through the trees, into the clearing, before me the peak was only 100-150 feet up tops. I glance at the trail, I glance at the rocky slope, I glance again at the trail. I hurry to the rocky slope. I was in an instant painfully aware that I was without technical climbing equipment and the slope was almost eighty degrees. I paced around, looking for a more practical face to climb, and then at last I spotted it. I was ecstatic. It is maybe a seventy degree slope and it is gravel. Without a minute to spare I am forty feet up. I press on, the gravel disappears I am rock hoping. I pause for a moment and take my boots off so I have better grip. I continue until it seems that I can go no further. I am about fifteen feet from summit, and I can just reach the next, “landing,” with my hands, the edge of the next landing sticks out above my head. There is no way I am brave enough to try that with a pack on. Defeated for a moment I begin to look for an alternate route. There are none it is either up or down, I take off my pack and grab a drink of water. If it wasn’t for the pack, I be I could make it, I thought. Then it hit me, I attempt to toss my pack up on the “landing” above, I hit the edge. My pack starts to fall; I just barely catch it and lose balance due to its forty five pound girth. I regain my footing and toss again, it makes it. I grip the edge as best I can, lean back and walk up the rock, until my knees hit my chest, then I push myself up, scraping my knees terribly in the process. I drag my legs over the edge. I stand up brush the gravel out of my knees and off my feet, lace up my boots and scope out the highest point. I make short work of reaching it. I am rewarded with a 360 degree panoramic view 2500 feet in the air. My knees are bleeding, I am sore, drenched in sweat, exhausted, and trying to catch my breath, but never happier. I just stand there in awe, lake superior to one side, a smaller mountain on another, a winding river, all encompassed by a sea of birch. It is by far not the most impressive mountain, but it is mine. I sit on my thrown, the highest point in Minnesota, and bandage up my knees, remove my boots, rehydrate, eat peanut butter and jelly, the breakfast, lunch, and dinner of champions, and wait for my group. They were probably just now reaching the base of the rocks and opting to take the trail.

suburban sunrise

I wake up, if I was ever actually sleeping. It is pitch-black. I roll over look at the red numbers illuminated on my desk, they are blurry. I lean out of bed to get closer, careful to remain completely covered by my comforter. I wait for a moment in the dark as my unaided eyes adjust. The numbers clearer now read 2:33. Has it only been four minutes since I last checked? My clock must be slow, I get out of bed, walk through my silent house, everyone else is soundly sleeping. I check the clock in the living room, 2:33. I walk into the dining room and check the clock, 2:34. Defeated by time, I move into the kitchen to get a glass of water as I fill it up I realize there are dirty dishes in the sink. I glance at the clock again, 2:34. I decide I might as well do the dishes. I begin to fill up the sink with soapy hot water, as it fills I glance at the clock again, 2:34. I begin to do the dishes, when I realize the light is off, I walk over to turn it on. My light switch is located at the top of the stairs to my basement, as I am turning it on, I glance down the stairs and notice a light in the basement. I determine this to be a wasteful use of electricity and venture into the basement to turn it off. When I reach the basement floor, I glance at a clock 2:38. I turn the light off and as I head back to the stairs I notice my telescope in the corner covered in dust. I glance again to the clock, 2:38. I grab the telescope and head back up the stairs. I set it at the top of the stairs and return to the dishes, I glance into the family room at the plants. I finish the dishes and go into the family room, the plants are dry. I glance at the clock on the computer, 2:40. I water the plants. I return to the kitchen and grab a newly cleaned glass, for my interrupted drink of water. I grab my telescope and head out to the backyard. It is a typical summer night warm but breezy. I glance at the sky, the stars are sparse the moon is a crescent. I set up my telescope on the deck, the trees block my view. I walk out into the yard barefoot and glance up at the sky again, no change. I go to the deck and retrieve my telescope. I walk around to the TV antenna on the side of my house. With my telescope underarm I climb up to the roof when I reach the top I try to set up my telescope, so it does not fall due to the slant of the roof. After a few minutes of fumbling around I am slightly successful. I look at the stars and the moon. Amazed at how much better they look even through a cheap telescope. After about an hour of standing and star gazing I get tired. I take out my cell phone and check the time, 3:37. I keep, during the summer, a lawn chair and one of those Rubbermaid boxes on my roof. In the box is a blanket, a pillow, binoculars, and some other stuff occasionally. I pull out the blanket and pillow and lay down on the roof. I stare at the stars. I doze off. I wake to the sun peaking out over the meager tree line in my back yard. I pull out my cell phone and check the time, 6:03. I lay there and watch the suburban sunrise, Shocked both by its beauty and the beauty it lacks.

It is tomorrow,

and the sun is finally out...

perhaps it is a forewarning

It seems like lately all I do is put my ideas down on paper. It is beginning to get hard to recall the last time I talked to someone, truly talked to someone. Yes I chat with people all the time share stories, sometimes share ideas, but we are careful to avoid each others toes. We formulate everything we say to sound the least offensive it can. In conversation we tend to be overly concerned with the others person’s thoughts and their reactions to our words. On paper there is no way to foresee what kind of reaction we will evoke. We can speculate as to how it will be received but we have no signals to stop. We can not look at the facial expression of the reader and snatch our words away as we see their jaw tense, because their response to that action would still be unfavorable. The written word is brutal honesty, almost permanent. It is true that some people think of their readers, their desired audience as they write, but I do not. I have no desired audience, I write for myself, it is soothing, getting the ideas out, the motion of my hand guiding the pen or my hands on the keys, it is pure relaxation. I love to stare at a blank page and know that I can turn it into whatever I want, a reflection of myself, an elaborate story. The best part is I can be as offensive as I want; I am not forcing people to read it. I have no desired audience, aside from my blog, and papers I turn in for class, I am the only person who reads my words, and I am not easily offended. I would not say I am a good writer, I do not usually have anything really interesting to say when I write, I mean, I am writing about writing right now. My attempts at creative writing and fiction usually remain just attempts. My non fiction is whiny, but still I feel the urge to do it and I am really enjoying it. However, I feel like I am running out of things to say. That is why I am going to attempt to write more exciting things. I already write about stuff I think about everyday, but I am going to start writing about stuff I remember everyday, the future, stuff I imagine, and more dreams. It is just when I put what is in my head on paper or in type my mind seems less crowded, and I feel more relaxed.

Note to self:

What the fuck are you doing? Are you serious right now? Suck it up! Get over it! You have been through way worse. Stop whining about how hard it is. Stop whining about how pointless it seems. Suck it up fake a smile and move on until that smile is real. What? you say your collapsing under the pressure? Who is the pressure coming from? That is right its all you. You keep pushing yourself into stuff to make other people happy. Chill out. Do what you want, do what is best for you. Don't not worry about other people, but put yourself first sometimes. So your dreams are not working out like you thought. Stop being naive if stuff went according to plan, you would have no free will. Snap the fuck out of it. Do not give up. Keep Dreaming.

Purpose

I do not have a higher purpose in life. It makes me jealous when people find their "calling," because it seems like mine does not exist. I had it all figured out once, I was going to change things, I was going to fix hundreds of years of mistakes, I was going to save the planet, save humanity. I was going to change things. Now I look at these people that do not want to be saved, and lose hope. So many people are dreamers, they had these same big plans and they have not changed anything. There has been small victories, sure, but everyone is focusing on different little things. I could care less about changing a little thing because none of that shit matters in the long run. I want to save humanity, but what am I? but humanity. I can not save humanity from itself, I can not save me from myself. If it were possible it would have happened. Knowing that it is all doomed makes everything else seem trivial. Now that everything is trivial, the things that were to me once trivial, and needed to be done are now just an annoying little process I go through. It is all just a motion, I am just stalling. I am not going to do anything with my life because there is nothing to be done. I am sure I will be successful, do something, "great," but I do not think I am going to find what I am looking for. It does not exist. I am not depressed, I usually enjoy myself, I have a good life, better than most. I am just having trouble finding purpose, seeing meaning in anything. I mean, maybe it is a good thing, that I am starting to realize this now.

Faith

I wish I had something to "live for."

mental warfare

I am not stupid. I know you are taking advantage of my good nature. You are lucky I am nice, if I was not I would destroy you right now. Unfortunately for you I am done dropping hints to get you to stop, now you are going to stop. I will passive aggressively destroy you. You will not realize it is happening in fact it has already begun. This is how it will happen, in a few days i will confront you very calmly and not standoffish. You will most likely ignore me because I am not going to be assertive at all. Little do you know I have the support of not only everyone with power but everyone else we both come into contact with. I am generally likable, you like me, you are not expecting this. Truth is I do not like you and because you are walking all over me I now resent you. I digress, like I said everyone is on my side, and you will not listen to me, I will tell you again slightly more assertively. You will listen this time for a couple of weeks, then you will go back to taking advantage of my good nature. You thought the whole thing would, "blow over," wrong. It does not blow over unless you stop. Now I get my allies involved, even more on my side now for giving you these chances. I win. I hope you enjoy yourself now because it will not last.

Something went wrong. somewhere.

"Go back to bed, America, your government has figured out how it all transpired. Go back to bed America, your government is in control. Here, here's American Gladiators. Watch this, shut up, go back to bed America, here is American Gladiators, here is 56 channels of it! Watch these pituitary retards bang their fucking skulls together and congratulate you on the living in the land of freedom. Here you go America - you are free to do what well tell you! You are free to do what we tell you!" -Bill Hicks

This place is nothing like the stories in history books, nothing like the stories my grandparents tell me, nothing like the "good ole days." The problem is that, it is my own fault. There are still opportunities and I experience an enormous amount of freedom. It is just that American culture has conditioned me to not appreciate it or know what to do with it. Yet, less and less I am ignorant to its existence and more and more I find something to do with it. Unfortunately It is becoming clear to me that other people are not experiencing this phenomenon. Every time I meet a person aware of the big picture, politics, culture, history, and the sort, I meet at least ten people who are blissfully stewing in their ignorance. In America majority rules, ignorance wins.

Fuck.

The smooth surface, reflects back my own face, yet I can see through it. It shines in the light and rainbows of color emerge from somewhere deep within it. I put my hand on its surface it glides so smoothly never hitting a single bump. It is mesmerizing. The beauty of water contained in this stalagmite of ice. I stare longer getting more lost in the way it distorts reality and reflects it back to me. I reach back out to touch it one more time as soon as I get close it falls. I watch it fall past my still outstretched hand onto the icy pavement. The impact is grotesque, the beautiful icicle is in a million little pieces around my feet, they still shine in the light, but their splendor is lost. No one else who walks down the sidewalk will ever know about the beauty that hung from the dipping roof. They will not even see the shards of it on the sidewalk, the mid afternoon sun will surely melt them. It is like this icicle never really existed to anyone but me. This icicle is my dreams. This icicle was my dreams.

I bleed tree sap.

I have been vegetarian for about four and a half years. Today I am giving all that up. As of today I am no longer vegetarian, I am not pescatarian, I am not lacto-ovo-vegatarian, I am not vegan. I just choose not to eat meat, gelatin, dairy, or eggs. The label is just a hassle. I am sick of people saying, "Oh you are vegetarian, can you eat eggs? Do you miss bacon? I can not live without bacon." Then I would always have to tell them I can do whatever I want I just choose not to eat eggs. I would explain to them that I always hated the taste and texture of meat anyway, that it was not hard for me, that the smell of bacon grossed me out. They would always reply with "oh that sucks" or "poor you," like someone had forced me into it. Then they would always ask why I do not eat meat, and for the longest time I would say, "I can not justify killing something when it is not necessary." Then I just got sick of explaining myself, and just started telling people, "I don't know, I was bored." This is the last time I will explain myself. I do not eat meat, gelatin, or now eggs because it is not necessary, the human race has evolved past it, if we were meant to eat meat we would eat it raw, in my opinion, and I can not justify killing something that does not need to be killed. I am giving up dairy because It is not necessary or natural. We are the only species that drinks milk past infancy, or for that matter another species milk. That is it. I am giving it up on moral almost spiritual grounds. I know it is just an opinion, not everyone agrees, obviously, I do not expect them to. I just wish instead of harassing me for it, even playfully, that they would realize my choice not to eat meat is just like their choice to eat meat and I never bother them for their reason. It is more of a hassle to explain myself then to do it, which is why I refuse to identify myself with a label, from now on I am not a vegetarian I just do not like meat, eggs, milk, or gelatin.

I turn the channel but nothings changing, the only truth is that everythings a lie.

I feel like I am buried. Hopelessly stuck at the bottom of some giant gaping hole in the earth. It is like I was walking one day blissfully distracted by the scenery ignoring the sounds of heavy machinery and ignoring the signs warning that the earth I was use to walking on was absent a few feet up the path. So I just continued along, I may of even had to jump a fence to gain access to the construction sight, but nonetheless I strolled along until my feet no longer reached solid ground. I did not care or perhaps I did not notice, I just kept motioning like I was walking as I careened deeper into the pit. When I hit the bottom I did not try to escape I just enjoyed the scenery miles below the crust of the earth. Then all at once I was buried under tons and tons of dirt and stone. I can not move, I can not breathe, I can not grasp the situation I am in, if I could all I could do is be depressed about it. This is of course a metaphor. In either case I am about to collapse under the pressure and in both cases there is nothing I can productively do about the situation, I have done everything within my power. One the surface things are fine, the construction project went fine, I have a job, in the process of securing another, classes are easy, Financial aid is being reevaluated, but under the layers of dirt I am stressed I am panicking. The more the construction on the surface continues the worse my chances for escape, for rescue. I cant stop it and more is piled on and the pressure is harder and harder, the panic is more intense. The scary thing is I think it is mental.

I was told,

"This is how you make a bed. This is how you vacuum the floor. This is how you wash clothes. This is how you fold those clothes. This is how you brush your teeth. This is how you tie you shoes. This is how you zip your coat. This is how you lock the door. This is how you start a car. This is how you turn left, right. This is how you apply for college. This is how you fill out fafsa. This is how you try and make ends meet. This is how you apply for a loan. This is how you scrape together money. This is how you shake someones hand. This is what you put on a resume. This is how you wash dishes. This is how you mop the floor. This is how you open a bank account. This is how you write a check. This is how you pay taxes. This is how you buy a car. This is how you study. This is how you graduate. This is how you get a job. This is how start a family. This is how you buy a house. This is how you pay a mortgage. This is how to pay a speeding ticket. This is how to take out a second mortgage. This is how you get a divorce. This is how you get out of debt. This is how you pick up the pieces of your family. This is how to behave at a funeral. This is how to you start a family. This is how you get promoted. This is how you work as much as possible. This is how you get promoted. This is how you buy stocks. This is how you retire. This is how you take up a nice hobby. This is how write your will. This is how you plan a funeral. This is how you check into a hospital. This is how you get surgery. This is how you pay medical bills. This is how you revise your will. This is how you reminisce, repent. This is how you live. This is how you die." I replied, "I have a better idea."

What is reality?

Fuck if I know.
After much time spent thinking and serving food:
Here it goes. So life holds no truth, because all things considered true are based on assumptions and best guesses. However, we all believe that these things are facts, truths. We base our reality on a set of assumptions. What does that mean? Simple reality is a myth, we assume what we consider to be reality is reality because it is all we think we know. Of course we do not actually know, we just think. The thing is my mind is to "complex" to accept that these things that are told to me in the form of "facts" hold any truth at all. However I am also to smart to reject commonly held beliefs, usually. Some of them hold some merit and are definitely the best possible explanation thus far. Yet I consider my self open minded enough to realize just because I believe something is the best reason does not mean a better reason will not come along. So while I say I know and explain things like they are facts, I believe what I am saying is simply the best possible explanation in most cases. Sometimes though I will reject one of these "facts" completely because it lacks the support I need to believe it, or the support is constructed from things that are not known as "facts." So what is reality? Fuck if I know.

There's some lives you live And some you leave behind

I feel like I am leaving more and more behind. It bothered me at first because I thought I was changing into something I am not. Then I realized that if I am changing I can not possibly be changing into something I am not, in principle nothing can change into what it is not, and I know I am not imitating something I am not, this is me. To change I need to get rid of stuff to make room for new things. What I am leaving behind are mainly flaws in my personality Hypocrisy, conceitedness, and ignorance are the main ones that come to mind. In high school I was conceited because I thought I knew a lot, turns out I was really quite ignorant and that ignorance made me a hypocrite a lot. Now I have come to realize I am just not that special, there are so many people "better than me," at certain things, my pride fades. When I realized I was not good enough I tried harder, learned more, my ignorance fades. I learn to know what the shit I say means before I said it, my hypocrisy fades. These are all good things. When I realized this I was a little less disappointed, but nonetheless still I was kind of disappointed. Disappointed that some of the stuff I was leaving behind was still important to me, so I backtracked to try and retrieve these metaphorical items I missed about myself, whether they were relationships or interests, I went back for them. When I reached for them I got burned, no longer do they hold any importance to me. Now each time I lose a relic from my past I just feel apathetic, I am not happy to see it go usually, but it never bothers me anymore. Hopefully the trend of only losing the bad remains, or I might destroy myself and be unmoved.

What personal benefits do you hope to obtain through membership?

You and I both know that I am going to BS this application question. I will list everything I think you want to hear and you will eat it up. In fact everyone doing this essay is writing exactly what you want to hear, "I enjoy improving myself through taking on leadership roles." Well fuck that, I am going to tell you straight up, I like it when people listen to me, I like feeling like I have the power to change something, I like to be heard. I am sick of spoon feeding you all of my achievements, all of my previous leadership roles. I told you what you want to hear, now read what I have to say. I want to be in the SLFP because I know it will be a good experience for me, it will count towards my edge hours, help me land an RA job, and I know it will look really good on my resume. I am sure your program will help me grow as a leader and I am sure it will open many doors for me. None of that matters though because I probably will not get in if I sound just like every other applicant, I mean you only pick 50 out of god knows how many. I am just not that special. Here is why you should pick me though, I am a natural born leader, I crave it. I want this not because of all the perks I already listed to you. I want this because I crave the ability to change things, an ability which is almost nonexistent without a leadership position. All I ask is that you have mercy on my standard answers to your standard questions, I am manipulating you, because I know what you want and I want to be what you want.
Needless to say this is only what I want to turn it, not what I will.

And the seasons they go round and round

It is always said that time flies you are having fun, it is not true time seems to go by faster when you are preoccupied. Time moves at a steady rate, but when something ends it is hard to prove it ever really happened. Here is the thing, I remember when I was little I always, around mid October, already started my countdown to christmas. The first thing I thought every morning was one more day closer to Christmas. It could not come fast enough. Then one day I woke up and it was christmas eve, the next day it was mid February, and my tiny mind thinks, "What the fish sticks! When did Christmas happen?" Now I remember being 12 years old and thinking how great life is going to be when I turn 16, then one day I woke up and thought, much more vulgarly, "When the fuck did I turn 18." This is a bit of a tangent, but the human mind can not truly comprehend time, well time does not exist, but we can not even comprehend this thing we made up to describe the vast length of existence. I mean the word forever when really thought about should make everyone throw up. What I am saying is, like after something happens, it becomes nothing more than a memory, more condensed than what actually took place. The question is then did that ever even take place? I remember my dreams as vividly as some memories. Who is to say which is more real.

I hope I am just bluffing again.

Oh it's a mystery to me.
We have a greed, with which we have agreed...
and you think you have to want more than you need...
until you have it all, you won't be free.
When you want more than you have, you think you need...
and when you think more then you want, your thoughts begin to bleed.
I think I need to find a bigger place...
cause when you have more than you think, you need more space.
There's those thinkin' more or less, less is more,
but if less is more, how you keepin' score?
It means for every point you make, your level drops.
Kinda like you're startin' from the top...
and you can't do that.

Society, you're a crazy breed.
I hope you're not lonely, without me.

From 11-6-2010

Strangers in a small room dressed in black clothes, uncomfortable black clothes. Some people know each other some people knew each other, but no one is laughing and catching up. It is a room filled with strangers and a room filled with silence. There is a man in a box front and center, he does not look quiet and peaceful. He looks like someone who once lived but now his skin seems fake, his face is unnaturally posed, eyes painfully closed. He is why we are here. Apparently we came to pay out respects, the situation anything but respectful. There are three kind of people here; people who were close with this man, they are genuinely sad and crying hysterically or "being strong," there are people who do not know this man or barely know this man, but who are obligated to attend, and view it only as an annoyance, then there are people who barely know this man but know the hysterical loved ones well, and attend to support them. Then I am there sitting in the back, with my brother and cousins, we are sad, because the man has always been nice, but we are there for the mans relatives. Myself in particular was tearing up at eyes and crying deeply inside not for the man in the box, but for my grandpa who died many years ago and had a similar get together, then the tears for my papa became tears for my mom and I was holding it back. This situation is uncomfortable for all, the guests, the close family, the priest, the only one not uncomfortable was the man in the box. So please take this post as a will, skip the funeral.

I am pretty confident in my major now

The opposite of biodiversity is referred to as monoculture. Monoculture is the existence of one species, excluding the rest, like a well maintained lawn, or a field of potatoes. There is a process in nature called succession, this process over generations increases diversity. Biodiversity is what is found in nature, it is stable. Monoculture is man made, it is prone to collapse. A diverse community contains many different species acting on each level of the energy pyramid. For example the base, the producers contain many species of grass, trees, bushes, and shrubs. There is a food web in a diverse community. Monoculture on the other hand only has a single species on each level of the pyramid; one producer, one consumer on each consumer level. A non diverse community has a food chain. The food chain is not stable, lets say the producer is grass, the level one consumer is a rabbit, on level two a bear, top of the pyramid for kicks lets put humans. Lets say the rabbit catches a disease and begins to die off. The grass grows unchecked and depletes its resources the soil loses nutrients and can not support life, the bear starve, and their starvation leaves humans without food, human kind dwindles, becomes extinct, life ends. In a food chain however the rabbits die, the bear eats berries, salmon, deer. The grass is eaten by deer and elk, life remains. This is High school level knowledge, whats my point? Biodiversity is shrinking, the lower the number of species the smaller the chance for life to continue on earth. Human beings continue to chop down rain forests to start monocultures of wheat, over fish species to extinction, and plow over grassland to create monocultures of themselves. If this continues unchecked life will cease to exist. The earths natural cycle calls for a dramatic change in temperature to purify the atmosphere, to keep homeostasis in check, to continue to be able to support life. The catch is that only a very diverse ecosystem will be able to survive.

Man belongs to the world, the opposite is not true.

"It was within his grasp to destroy the entire world and to trample all our futures into the dust but he saw the light before it was too late and pulled back. He pulled back and gave the rest of us our chance. He showed us all how it had to be done if the world was to go on being a garden forever. Man was the role model for us all!"
It is a quote from Ishmael, after the narrator makes his revelation. The revelation being that it is not the human races place to control the world. The human race is merely an equal of all other species, we just got a big head because we were the first to evolve higher thought. It was like the human race did not stop to think that all species are evolving and maybe in time some of the other species will begin to develop higher thought. Instead the human race claimed itself the rulers of the planet. The point being that mankind was not, is not the ultimate goal of evolution, in fact evolution has no goal, unless we stop it, it will continue as long as there is variation among a species and time. Unfortunately, we are trying to stop evolution, when any other species becomes an inconvenience to us it is controlled, destroyed, and then a charity is promptly formed to save it. The sick thing is though it is not just other species when something within society is inconvenient we take it upon ourselves to control it for the "greater good." Not only are we stopping evolution through natural selection, but we are destroying earths biodiversity. Problem being as biodiversity shrinks to fit a small window of tolerance the ability for the ecosystem as a whole to survive is dramatically weakened, so an unforeseen disaster now has the potential to not only wipe out an entire species but life in general. Read the book, it makes sense.

The dream perhaps the nightmare

I have been having this reoccurring dream since maybe the beginning of October. The dream starts and I am walking along a tree lined path the period of day is not obvious the sky is colorless, perhaps it doesn't exist, there is no moon, no stars, no sun, no clouds. The trees are leafless but they are beautiful brown, the grass is a yellowish green, the path is dirt. The emotion I feel is calm, I am content as I walk. I look at the sky, or the gray abyss, then down at my feet. As soon as I look back ahead of me I notice I am not longer walking but riding a bike a glance down all I can see is the tire, no bike frame, I am still content. As I go down a hill the sky begins to darken and the trees go black, I am not scared, but I start to feel anxious. I am walking again and the trees begin blowing as if there is a strong wind but I feel no breeze. I feel kind of panicked I try to run, I do run, but I can not seem to run at a pace faster than a jog even though I am in full sprint. The trees begin to thrash violently side to side, left to right in front of me. I turn around, the road is paved but ends three feet behind me. I look ahead again the road is paved, the road is crumbling. I am scared. I look down the road is dirt beneath my feet. I tell myself to run off the path into the woods, I can not make my legs move. The road the trees the grass disappears, I stand alone in darkness on a tiny patch of dirt. The ground beneath my feet disappears, but I do not start to fall, I wake up. Confused and panting, I do not go back to sleep, I day dream and I just see the path lined with black angry trees. I am at a total loss for an explanation.

I figured it out

So I was reading my desk today, my desk is covered in song lyrics and quotes written in sharpie, and I realized what I was trying to tell myself on New Years. I was just reading stuff I had written the summer before senior year and came across this quote, "It is only after we've lost everything that we are free to do anything." I get it now. Everything is holding me back. All the material things I own, all the superficial stuff I claim I enjoy, all the roles I am trying to play, holding me back. I am not saying that I must lose all these ties, but maybe its time to start letting some go. It is like whenever I put my heart to something, something in my head is like but, think of what this person will think. I am not talking about ignoring my conscious, or forgetting about peoples feelings, I am just saying I do not want to convince myself with my warped guilt soaked logic not to do the things I want to do anymore. I originally said I was telling myself that I need to stop hesitating, stop thinking so much, just go with my raw reflexes. I realized this to be kind of selfish and I am trying to not be selfish, but more importantly I realized that going with raw reflexes is naive more than it would be freeing. It would probably get me into trouble and in turn cause me to become more stuck. Here it is the product of three days of thought, and one day of crazy, it is my new years resolution, it is not that good and it is extremely vague, it had to be vague or it might hold me back; Hesitate only when more is at stake then superficial comforts. Basically it means that only when something truly important is at stake of being lost, such as family or mortality, should I need to hesitate past assessing what the situation may cause me to lose. It makes sense, to me.

About New Years

I think I had a mild panic attack, but i am better now. I think. I hope. I think what I was doing was subconsciousnesly making a metaphor out of how I felt about my life. It sounds crazy, but I really can not explain a lot of stuff without one, not even to myself. Yesterday I felt sick to my stomach, hopeless, whatever and I did not really know why, but I did know why I just did not understand why. This is what went down, I was simply through metaphor explaining to myself why I felt the way I felt. I did this by trashing my room, then throwing everything I just trashed away. The problem is I am not crystal clear on what I was trying to explain to myself. I want to believe what I did was not mindless. Anyway, I have constructed some intense reasoning on the incident. I trashed my room because I was pissed at myself, for having spent a year doing nothing but accumulating all this stuff. I threw it away because a lot of it was broken after being thrown around and trashed. I continued to throw things away after all the broken things because either I wanted to forget/get rid of my mistakes or I wanted a fresh start, maybe both. I finally stopped throwing away stuff, when I decided I got my point across. The point I got across being unknown to me. That is the hole in my rationalization of yesterdays events. If I was doing more then something mindless then I must of been trying to tell myself something. I really hope I was trying to tell myself something.