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OBLIVION III.3||if you would comfort me
TITLE|p.s.
Saturday, February 7, 2004
The act of packing deeply depresses me. I always forget about that. I'm about 9/10 done with it, but I've momentarily lost the will to do the job, so now I'm just sitting here with "Kiss Me Deadly" stuck in my head and thinking about how wonderful the past seven weeks have been for me and how some things just won't change, no matter how much you want them to.
God, I'm getting all emo. Somebody kick me in the foetus.
Reading questions
(1) Why does packing make the author depressed?
(2) ESSAY QUESTION: With our limited knowledge of the author's winter term, what can we say about how he has changed, both within himself and in his relationships with others?
(3) What is the author leaving unsaid?
Answer thoughtfully and thoroughly. Answers will not be collected, but remember, this will be on the test.
Number Six on the Lunatic Fringe, signing out - 03:27 a.m.
TITLE|already
Saturday, February 7, 2004
I know it's only been a week and all, but I'm ending this chapter here. I'll start a new one when I get to school.
I'm so in love with Los Angeles and the people here that I really don't want to go back. For the first time since I started school at Oberlin, the desire to stay here is stronger than the desire to go back. That saddens me a little.
I went to the House of Pies with a big ol' crowd of people tonight. It was really great - Chris on one side, Natalie on the other, Piya just on the other side of Natalie. Also in attendance were Piya's boyfriend Gavin, Stephanie, her boyfriend Ben, two of her friends, Matt and his Internet Girlfriend, Ortiz, Dalton, and Heather. Fourteen people in all - good luck, of course.
God damn it. I wanted to hug him goodbye but I chickened out. I don't know if that was good or bad but I'm angry at myself anyway.
Time to pack. Soon I'll be in Helheim again.
Flight 1131
Depart Los Angeles(LAX) at 07:05 AM and
arrive in Cleveland(CLE) at 03:25 PM
Reading questions
(1) Why is the author ending this chapter so quickly?
(2) Why has Natalie suddenly become such an influential force in the author's life?
(3) What is the author leaving unsaid?
Answer thoughtfully and thoroughly. Answers will not be collected, but remember, this will be on the test.
Number Six on the Lunatic Fringe, signing out - 02:08 a.m.
TITLE|yeahso
Friday, February 6, 2004
The smell of sourdough bread is one of my very favourites.
By which I mean that I can't believe the week is almost over and that I'll be back at school soon. School, where Chris and Natalie and Piya aren't.
I have seen Chris almost every single day in the past two weeks. I don't think even I know what this means to me.
I realized while talking with Emily today that a big part of what draws me so intensely to those three kids is how they embody the things in life I hold most dear. Freedom, above all else, is what I value in this world, and they are all free in big and different ways. It goes without saying that they all embody friendship. Natalie embodies purity; Chris embodies adventure; Piya embodies romance.
On Wednesday night, I went out with Chris, Natalie, Matt, and the Internet Girlfriend. While we were getting Matt, Natalie pulled from her pocket of trinkets this piece of cordage with a red fish-shaped bead on it. She tied it around my wrist and I love it quite a bit. I have named it the Red Fish of Friendship and it is the first piece of jewelry in a long time I have really enjoyed wearing (not counting my watch, which I don't really consider jewelry). I doubt I'll take it off often, if ever.
I also remembered to ask Natalie for her address. Now I can write her letters and stay in contact with her while I'm at school. I love writing letters, and Natalie is exactly the kind of person I love writing to.
Drinking in Santa Monica: loud music, stuffy car, silliness outside, pictures, love, joking around. It had been a good while since I had gone drinking without having to worry about driving back. If we don't go drinking to-night as well, it will be my last alcohol until spring break.
I was going to write about how conflicted I feel about the prospect of spending a semester abroad, but I've decided against it.
Reading questions
(1)The author lists freedom, friendship, purity, adventure, and romance as his five virtues. Is it because Dustin had so much of all of these that the author fell for him so hard and so fast?
(2) If so, will he fall likewise if he chances upon another so imbued?
(3) What is the author leaving unsaid?
Answer thoughtfully and thoroughly. Answers will not be collected, but remember, this will be on the test.
Number Six on the Lunatic Fringe, signing out - 02:58 a.m.
TITLE|separation anxiety
Wednesday, February 4, 2004
From noon yesterday, when I went to pick up Chris at his house (which took a fair amount of time, as I had to wake him up twice), until around 2:30 today, I was constantly around people, with the only break coming when I went to bed around seven in the morning. And even that wasn't much of a break. For the past two or three months, I have been dreaming much more vividly and much more frequently than I ever have before. This morning was no exception; even in my sleep I was surrounded by people in my dreams.
This was more being around people than my body likes. In the early afternoon, before Matt and his internet girlfriend left, I was starting to get really twitchy. My back would ache and my neck would get stiff and I felt a really strong urge to go leave, which made me get up and move around a whole lot.
There are people I can be around for a very long time without feeling like this - namely Chris, Nathan, Jennella, and Emily (and probably Natalie, although I've never been around her long enough to test this) - but with anyone else around, my latent antisocial-ness slowly builds up until I want to be the only person on the planet. It's less than fun.
However, after I got the house back to myself, I was able to read and listen to music and go outside and dance in the sun and wind and now I feel fully recharged.
I'm a little down that I'll be losing the sun very soon now. But maybe my plane will crash and I won't have to deal with February in Ohio.
I almost wrote something insightful about myself here, but it'll come out better as nonsense, and I have a separate journal for that.
Number Six on the Lunatic Fringe, signing out - 04:20 p.m.
TITLE|you heard me.
Wednesday, February 4, 2004
Matt's Internet Girlfriend is over at my house, for any number of reasons. I'm still up because, even though Matt left, my mom is out of town, so she (the iGF, not the mother) and Chris and I were able to go out to the park late and stuff. We also sat around drinking tea and talking a lot. I'm on my third cuppa, I believe. Mmm... Yorkshire.
Sitting around talking with people into the wee small hours of the morning makes me really nostalgic for school. Soon I shall see Emily and there will be so much screaming!
Other events today have included the watching (inattentively) of the one and only Esperanto movie - Incubus, starring Bill Shatner himself. Also too much time at army/navy surplus stores where the boots are entirely too expensive. Fuck that.
And I got to see my lil sis. I've barely seen her this break, but it's always great to visit with her. I want to pack her into a Jennella-shaped box and mail her to Ohio. The screams coming from the luggage compartment would only be half the fun.
Jake has cancer. I knew he could do it.
I'm running on at the fingers because I have tea in me and because the telly is boring at this time of day. My stalkers will excuse the babbling.
Natalie didn't pick up her phone when we called tonight. That's a damnshame. I wanted to drive down to her apartment and see her. If I could take Chris and Natalie with me to Ohio, I would be the happiest damn clam in the ocean.
That sentence was stupid.
Adieu.
Number Six on the Lunatic Fringe, signing out - 05:10 a.m.
TITLE|sensibrilliant chuttlefish
Monday, February 2, 2004
Martin and I visited the high school today to say hello to some teachers. It was nice, especially because Mrs. Caswell just gets cooler with age, but it was kinda weird talking with Ms. Rios. And weirder just being there at all. As Martin points out, you're cool when you visit the high school the year after you graduate. In subsequent years, it gets creepier and creepier.
If it weren't for the few people I actually like there, I would have absolutely no desire to return to Ohio; midwestern Februaries are just so desolate.
I'll enjoy it once I'm there, though. There is a certain charm to having so many of my friends in the same building as me and most of the others only a block away. It'd be nice if there were more to do in Ohio, but at least the best entertainment around is easily accessible. I don't want to drive the truck in the snow. Stupid winter.
Also it'll be nice to have classes again. I'm really embarrassed about my grades last term, so I think maybe I'm gonna work this term. Maybe.
Now that I've started writing in this bad boy again, I don't think there'll be any choice but to make it a frequent thing.
Oh Phil Jackson, you crazy you.
Number Six on the Lunatic Fringe, signing out - 06:09 p.m.
TITLE|rabbit rabbit
Sunday, February 1, 2004
It's hard to begin anew - almost as hard as it was to set this chronicle aside for the better part of two months and just live. I don't intend to give more than a cursory telling of what has transpired in that period of time. Here are the important bits:
At school, I began spending more and more time with Emily, Katie, and Drew, which meant leaving the dorm less and staying up late even more. The dynamic is fun and exciting and occasionally wistful.
Much to my relief, I passed Advanced Calculus.
I said goodbye to Jake and Di for at least a semester.
I came home to beautiful California, where my dearest friends live.
I may have seen Natalie more since coming home than I previously had in my entire life. This is a good thing.
I saw the Decemberists play the Echo.
Andy from school visited for a few days. We went on a hike and ran into some wolves.
I have made no attempt to keep up my slightly-more-ascetic lifestyle since coming home; I decided it is for school only.
I went on a hike by myself on an unmaintained trail. It was spectacular.
I had some encounters with the police that soured my generally amiable view of them.
I came to some conclusions about the future of my love life that I will write about if they become relevant.
I did not see Ham, Piya, Stephanie, or Kira nearly enough.
I had many delightful times in Santa Monica in the company of Chris and a changing cast of others, most notably Zack and Ortiz.
I watched far too many videos, but it was worth it because of the people present.
I feel that's plenty. If my stalkers wish to know more, they may ask and I may or may not answer. As a christening, some bad poetry:
Morning ashes
It is irrelevant how much he knew
of the hiding dogma, the stifled breath,
the mad unsaid devotion.
It is irrelevant whether he held the ashes
in his hands this morning,
whether he crushed them beneath his noble nose,
whether he breathed in deep, eyes closed,
whether he noticed the silent aroma
of faraway lilacs that fell in the fire,
whether he smiled his heart-beating smile,
whether or not.
And it is irrelevant that I look at him
and ache for the hundred futures that will not be.
Timber heart
Deep within the timber heart:
a door beyond a door beyond a rational world.
And in that lightless warm forgotten hall
she waits until her heart can find a way
to calm its fevered pounding well enough
to still the shaking tremors in her limbs
that she may grip the knob and turn it hard
and see at last the unseen face of fate
- her arsonist incendiary love -
and stare into its burning umbrous grin.
Deep within the timber heart:
young madame of the soot-and-coal-
and-grey-and-blackened skin -
friend to the starlings,
friend of the fruitbats -
young madame of the charcoal brilliant smile
waits and waits
and tries and tries to move.
And after an immobile blistered year,
with a click and a nothing,
she opens the way to the Charcoal Throneroom,
all white-sap walls and black-soot floors and
warm brown skin and cool brown eyes.
Deep within the timber heart:
the unlit diamonds do not sparkle here:
the dreaming sleepless Prince has fallen here.
And when the Lady turns her head to hear,
the unlit diamonds do not chorus here.
Not knowing how she knows,
she finds his hidden hand and picks him up.
His eyes open.
He takes in a breath.
And that, as they say, is that.
Number Six on the Lunatic Fringe, signing out - 02:30 p.m.
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who||andrew
what||college student with delusions of grandeur
when||nineteen years ago
where||california or ohio
why||purity.adventure.romance
monarchs
chrysalides |
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