Brains!

July 27, 2005

Too many questions. You’re flying too high. I like the sound of a match being lit. I like when you fold hot laundry and the next day its still warm. I like the bruises on my knees. The pictures that I tacked up on my wall are pulling my eyes out slowly it seems. I wish they wouldn’t.

July 31, 2005

I’ve again proved that you always fear what you do not know. I attended my first bible study, not because I wanted to convert, but because I wanted to understand what all these people were talking about, where all these people get their strength. I never really thought it would be scary, but I didn’t think it would be so relaxed either. I realized I could apply a lot of what I read in the bible to my life, but I could also do the same thing using literature and history and other peoples stories and my own. We read a passage that talked about how even though all the crops were dead and there was no water if you kept faith in God you would get through the rough times. It’s just a matter of getting though the wall you hit. I don’t know if I believe in God but I do know if I keep faith in myself and I keep anxiety attacks at bay by not worrying and breathing with my “yogi breath” I can get myself thought things too. I don’t know if I really a bible as much as I just want books, mythology and people to teach me what I know. To help and guide me on my way. But either way I guess it is a good guide for people and a great way to learn lessons and apply them. The only problem is that its all relative and ones perception of a passage or comprehension might be different then another’s, and sometimes that can be dangerous as well as glorious.

On another note I’m driving along Interstate 5 freeway on my way back to the redwoods I missed so much. Except its funny, every time I stay in some place for too long I build new things and then I just have to leave again. Time does not stop, life does not stop. It just teases you gives you just enough time to get something great going and then everything has to change again. I feel like I left one of the most important things I built behind, and I thought I would die from dehydration I cried so much. But I thought about what I had learned this summer, to be positive, that there is such a thing as fate and everything does happen for a reason. I know that it will be all right, and what the hell they’ll visit soon enough. And there’s so much good in what I have taken with me from these places I have left. And I can hardly help but think of a particular everlasting smiling face and I get all warm and happy inside. It helps; I guess it’s the smiling face that’s my strength right now. And the knowledge that everything will turn out all right in the end.

August 2, 2005

I’m in my first apartment. Nice and cheap. Nice and cold, nice and creaky. Heather and I refuse to sleep in our designated rooms, even though my mattress arrived today. Too strange still. She’s reading Harry Potter, and intermediately playing with a lit candle, could be bad. Today we walked from the Southern part of town, arms and backpacks filled with groceries back to our apartment on the North Western edge. It’s a good twenty-minute walk. We looked in St. Vincent DePaul for old furniture, no luck. We did get a couple of teacups, cute and blue, for god knows what reason. But the cold has made us quite the tea drinkers; perhaps they’ll come in handy. James comes next Tuesday. Smiles. My dad left yesterday and now we are just sitting in the emptiness. But I like the place; our building is one of the only ones on the street with flowers in front of our porch. Red and pink poppies, some wild sweet peas and foxgloves are flourishing there. While walking we saw Founders Hall in the distance on top of its mighty old hill. The Arcata Bay away in the distance, muddy and glistening. The fog rolling back towards the ocean through the trees beyond.

August 3, 2005

So we’ve been spreading out our activities, knowing that if we do too much in one day there will not be anything to do the next. It’s so warm today; the fog lost the battle with the hot inland air. So the sky is blue, real blue. And the hum of the city is gone, now its quiet, all I can hear is the neighbors occasionally and the birds. I had forgotten peace like this. This morning I thought about attempting a short story. But I am frightened that if I start the one I want to, it will not be as great as is it could be because I am so out of practice with fictional writing. We’ll see, needs more developing.