Inappropriate

"If they give you ruled paper, write the other way." -Juan Ramon Jiminez

Tuesday, April 27, 2004

An eye for an eye will make the whole world blind, but the whole world so often turns a blind eye...

Sunday, April 18, 2004

Myles is 16 years old. He is fairly small, fairly smart, and fairly asian. Myles can't understand why he can't bring himself to do his homework. He realizes that it is for his benefit, but cannot overcome the laziness within. It is indeed a tragedy. Myles's life, outside of that, has very little tragedy. It also has very little joy. While the paths of others have glorious sunshine and horrible storms, Myles has a slight chance of showers with a cloudburst or two here and there. Myles, as a result of his laziness, has an abundance of free time. He spends this time on the computer, playing solitaire between online chess matches while listening to music. Myles isn't that great at chess, but he enjoys it nonetheless. Myles makes his moves into a routine. He has developed an unwritten algorithm for the game. Most talented players beat him. Despite this, he never throws out the algorithm; rather, he merely tweaks it to make it more effective. Myles tries to make his life fit an algorithm, but his laziness, and the inherent unpredictability of life ruin it for Myles, much to his chagrin. Nevertheless, Myles continues ahead on his dull, straight path.

Saturday, April 17, 2004

If one has a fantastic dream that made one feel warm and special, yet one doesn't remember the dream, was there a dream?

The other day, I found myself at a park with Charles, Marc and Powers. I hadn't been to this park since I was about five, when I lived with my grandmother. My last memory of it was walking quickly past it accross the street with my mom and brother, because we did not want to incur the wrath of the wasps living in the sand there. Marc and I used the seesaw. Yet another memory: sitting on one with my brother. While high in the air, my brother, next to the ground, decides he's done playing.He gets off. My chin hits the metal. Dazed, but no blood. Did not use a seesaw until now.

Powers' house yesterday. I discovered I suck at spinning wars, I have no balance, I am addicted to vanilla chai and boys in girly pants, and [according to Marc] I like crappy music.

There was more, but I's sleepy.

Wednesday, April 14, 2004

Fire/Foe?/Friend?

I wake up, and I recall that Chuck can't drive me, and so the only way in is Mom, and she hates being late...so I'm like fuck it, whatever...but the I think, this is stupid, it's an easy Day 1, why miss today, etc. So I take my shit and go into school. Period 2 of chemistry is nice, right when i burn my thumb and forefinger with a hot test tube (was sort of my fault, ok, it was my fault, but i didn't go to grab it or anything while it was on top of the burner) so the nurse helped me soothe/heal that shit, although I'm typing with a big stupid bandage on my thumb. At lunch I asked the Indian snack lady if I could exchange my half-drank iced-tea for 50 cents. She told me to go home and see if I could talk to my own mother like that. I swear, if you can't even think up a good comeback, learn English so you know what I'm asking. Stats was hilarious because I got a 20 on that quiz. A fucking 20. Mike got 30, we couldn't stop laughing.

Report Cards came today. Turns out I failed Spanish. I almost laughed it was so absurd that I let it get so bad. "Yeah, well, your mother failed at staying alive. ::spite, spite, spite::" (I'm horrible, I know.) I was thinking of how to hide the report card and at the same time not have to worry about them asking me where it is when they realize it's been too long for no card to have come...so I burn the motherfucker. However, when I was with Dr. Sperling (FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO MIGHT BE CURIOUS, I SEE A HEAD DOCTOR, WINK WINK) my Dad said he actually didn't mind not seeing the report card. (I have yet to tell my dad I burned it, but he probably knows.) Sperling and I talked, and after talking to him, I usually feel pretty confident. So with that new confidence, I promptly came home and played TyperShark. You listen to me. I'm great at that game. You could send real sharks at me, in real life, and provided a keyboard, I would type their asses to shit. I mean it.

I'm going to pick up bass soon, hopefully. Upright-string bass (from the school, maybe?), and if I can, an electric 4 string. A lot of variety in this stuff I didn't know about.

Sunday, April 11, 2004

My Metacognitive Self-Organizing Dream, April 10-11

It was a beautiful day, but there was not a soul to be seen. No birds, no bugs, just grass - a forest on the far side of the empty field on which I stood. I stood with two others, a girl about my age, and with a guy in his early 20s. Both Caucasian, both brown haired. We were running away from a building that felt like a school of some sort, somewhat resembling a building I went to middle school in. We three were walking away from the building – but the farther away from the building and the closer we got to the forest, the more we felt we shouldn’t be there, the less time we felt we had, the faster we ran. It became clear that I had to get to the forest, and we had to hide. We got somewhat far into the forest and hid under the herbage and foliage.
After beginning to feel calm, I felt the presence of soldiers, standing upright while we hid below. As I was beginning to plan my escape, several tanks came in silence, making tremendous noise only upon their detection. I immediately lost my feeling of connection to the female character (in other words, my mental “tabs” on here were lost and she was taken for dead, “out of sight, out of mind” or in this case “out of mind, out of sight”) and I saw the male I was traveling with get crushed by a tank. The last thing I saw was another tank crush my head and my life end (from an external perspective).

For some reason, instead of waking up in a cold sweat or feeling horror at my death, I lost visual focus (don’t remember seeing anything, just black and thinking) and wanted to understand. I wanted to understand why I felt like I shouldn’t be where I was, who the people with me were, what the military was doing, and what motivated our murderers. Going forward, I felt, was not the answer. I had to go back. I then started my dream from an earlier point in the plot, so that I could work forwards and understand everything about the circumstances surrounding my death.

I was in a spacecraft that had just landed, the main feature of which were two massive garage type doors similar to those that you would see on NASA’s Vehicle Assembly Building. Behind those doors was a massive garage that stretched far up. The room was huge, and from there, three of the people from the ship left to explore the area, two of them being the people that died with me. Another person stayed behind with me, a girl I believe, who was of no consequence or former knowledge of mine. After they had left and been gone a while, I went into the garage.
A giant creature, the only living creature besides people I had seen during the dream then began running from across the field in front of our ship. I ran into the main part of the ship (which was very tall and well light, generally white and light blue) and ran away along the wall that the inner door was on. The girl I was with presumably (I didn’t have mental tabs on her) was killed by the creature, but I managed to kill it by closing the metal door (the kind that closes when the top comes down and the bottom goes up, with metal interlocking teeth) from a switch down the hall. I decided to then join the people I was with. I radioed them, and they met me just outside the ship.
We walked across a hilly cemetery, which had many large dark green bushes. The day was still strikingly beautiful. There was a slight feeling of worry that we shouldn’t be on the planet. We crossed through the cemetery, which didn’t bear the emotional weight of death or the eeriness that accompanies it, but instead felt like it was very much like that open field I traveled through just before dying, like there was nowhere to hide.
Next I can remember, we were in (close to the edge of, I don’t remember entering it like I don’t remember entering the forest, but remember being in, but not being far into it, just as the forest. It strikes many parallels with the forest in that sense) a massively built up but destroyed city, with buildings that seemed to go up no shorter than 50 stories. The city was laid out in a grid, and it was a beautiful day, which made the fact that the paint on the buildings was all gone and everything was a worn cement color, with glass broken everywhere and the streets covered with debris. The oddest part, which became abundantly clear, was that there was no sign of life having resided in this city for decades, if not hundreds of years. There were no bugs, there were no plants, no signs of any life. Everything was mute in eerie stillness. From this point, somewhere in the city the fourth person in our party was silently, inexplicably, mentally un-“tabbed” and forgotten. The party had been reduced to three, and we had realized that some armed force has destroyed the city to protect some secret in the city, beyond the boundaries and inside the safety of a forest.
We were traveling back across the graveyard and back towards the spacecraft to leave the planet, and stop and duck in our tracks. I saw a small group of soldiers standing outside of our ship’s massive garage doors. Facing the cold realization that there was no escape, we then faced the realization that we were trapped somewhere we didn’t want to be. The way out, we reasoned, was through. We meant to hide in the woods, and then to try to make it through the woods to see what was hidden in the center that had cost us our lives.

I was back at the beginning of the dream. The overlap seemed exact for several moments. As we approached the forest, I began to question my doom, and wished to find a way to change it. Looking at the people I was running with, I decided that we should stay and fight, and not hide this second time around.

We took metal spears and punched them through the soldiers’ head and faces when they approached, as they circled us from all around. We killed soldier after silent soldier, until the girl I was fighting with was killed, and soon after the male. I stayed alive to finish off the final soldiers, and then came to the center of the forest where there was a clearing.

Up until this point in the dream, nobody I had seen resembled a person I know. In the clearing, as soldiers, I saw two girls and a guy sitting on a wooden log. It was dusk now, and becoming night. I moved forward and slashed the metal rod through the male’s head, and then through one of the top of one of the girl’s head. I realized then, that this was Christina Chicas, whom I had hung out with that day. I pulled the rod from the top of her head.
I felt guilty about doing this, and had hoped that she would not die. We began to talk, and I don’t remember what we said, but I sat down next to her and talked, thinking about how the wound must have been fatal. I sat with her and the other girl I know but can not remember on the log, surrounded by the bodies of soldiers and comrades in the darkening twilight, watching the moon rise. I was left alive, an enemy that was now a friend was left alive, and the one who had changed the silent enemy into a friend was left neither dead nor alive, but the walking dead, out in limbo, speaking.

Wednesday, April 07, 2004

Well... somebody had to blog again. I refuse to let this die. This is a cool thing we have going. Let's see. It seems like ages. I usually can look at this thing to see what's been going on in my life, but we've all let it sit here. I started health. It seems like it will be a long boring two and a half months. Hluchan is a funny name. Hluchan has a funny voice. I realize that I have become very Zen, or aloof. These days, nothing really gets to me. My range of emotions is smaller than most people's. I don't think I've cried for any reason since middle school. I thought that was normal until recently. And no, I didn't cry when I found out. Maybe that's why I'm not good at making decisions or expressing my opinion. Because I have no opinion. Realizing this makes me question past statements and emotions. And what exactly is emotion anyway? Why were humans born with the ability to feel? What advantage has it given them? All this makes me think of Equilibrium. Was that really a "happy" ending? I probably seem all philisophical right now. Or maybe just stupid. And maybe insecure now.

SOMEBODY ELSE BLOG NOW