Now that everyone has left, maybe I can return to some of the integrity of my earlier posts.
I've been in Washington DC for the presidential scholar program. On the surface, it was really fun. We had a lot of fancy catered dinners; we were spoken to by a lot of high-up government people; we listened to a performance of the arts scholars at the Kennedy center and looked at their work in the art museum; we ate a lot of dessert; we were shuttled all over DC for workshops; we met with the president.
The president, despite everything he's doing that I don't agree with, seemed like a really nice guy. He was really nice to us. I know that's his job, but I believe that it's genuine. No matter how badly I think he's screwed things up, I do believe he has integrity.
I signed a petition the morning before we met him (Monday) that ended up causing a lot of problems. I don't really want to talk about it, but here is the link. It's also in the UK news, and the kids appeared on the CNN morning show.
I guess that all of that is important, but it doesn't really matter. The petition was an attempt to make a difference which may or may not have had the potential to be effective or been in the appropriate forum. Ultimately, it had both intended and unintended consequences. I guess it's probably the most political involvement I'll have in my life.
I went to the program in a pretty messed up state. I was starting to lose it at the end of the week in Wichita, and when Amanda etc. had to leave me alone in the hotel for a night, I was really worried. I kept myself extremely occupied though watching "Heroes" and reading The Fabric of the Cosmos. I got myself to the airport in the morning, and I got myself to DC. Things were better after that.
Everyone in the program was really nice. They were a really smart, talented bunch of kids, but noboday acted supercillious in any way. It was the inverse of CPW. It was really easy to make a lot of good friends quickly. I was doing a thought experiment the whole time, pretending I was at MIT, and I wouldn't see any of my friends for months. By the end of the four days, I realized that I had built a friend group for myself that I could settle into and be happy in. That was important to me, because it meant I'll be okay in the fall.
Of course, things have still been up and down. Most days I get urges, and I fight them for a while, and then I decide to give in, because it feels like the buildup of pressure is unendurable. I try to think of ways to explain it to people that will find out, but I quit caring about finding an alternative. All I want is to release that pressure. So far I have successfully wasted time until the magnamity of the urge faded, but it still feels as if all of the cumulative pressure is building. Lately about once a day I have gotten really suicidal. It's never really for any reason. It just happens. And for a few hours or however long it takes, I struggle in some tangible, sticky darkness, waiting. I always have to wait. I just have to wait for it to go away, try to have that it will, do things to keep myself from acting on it while it's happening.
On the bright side, overall things are going pretty well, I think. I'm working a lot, which sucks, but whatever. I'm being really social as well. I'm also going to teach myself AP physics and try to get to the end of my linear algebra and differential equations books so I'm ready for school. I'm wasting time on Facebook. I got a checking account today, and the guy wouldn't believe I was eighteen until I showed him my ID (but I was wearing my glasses, which make me look younger). I got a free telescope with the account, which I tried to use to look at the near-full moon tonight, but the moon went behind some stupid trees. I'm going to Canada with Jo, Siobhan, Erin, and Kyrstin in three weeks, and apparently I'll be the only one not drinking (which should be interesting), although they don't plan on getting drunk or anything (they'd better not). I'm spending a lot of time with Pat, which is fun. I still live with the guilt of everything that happened with Josh everyday, but I'm learning to deal with it. I don't think it will go away for a long while yet. I'm still working on forgiving myself so I can really live with myself again. I've quit drinking caffeine.
I was really worried about my weight with all of the desserts I ate in DC, but I weighed the same when I got back. I met this girl in DC from Arizona that was the same height as me, but she was really thin, I thought. Then I saw on her drivers' license that she's the same weight as me, which was really weird, because I don't think I look anywhere near as thin as her. In fact, the whole time I was gone, and I thought I was losing weight, my image of myself stretched. I looked fatter and fatter... now I know it wasn't accurate, because I weighed the same. I don't know what I can trust. I don't know if my images are distorted. It's so frustrating.
I went running today, three miles, at 12:30, and it was about ninety eight degrees out. I think I almost got heat stroke or something, because as I was finishing the last mile I really felt like I was going to pass out, and with every step I took the whole world became really tilted and have-black around me. Apparently midday is not a good time for running.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
if i could tell you, i'd say this
The little boy on the hill
with his eyes as green as grass
and his hands like pale, blue-veined leaves
sees wolves every day
slip among the sheep,
their dark gray forms
bleeding into the white.
His voice used to shatter
the early morning silence
in the village with the roofs
of thatched, crossed hay.
The people woke up with bleary faces,
stumbling out of modest homes,
fear like blazed glass.
WOLF WOLF WOLF!
and then the echo against the sea
WOLF
WOLF
WOLF........
The all stood next to the boy
on the emerald-grass hill
and looked down on the sheep
in the quiet breath of dawn.
There were no wolves that they could see,
and the boy with eyes like grass
stood alone against their ridicule
and cried at the memory
of gray against the white.
It happened six times,
the terror-driven mornings
and the boy silhouette framed by the sea,
the white of the sheep and the white of the waves
but no gray, no fur, just wool.
He felt alone then,
and crazy,
and every time he swore was the last.
The little boy on the hill
with his eyes as green as grass
and his hands like pale, blue-veined leaves
sees wolves every day
slip among the sheep,
their dark gray forms
bleeding into the white.
He doesn't tell them anymore.
He knows they cannot see.
But he lives every day with the reality
of his own terror,
the metronome of his fear
against the quiet drone of sea.
with his eyes as green as grass
and his hands like pale, blue-veined leaves
sees wolves every day
slip among the sheep,
their dark gray forms
bleeding into the white.
His voice used to shatter
the early morning silence
in the village with the roofs
of thatched, crossed hay.
The people woke up with bleary faces,
stumbling out of modest homes,
fear like blazed glass.
WOLF WOLF WOLF!
and then the echo against the sea
WOLF
WOLF
WOLF........
The all stood next to the boy
on the emerald-grass hill
and looked down on the sheep
in the quiet breath of dawn.
There were no wolves that they could see,
and the boy with eyes like grass
stood alone against their ridicule
and cried at the memory
of gray against the white.
It happened six times,
the terror-driven mornings
and the boy silhouette framed by the sea,
the white of the sheep and the white of the waves
but no gray, no fur, just wool.
He felt alone then,
and crazy,
and every time he swore was the last.
The little boy on the hill
with his eyes as green as grass
and his hands like pale, blue-veined leaves
sees wolves every day
slip among the sheep,
their dark gray forms
bleeding into the white.
He doesn't tell them anymore.
He knows they cannot see.
But he lives every day with the reality
of his own terror,
the metronome of his fear
against the quiet drone of sea.
When I didn't break yesterday after I was somewhat expecting to, we talked a lot about whether it's better to be really close to something you really want, or to be a long ways away. Namely, four of the six people I debated broke, and the prospects for my number of ballots were rather grim. I was thinking about whether it would be worse if I had gotten two ballots or seven (one less than the required number to move on to double eliminations). I finally decided that although I would be really frustrated with getting seven ballots, it wouldn't be worse than getting two.
I went into rounds five and six yesterday pretty confidently. I was sure that I'd at least split round five, and I was almost 100% sure that I'd won both ballots for round six. From my estimates, I thought I probably had eight or nine ballots. I think I probably deserved eight. I didn't deserve any from the first round, but after that I think I did a lot better.
Amanda looked at the numbers of ballots today. I split the first round (got one ballot). I won the second round (two). I split the third round (one), won the fourth (two), split the fifth (one). So going into the sixth round, I had seven ballots. I only needed to split the sixth round, and so far I hadn't lost a single round. But of course I didn't know that at the time.
I was my usual self in the sixth round. I went fast; I read a lot of cards; I had a lot of evidence and examples. One of my judges didn't write anything down the whole time, but one, a former policy debater, was flowing. My opponant was spread in her rebuttal, and she didn't have time to address the majority of my points. Objectively, I think that I clearly won the debate on many fronts. There were many debates this tournament that I definitely didn't clearly win. But I think the two that I did clearly win were round two and round six.
But, alas, it doesn't work out that way, does it? The sixth round was the only round that I absolutely had to win at least one ballot, and it's the *only* round that I lost. It sucks.
I'm okay. I'll move on. Amanda got ten ballots at nats, and I got seven. All I wanted was to make her proud, and I think I was close enough to her ten ballots. I know I should have broken, but life doesn't work that way sometimes. For the first time, really, after a frustrating thing like this happening, I feel okay. My very last round of LD ever kind of sucked, and high school debate is over, but it's okay. Really.
All I can say is, those judges from sixth round had better have a dang good reason to drop me.
I went into rounds five and six yesterday pretty confidently. I was sure that I'd at least split round five, and I was almost 100% sure that I'd won both ballots for round six. From my estimates, I thought I probably had eight or nine ballots. I think I probably deserved eight. I didn't deserve any from the first round, but after that I think I did a lot better.
Amanda looked at the numbers of ballots today. I split the first round (got one ballot). I won the second round (two). I split the third round (one), won the fourth (two), split the fifth (one). So going into the sixth round, I had seven ballots. I only needed to split the sixth round, and so far I hadn't lost a single round. But of course I didn't know that at the time.
I was my usual self in the sixth round. I went fast; I read a lot of cards; I had a lot of evidence and examples. One of my judges didn't write anything down the whole time, but one, a former policy debater, was flowing. My opponant was spread in her rebuttal, and she didn't have time to address the majority of my points. Objectively, I think that I clearly won the debate on many fronts. There were many debates this tournament that I definitely didn't clearly win. But I think the two that I did clearly win were round two and round six.
But, alas, it doesn't work out that way, does it? The sixth round was the only round that I absolutely had to win at least one ballot, and it's the *only* round that I lost. It sucks.
I'm okay. I'll move on. Amanda got ten ballots at nats, and I got seven. All I wanted was to make her proud, and I think I was close enough to her ten ballots. I know I should have broken, but life doesn't work that way sometimes. For the first time, really, after a frustrating thing like this happening, I feel okay. My very last round of LD ever kind of sucked, and high school debate is over, but it's okay. Really.
All I can say is, those judges from sixth round had better have a dang good reason to drop me.
Monday, June 18, 2007
So far, so mediocre. Things are going alright. I didn't throw up during the first round, which was posing as a significant possibility before I went in. It's so hot here and so easy to get dehydrated that it's also easy to feel like you're about to throw up or faint if you add the stress of anxiety.
I won't venture to tell you how I think I'm doing just in case I am not doing anywhere near how I think, but I have an idea that I think is accurate, and I think I'm doing alright.
People at nats aren't any better than people in Montana. Some are worse. At least of the people I've hit.
I won't venture to tell you how I think I'm doing just in case I am not doing anywhere near how I think, but I have an idea that I think is accurate, and I think I'm doing alright.
People at nats aren't any better than people in Montana. Some are worse. At least of the people I've hit.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
rock that crap...
T minus eleven hours and forty-three minutes...
I can believe in myself. Sure. Sure I can.
I can risk doing my best at the cost of losing. Sure. Sure. Sure.
I can believe in myself. Sure. Sure I can.
I can risk doing my best at the cost of losing. Sure. Sure. Sure.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
leaving
I'm off to NFL's and national recognition week.
If I meet the president, I'm not kicking him in the shin. However, if I am unable to suppress my whims, you will most likely see me on the news.
:-)
If I meet the president, I'm not kicking him in the shin. However, if I am unable to suppress my whims, you will most likely see me on the news.
:-)
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
It is a whirlwind of bird's wings
and the hollow bones that whistle
the songs of humanities
that have lived and died for this...
I want to find one child
and give her everything she deserves
and protect her from the maelstrom
and keep her eyes dry...
I want to find you in the wind
and pluck you out
and protect you from it all
I want to take last summer
and the way the sun set in your eyes
to fill your cheeks with the blush of nighttime
and give it to that child inside of you
It is a whirwind of bird's wings
and the hollow bones that whistle
the songs of humanities
that have lived and died for you...
[I want you to be safe here
in the eye]
and the hollow bones that whistle
the songs of humanities
that have lived and died for this...
I want to find one child
and give her everything she deserves
and protect her from the maelstrom
and keep her eyes dry...
I want to find you in the wind
and pluck you out
and protect you from it all
I want to take last summer
and the way the sun set in your eyes
to fill your cheeks with the blush of nighttime
and give it to that child inside of you
It is a whirwind of bird's wings
and the hollow bones that whistle
the songs of humanities
that have lived and died for you...
[I want you to be safe here
in the eye]
Sunday, June 10, 2007
free falling
I see that I haven't written much lately.
I haven't quite gotten the skydiving pictures ready, which is why I haven't posted, so I'm just going to post without them. I'll get them eventually.
As for skydiving- yes, I think it helped symbolically with my fear, but not as significantly as I had hoped because I wasn't really afraid. The only time I felt any sort of fear clenching in me was when the plane was one hundred feet off the ground, because I looked out the open door at the country side near Kalispell and I thought, this is the last thing those people saw before they crashed. I felt very close to them, for an instant, to be experiencing almost exactly the last thing they experienced.
Being close to death is almost a spiritual experience for me, because I think that the moment I am closest to death is the exact moment that death seems the least real. All of the times I have come close to killing myself have been times when my own mortality has seemed so superficial. I felt kind of the same way on the skydiving plane. It is as if when I am closest to death, I can't see it, can't feel it, can't sense it in any way empirically, but can only try to convince myself of the knowledge of its existence in the absence of any proof.
The plane went a bit higher though and the strange feeling went away, and as we climbed up until the air blowing into the plane was cold, all of my senses seemed to deaden and I was washed over with calm. It wasn't dissociation (I promised myself I wouldn't let myself dissociate), it was just that profound disconnection that I experience occasionally when I am looking in the mirror and realize with a start that the reflection is supposed to be a reflection of some aspect of me, when in my mind it seems so alien and disconnected. The whole skydiving experience was a bit alien and disconnected. I didn't feel any butterflies in my stomach or anything as the instructor tightened me to him. The inevitability of jumping out of the plane at that point was comforting enough to assauge my fear. We shoudln't fear the inevitable. There is no changing it.
As we scooted to the door of the plane and my legs hung out over like 11,000 feet of nothingness, I felt that displacement that I feel whenever I fly. We had no location. In our movement, we were positionless, just as an electron is bound by the uncertainty principle. I was about to drop out of a plane, and for about five minutes I would almost cease to exist.
The fear was never there. My instructor counted to three, and I waited, excited but not nervous. We were flung from the plane. We flipped a few times before stabilizing. My hands shot out. I was suddenly, in a great wash, reminded of everything I had to love and live for. I realized how much I care when I felt how terribly badly I wanted that parachute to open. There is nothing like the possibility of death (more real as I fell than it felt in the plane) to make you appreciate life more.
Free fall was fun, but I didn't feel like I was falling. Nobody has, as yet, offered me a plausible explanation for this. If I close my eyes on a roller coaster, I feel as if I am falling, even if I don't have my eyes open for the frame of reference. With my eyes open or closed skydiving, I don't feel that falling sensation. I logically know I am falling, and the air pillows up around me as with each second my velocity increases by 9.8 m/s, but I don't feel it. There should be no difference between that and the roller coaster with my eyes shut. If anything, I should feel more like I am falling while skydiving because I am going so much faster. But I don't. Why?
I got a little a motion sick under canopy, but not terribly, as I had taken Dramamine (forgive my tense inconsistencies; I feel like my narration should be random today). When we turned, the leg straps kind of hurt my thighs, but it was okay. It was like parasailing at that point; fun, exciting. In fact the whole experience was fun and exciting, but not really a thrill. Some people I know get a big thrill out of skydiving; my brother and my aunt do, for instance. It wasn't really that exciting for me. It was something I am glad that I did, and something that was fun, but it was not nearly as fun or exciting as bungee jumping.
As for life since then... it's been fun. I only have a few days before I leave for Kansas for nationals, and I honestly am nowhere near ready. I have written three cases and started plowing through some articles on color revolutions, mostly contemporary ones in former "states" of the USSR, but other than that, I am extremely behind. I should be making briefs right now, but I can't get myself to. It's like with graduation came the cessation of any kind of work. I have mostly just been hanging out with Pat and Erin and other people and neglecting any semblence of work (except my actual job) entirely.
I still think about Josh a lot, and about hurting him the way that I did, and I try to reconcile it all in my mind but I can't. The passion or lust or whatever that I had for him kind of faded away with the intensity of our relationship, but I wish I could explain to him that I still care about him infinitely, that I still love him intensely in the way that I love Erin. I'm not sure how I can fix any damage I have created, and I don't know if it would be fair if I did know how, but there it is. Life's like that, sometimes, I guess. That's what my counselor said when I was lamenting to her about hurting Josh. She said, sometimes it just goes like that.
I sincerely hope that it doesn't "just go like that," that hurting people is never inevitable or necessary. I never want to hurt anyone again the way that I hurt Josh. But I guess I have to find it in me to keep going.
I have been feeling kind of off lately. I'm still sorting through the causes within myself. I have felt a lot of urges to self injure, but I have been fighting them valliantly. I hope that they go away though. It seems as if they are just increasing in intensity sometimes.
I'm going to go cut out briefs now. Really, I am.
I haven't quite gotten the skydiving pictures ready, which is why I haven't posted, so I'm just going to post without them. I'll get them eventually.
As for skydiving- yes, I think it helped symbolically with my fear, but not as significantly as I had hoped because I wasn't really afraid. The only time I felt any sort of fear clenching in me was when the plane was one hundred feet off the ground, because I looked out the open door at the country side near Kalispell and I thought, this is the last thing those people saw before they crashed. I felt very close to them, for an instant, to be experiencing almost exactly the last thing they experienced.
Being close to death is almost a spiritual experience for me, because I think that the moment I am closest to death is the exact moment that death seems the least real. All of the times I have come close to killing myself have been times when my own mortality has seemed so superficial. I felt kind of the same way on the skydiving plane. It is as if when I am closest to death, I can't see it, can't feel it, can't sense it in any way empirically, but can only try to convince myself of the knowledge of its existence in the absence of any proof.
The plane went a bit higher though and the strange feeling went away, and as we climbed up until the air blowing into the plane was cold, all of my senses seemed to deaden and I was washed over with calm. It wasn't dissociation (I promised myself I wouldn't let myself dissociate), it was just that profound disconnection that I experience occasionally when I am looking in the mirror and realize with a start that the reflection is supposed to be a reflection of some aspect of me, when in my mind it seems so alien and disconnected. The whole skydiving experience was a bit alien and disconnected. I didn't feel any butterflies in my stomach or anything as the instructor tightened me to him. The inevitability of jumping out of the plane at that point was comforting enough to assauge my fear. We shoudln't fear the inevitable. There is no changing it.
As we scooted to the door of the plane and my legs hung out over like 11,000 feet of nothingness, I felt that displacement that I feel whenever I fly. We had no location. In our movement, we were positionless, just as an electron is bound by the uncertainty principle. I was about to drop out of a plane, and for about five minutes I would almost cease to exist.
The fear was never there. My instructor counted to three, and I waited, excited but not nervous. We were flung from the plane. We flipped a few times before stabilizing. My hands shot out. I was suddenly, in a great wash, reminded of everything I had to love and live for. I realized how much I care when I felt how terribly badly I wanted that parachute to open. There is nothing like the possibility of death (more real as I fell than it felt in the plane) to make you appreciate life more.
Free fall was fun, but I didn't feel like I was falling. Nobody has, as yet, offered me a plausible explanation for this. If I close my eyes on a roller coaster, I feel as if I am falling, even if I don't have my eyes open for the frame of reference. With my eyes open or closed skydiving, I don't feel that falling sensation. I logically know I am falling, and the air pillows up around me as with each second my velocity increases by 9.8 m/s, but I don't feel it. There should be no difference between that and the roller coaster with my eyes shut. If anything, I should feel more like I am falling while skydiving because I am going so much faster. But I don't. Why?
I got a little a motion sick under canopy, but not terribly, as I had taken Dramamine (forgive my tense inconsistencies; I feel like my narration should be random today). When we turned, the leg straps kind of hurt my thighs, but it was okay. It was like parasailing at that point; fun, exciting. In fact the whole experience was fun and exciting, but not really a thrill. Some people I know get a big thrill out of skydiving; my brother and my aunt do, for instance. It wasn't really that exciting for me. It was something I am glad that I did, and something that was fun, but it was not nearly as fun or exciting as bungee jumping.
As for life since then... it's been fun. I only have a few days before I leave for Kansas for nationals, and I honestly am nowhere near ready. I have written three cases and started plowing through some articles on color revolutions, mostly contemporary ones in former "states" of the USSR, but other than that, I am extremely behind. I should be making briefs right now, but I can't get myself to. It's like with graduation came the cessation of any kind of work. I have mostly just been hanging out with Pat and Erin and other people and neglecting any semblence of work (except my actual job) entirely.
I still think about Josh a lot, and about hurting him the way that I did, and I try to reconcile it all in my mind but I can't. The passion or lust or whatever that I had for him kind of faded away with the intensity of our relationship, but I wish I could explain to him that I still care about him infinitely, that I still love him intensely in the way that I love Erin. I'm not sure how I can fix any damage I have created, and I don't know if it would be fair if I did know how, but there it is. Life's like that, sometimes, I guess. That's what my counselor said when I was lamenting to her about hurting Josh. She said, sometimes it just goes like that.
I sincerely hope that it doesn't "just go like that," that hurting people is never inevitable or necessary. I never want to hurt anyone again the way that I hurt Josh. But I guess I have to find it in me to keep going.
I have been feeling kind of off lately. I'm still sorting through the causes within myself. I have felt a lot of urges to self injure, but I have been fighting them valliantly. I hope that they go away though. It seems as if they are just increasing in intensity sometimes.
I'm going to go cut out briefs now. Really, I am.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
eerie
Skydiving was fun. I'll write more and post pictures later.
Right now I decided to investigate something really eerie that I have been noticing: the number of plane crashes in the past year or so. I have been noticing that there seem to be a ton of plane crashes recently, and every time I comment on it to someone, another plane crash appears in the paper the next day.
So here's the role:
ComAir Flight 5191, August 2006
Brazilian Boeing, September 2006
Private plane in NYC, October 2006
Nigerian plane, October 2006
Indonesian Boeing, December 2006
Great Falls Mercy Flight, February 2007
Bozeman medical plane, February 2007
Indonesian jetliner, March 2007
Russian plane, March 2007
Blue Angels crash, April 2007
Kenya crash, May 2007
Dillon Cessna, May 2007
Ohio midair crash, May 2007
Kalispell Skydive plane, May 2007
Malstrom Snowbird, May 2007
Peru civilian plane, May 2007
Canadian acrobatic plane, May 2007
Elkhorn private plane, May 2007
Medical Transplant plane, June 2007
California plane, June 2007
Those are just most of the local and significant global and national plane crashes that have occurred. Maybe I'm not right in this, but it seems like at least locally the number of planes that have crashed this year has been quite a bit higher than in previous years. I remember that about a month ago (slightly more), I told Pat I thought a lot of planes were crashing this year, and the the next day the Blue Angels crash was in the news, and then the Kenya crash, and then the skydiving crash here, and then the crash in the paper this morning.
It seems weird to me.
Right now I decided to investigate something really eerie that I have been noticing: the number of plane crashes in the past year or so. I have been noticing that there seem to be a ton of plane crashes recently, and every time I comment on it to someone, another plane crash appears in the paper the next day.
So here's the role:
ComAir Flight 5191, August 2006
Brazilian Boeing, September 2006
Private plane in NYC, October 2006
Nigerian plane, October 2006
Indonesian Boeing, December 2006
Great Falls Mercy Flight, February 2007
Bozeman medical plane, February 2007
Indonesian jetliner, March 2007
Russian plane, March 2007
Blue Angels crash, April 2007
Kenya crash, May 2007
Dillon Cessna, May 2007
Ohio midair crash, May 2007
Kalispell Skydive plane, May 2007
Malstrom Snowbird, May 2007
Peru civilian plane, May 2007
Canadian acrobatic plane, May 2007
Elkhorn private plane, May 2007
Medical Transplant plane, June 2007
California plane, June 2007
Those are just most of the local and significant global and national plane crashes that have occurred. Maybe I'm not right in this, but it seems like at least locally the number of planes that have crashed this year has been quite a bit higher than in previous years. I remember that about a month ago (slightly more), I told Pat I thought a lot of planes were crashing this year, and the the next day the Blue Angels crash was in the news, and then the Kenya crash, and then the skydiving crash here, and then the crash in the paper this morning.
It seems weird to me.
Friday, June 01, 2007
facing fear
I'm going to go skydiving on Monday. I am afraid because just a few weeks ago a plane from the skydiving place I'm going crashed, killing four or five people, two of whom Erin knew. It seems bizarre to me that real people die in plane crashes. Actually, maybe it just seems bizarre to me that real people die.
But I want to go, not only because I've heard it's really fun, but because I cannot live in fear. When it comes to things like cliff diving and bungee jumping, I have always been terrified, but I have found that some logical corner of me is stronger than my terror. I'm afraid of heights, but I still do these things.
I think that I believe that if I can conquer my fear of heights (and plane crashes and the parachute not opening and just jumping out of a plane), I can conquer my fear of going crazy again this summer by thinking too much, going crazy again in general, being alone next year, moving across the country, etc. Skydiving is symbollic. If I can skydive, I can live, no matter how frightened and panicked life makes me.
Tomorrow is my graduation, and I guess that in a long-term way, I'm kind of frightened of that as well. It is also symbollic. I am no longer a child, no longer protected. Never again in my life will anyone have the obligation to take care of me (but myself). And I think that scares me, because in a way I feel nobody ever did take care of me, and now that I am an adult, it will for sure never happen. I never got a chance to be dependent. I think I needed that.
On the materialistic front, I got some Birkenstocks that I've wanted for four years, some headphones, and a lot of money for graduation. I will probably save the money for my Canada trip with my friends in July.
I don't want to be afraid anymore.
But I want to go, not only because I've heard it's really fun, but because I cannot live in fear. When it comes to things like cliff diving and bungee jumping, I have always been terrified, but I have found that some logical corner of me is stronger than my terror. I'm afraid of heights, but I still do these things.
I think that I believe that if I can conquer my fear of heights (and plane crashes and the parachute not opening and just jumping out of a plane), I can conquer my fear of going crazy again this summer by thinking too much, going crazy again in general, being alone next year, moving across the country, etc. Skydiving is symbollic. If I can skydive, I can live, no matter how frightened and panicked life makes me.
Tomorrow is my graduation, and I guess that in a long-term way, I'm kind of frightened of that as well. It is also symbollic. I am no longer a child, no longer protected. Never again in my life will anyone have the obligation to take care of me (but myself). And I think that scares me, because in a way I feel nobody ever did take care of me, and now that I am an adult, it will for sure never happen. I never got a chance to be dependent. I think I needed that.
On the materialistic front, I got some Birkenstocks that I've wanted for four years, some headphones, and a lot of money for graduation. I will probably save the money for my Canada trip with my friends in July.
I don't want to be afraid anymore.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
recount
I don't have the energy to adequately explain what has happened over the past few weeks. So I will briefly go over it.
I'm assuming Josh is no longer reading this blog. Josh, if you are reading it, I am assuming from now on that you are not.
I broke up with Josh because it wasn't working. Maybe it was never working, but my undelying love for him was so great that it was able to overcome the problems. Things just broke after prom. I couldn't do it anymore. I hit a weakness inside of me that I was no longer willing to overcome. I was no longer willing to be exhausted, pushed aside by my self-created obligations. I cried for a long time before I told Josh that I needed to take a break.
I started dating Patrick, and I was happier than I'd been in years. I felt free, liberated after years of imprisonment. It was hard because I felt terrible about Josh, but I felt like for the first time I was doing something for me, not Josh. That made me feel both terribly selfish and terribly in control.
One night I talked to Josh, and I was able to try to explain the way I had always felt, and I think that for the first time, he really understood. We agreed to just be friends. The days after that felt absolutely complete. I could finally talk to Josh.
However (and this I will probably never explain on this blog), my relationship with Pat ended up hurting Josh (understandably), so that the pain I guess overcame his friendship for me. Last night he got justifiably really upset, and he called me a whore and said I never cared about him, that I'm selfish, that I don't listen to him, etc. It really hurt, but I listened because I believed he needed to say it. He needed a purgation. He told me he wasn't going to talk to me for months, and I didn't want him to not be able to tell me these things before he left. So he said them, and I said sorry and good bye. I felt like my mom was talking to me. It made me feel the same way.
Today I have been oscillating between anger at Josh for calling me a whore and those other things, and great sadness because some part of me believes I am a whore, and all of me knows that he said it because I really, genuinely, truly hurt him. I hurt him very badly. And that thought is almost unbearable.
I cannot regret what happened/is happening with Pat, but I do regret the way I handled telling it to Josh.
I didn't feel like I could talk to anyone today. I can always talk to Erin, I guess, but I was with her and JoAnna this weekend when the news began to hit, and they were there for me (along with Pat) then when I first felt the pain. I knew Erin was sick of hearing about Josh, as he has been the standing topic of conversation since she met me. I couldn't exactly call Pat, as it was the middle of school. So I retreated within myself and struggled to reconcile the things that Josh said with my own emotions, feelings, and fears. I realized that I have to forgive Josh for calling me those things, and I have to forgive myself for hurting him. The only real solution to any sort of offense is always forgiveness. Animosity, anger, revenge... they get you nowhere. Josh hurt me. I feel that he completely abandoned me in a way that I would never abandon him. But he also feels hurt, and he was just telling me what he really thought. It was the truth, which I would value over a reconciling lie. I can find it within me to love Josh no matter what he does. I wish him the best. I can find it within myself to let go of my anger and to move on with my life.
It's not easy though.
I saw Pat after school, and he helped me. Ariel helped me, Rylee helped me, Erin helped me, Jen helped me. I will get through this. And I hope Josh will too.
I'm assuming Josh is no longer reading this blog. Josh, if you are reading it, I am assuming from now on that you are not.
I broke up with Josh because it wasn't working. Maybe it was never working, but my undelying love for him was so great that it was able to overcome the problems. Things just broke after prom. I couldn't do it anymore. I hit a weakness inside of me that I was no longer willing to overcome. I was no longer willing to be exhausted, pushed aside by my self-created obligations. I cried for a long time before I told Josh that I needed to take a break.
I started dating Patrick, and I was happier than I'd been in years. I felt free, liberated after years of imprisonment. It was hard because I felt terrible about Josh, but I felt like for the first time I was doing something for me, not Josh. That made me feel both terribly selfish and terribly in control.
One night I talked to Josh, and I was able to try to explain the way I had always felt, and I think that for the first time, he really understood. We agreed to just be friends. The days after that felt absolutely complete. I could finally talk to Josh.
However (and this I will probably never explain on this blog), my relationship with Pat ended up hurting Josh (understandably), so that the pain I guess overcame his friendship for me. Last night he got justifiably really upset, and he called me a whore and said I never cared about him, that I'm selfish, that I don't listen to him, etc. It really hurt, but I listened because I believed he needed to say it. He needed a purgation. He told me he wasn't going to talk to me for months, and I didn't want him to not be able to tell me these things before he left. So he said them, and I said sorry and good bye. I felt like my mom was talking to me. It made me feel the same way.
Today I have been oscillating between anger at Josh for calling me a whore and those other things, and great sadness because some part of me believes I am a whore, and all of me knows that he said it because I really, genuinely, truly hurt him. I hurt him very badly. And that thought is almost unbearable.
I cannot regret what happened/is happening with Pat, but I do regret the way I handled telling it to Josh.
I didn't feel like I could talk to anyone today. I can always talk to Erin, I guess, but I was with her and JoAnna this weekend when the news began to hit, and they were there for me (along with Pat) then when I first felt the pain. I knew Erin was sick of hearing about Josh, as he has been the standing topic of conversation since she met me. I couldn't exactly call Pat, as it was the middle of school. So I retreated within myself and struggled to reconcile the things that Josh said with my own emotions, feelings, and fears. I realized that I have to forgive Josh for calling me those things, and I have to forgive myself for hurting him. The only real solution to any sort of offense is always forgiveness. Animosity, anger, revenge... they get you nowhere. Josh hurt me. I feel that he completely abandoned me in a way that I would never abandon him. But he also feels hurt, and he was just telling me what he really thought. It was the truth, which I would value over a reconciling lie. I can find it within me to love Josh no matter what he does. I wish him the best. I can find it within myself to let go of my anger and to move on with my life.
It's not easy though.
I saw Pat after school, and he helped me. Ariel helped me, Rylee helped me, Erin helped me, Jen helped me. I will get through this. And I hope Josh will too.
Friday, May 25, 2007
last few days
How surreal it is, to walk these hallways for the last few days, to attend my last Friday of high school. Ever.
I started working last week at the snow cone shack. It's been fun. Some days are busy and full of flying syrup and ice. Others are slow and full of me cleaning and listening to the radio.
I haven't been sleeping much. I must confess that many days have been fueled by caffeine.
Today was the last day of seminary, and I slept through half of it.
I'm still happy. I feel more honest than I have felt in months. Years, maybe.
This is my last high school weekend.
I think I'm mostly excited. I still feel so much paranoia and anxiety, but I know there's a lot more out there than is contained in my high school hallways.
I started working last week at the snow cone shack. It's been fun. Some days are busy and full of flying syrup and ice. Others are slow and full of me cleaning and listening to the radio.
I haven't been sleeping much. I must confess that many days have been fueled by caffeine.
Today was the last day of seminary, and I slept through half of it.
I'm still happy. I feel more honest than I have felt in months. Years, maybe.
This is my last high school weekend.
I think I'm mostly excited. I still feel so much paranoia and anxiety, but I know there's a lot more out there than is contained in my high school hallways.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
possibility
I think that maybe everything is going to be okay.
And that idea, that everything could be okay, after years of confusion, is so much that I can barely stand it.
I'm eighteen today.
*sigh*
I'm happy.
And that idea, that everything could be okay, after years of confusion, is so much that I can barely stand it.
I'm eighteen today.
*sigh*
I'm happy.
Friday, May 18, 2007
nothings
I haven't slept much this week.
I worked Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and today at Tropical Sno.
I spend my tip money on energy drinks so I can stay awake at work.
I'm sick of school.
I stepped on a nail yesterday, and it didn't hurt even though it went in half a centimeter.
It hurt this morning.
Things always hurt in the morning.
And I can't be honest on here anymore. When did that happen?
When did I become capable of destroying people?
Why do I feel free?
I do feel happy. And hopeful.
I will have to start posting in cryptic poems since I can no longer say what's happening.
I worked Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and today at Tropical Sno.
I spend my tip money on energy drinks so I can stay awake at work.
I'm sick of school.
I stepped on a nail yesterday, and it didn't hurt even though it went in half a centimeter.
It hurt this morning.
Things always hurt in the morning.
And I can't be honest on here anymore. When did that happen?
When did I become capable of destroying people?
Why do I feel free?
I do feel happy. And hopeful.
I will have to start posting in cryptic poems since I can no longer say what's happening.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
event horizon
At some point I realized I'd lost myself, and I wasn't happy.
I don't want that.
Nobody wants that.
I don't want that.
Nobody wants that.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
to think about
Because the earth is round, if I stand one foot away from you, I am both one foot away and almost an entire world away.
Because space is a grid of geodesics, if I stand one inch away from you, I am both one inch away and an entire universe away.
Every time I step one inch closer, I also step one inch backwards.
Every time I get the closest to you one human being can possibly get, the universe in all of its immensity stretches between us, prying us apart.
Because space is a grid of geodesics, if I stand one inch away from you, I am both one inch away and an entire universe away.
Every time I step one inch closer, I also step one inch backwards.
Every time I get the closest to you one human being can possibly get, the universe in all of its immensity stretches between us, prying us apart.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
why i have to stop searching and to learn to just be
CLOSER TO FINE- Indigo Girls
I'm trying to tell you something about my life
Maybe give me insight between black and white
The best thing you've ever done for me
Is to help me take my life less seriously, it's only life after all
Well darkness has a hunger that's insatiable
And lightness has a call that's hard to hear
I wrap my fear around me like a blanket
I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it, I'm crawling on your shore.
I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine.
I went to see the doctor of philosophy
With a poster of Rasputin and a beard down to his knee
He never did marry or see a B-grade movie
He graded my performance, he said he could see through me
I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind, got my paper
And I was free.
I stopped by the bar at
To seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend
I woke up with a headache like my head against a board
Twice as cloudy as I'd been the night before
I went in seeking clarity.
We go to the bible, we go through the workout
We read up on revival and we stand up for the lookout
There's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in a crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine
Monday, May 07, 2007
Cloture invoked on AP government
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
No more government!
And the test went extremely well.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
No more government!
And the test went extremely well.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
cool stuff
Today I have gone up and down and up and down, just like, as my Facebook status says, an undamped harmonic oscillator approaching resonance.
I was having a really crappy day involving AP English and government essays and molecular orbitals, and I thought I didn't get the writing award for that stuff I posted a while back, so I was rather grumpy when I went to Carroll to take my math semester (which I think went well, by the way).
After the semester, though, I found out I am a presidential scholar, meaning that my parents and I get an all expenses paid trip to Washington DC this June that is actually not during national debate! (It's the week right after.) Only 120 people got the academic presidentail scholar status, out of the whole nation. It was first based on SAT/ACT scores, and then I had to fill out this long annoying (but well worth it now) application in January. Now here I am! I get to see Washington DC for free, a city I've always wanted to visit! (And the fact that it's free makes me feel better about not going to Australia/New Zealand.)
After that I found out I actually did win the Harrison writing award, which is what I was applying for when I posted that story and those poems a while back. This means I get $250, which is the most money I've ever gotten for writing a few poems.
So that was happy, but I'm still stressed to the max and I feel like I'm drowning.
I was having a really crappy day involving AP English and government essays and molecular orbitals, and I thought I didn't get the writing award for that stuff I posted a while back, so I was rather grumpy when I went to Carroll to take my math semester (which I think went well, by the way).
After the semester, though, I found out I am a presidential scholar, meaning that my parents and I get an all expenses paid trip to Washington DC this June that is actually not during national debate! (It's the week right after.) Only 120 people got the academic presidentail scholar status, out of the whole nation. It was first based on SAT/ACT scores, and then I had to fill out this long annoying (but well worth it now) application in January. Now here I am! I get to see Washington DC for free, a city I've always wanted to visit! (And the fact that it's free makes me feel better about not going to Australia/New Zealand.)
After that I found out I actually did win the Harrison writing award, which is what I was applying for when I posted that story and those poems a while back. This means I get $250, which is the most money I've ever gotten for writing a few poems.
So that was happy, but I'm still stressed to the max and I feel like I'm drowning.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
