can’t sleep, never eat, reading old articles from magazines.

listening to the same song on repeat.  i don’t even know the name.

full moon visible from my bedroom window.

pet rabbit’s collar jingling from his cage on the other side of my room.

there’s a full moon (nearly full moon)

and if all goes according to plan,

five hours from now,

i’ll be waking soon-

wanting.

I remember winter.  Cutting through campus buildings to avoid the cold, my ears always getting the worst of it- my hair too wild to suffer the consequences of wearing a knitted cap all day.
I think that my black tights and thrift store boots were incorporated into nearly every outfit.  Dresses that I wore in summertime were made winter-friendly by them.  That black cardigan with the holes in the sleeves always found it’s way in, too.
Elliott Smith and The Shins fed into my weather-appropriate mood on all of those early morning walks to class.  My hair was red then- bright red- freezing almost immediately upon walking outside if just the smallest bit damp.
There were those late night walks with friends, sliding on ice on more than one occasion, grabbing out for them to keep myself from falling.  I had a handsome boy, whose company I couldn’t keep.  I was young, as I still am, and he never slept; in hindsight, we were both a little off balance.  But we had some nice times drinking coffee or showing off to one another what we had been working on (be it my photos or his music), which is something we still do now.
I can’t exactly pinpoint what it is about that winter (or winter in general) that I now miss so much.  Maybe I’m just tired of mosquito bites or memories of the summer that I just had.  I’d like to think that my time spent with an ultimately irrelevant person wasn’t time wasted, but I’m starting to believe that less and less.  I don’t like to waste time.  The new semester put me in somewhat better spirits, though…  Seeing good friends who hadn’t been around all summer made me happy, and my nights spent with them make me feel like I was never away.  My days are spent going in between work and classes, always running up my apartment building’s staircase at the end of the day; skipping steps, always so ready to be home.  In the evening, that boy I saw in the winter will come over and I’ll listen to his singing or complain to him while lying on my couch, my head on his lap.  He’s one of my best friends and I am thankful.  Other times are spent on another friend’s couch watching movies or doing absolutely nothing at all.  He teaches me about trance music and buys me Taco Bell sometimes.  He makes fun, calling me an “art kid” and I never let him forget that he looks like he belongs in a frat.
That being said, winter will come and I’ll love it, taking pictures of the first snow and the ice-encapsulated trees.  Come January, I’ll be craving the sun that I see everyday now.  It’s true what they say about always wanting what you can’t have and not wanting what you once had wished for, once you get it.  And with that, I’ll leave you with a quote from one of my favorites.
“As soon as you stop wanting something, you get it. I’ve found that to be absolutely axiomatic.”
- Warhol

well i don’t know.

It’s been a while and I can’t even begin to relay to you all that has happened this summer.
My lack of luck has been almost a joke, and I try not to complain.  Don’t complain. Don’t complain.  I won’t complain.

So many things have changed and I’m trying to keep up.  Even though this can all be so overwhelming (as it usually is) I think I’m happy, in an off sort of way.  I do things and go places and have conversations that couldn’t be better.

So even when the weight of these situations and unfortunate events weigh heavy, I’m alright; I’m okay.  Painfully so, actually.  When life itself is altered greatly, you learn things.  Obviously, I guess.  And somewhere along this all, my thought process as a whole has changed.  Don’t know where, don’t know when, but something about it feels so nice.

Giving up can bring such great relief.  Giving up my expectations, my bitching, my worrying.  It all feels so nice.

And I can console myself, when doing what is right and what is hard, in knowing that I can never regret doing what’s right in the end… you know?

So, I’ll stop being vague and end this post of semi-non sensical nonsense here.

adventures.

I’ve got to say that I’ve always been very fond of adventures.  Yeah, watching movies and talking is always fun, but I like to be doing something.  Preferably, something that could be defined as an “adventure”.   To clarify, I consider the following to be the ingredients to a good adventure:

1.  Good friends

2.  New surroundings

3. Preferably spur of the moment

4. Camera

5. No agenda for the adventure

6.  Good music.

So, that being said, I’ve always loved going on adventures that consist of these aforementioned “ingredients”.

Now, it was only the other day that I started looking at occurrences or events without these ingredients as “adventures”… albeit a different breed (or so to speak).
I had been spending a lot of time with a friend who referred to any mishap as an adventure.  I guess I didn’t take too much notice until the other day when he used the phrase again.  It struck me as a subtle, small, yet great way to make a misfortune into something positive.  So my bank account may have been overdrawn through an incident concerning a mechanic and two debit cards and I’ve been kicked out of my house, my car still packed to the brim with my miscellaneous belongings….. Now, before, this was something that I looked at in a negative light, understandably so.  Instead of dwelling on it and stressing out, however, I decided to refer to my current predicaments as a sort of adventure.  When I think of it in that sense, I feel like a vagabond, going whichever way the wind blows her.

Honestly, this change of mindset has helped me, personally, tremendous amounts and I am happy.  Not just “okay” or “alright”, but actually happy.  And really, this is the first time that I’ve been able to say that in a while.

. i wait in 4/4 time .

From time to time, I’ll find that one song that I can’t stop listening to.  It’s usually the kind of song that would be the last track on the soundtrack of your life (if you were to have one).  So “Left & Leaving” by The Weakerthans happens to be that song for me now.  I first heard it in Jake’s car the other night, as we all sat talking.  I’ve listened to it only one million times over since then.

“My city’s still breathing (but barely it’s true)
through buildings gone missing like teeth.
The sidewalks are watching me think about you,
sparkled with broken glass.
I’m back with scars to show,
Back with the streets I know
Will never take me anywhere but here.
The stain in the carpet, this drink in my hand,
the strangers whose faces I know.
We meet here for our dress-rehearsal to say ” I wanted it this way”.
Wait for the year to drown;
Spring forward, fall back down.
I’m trying not to wonder where you are.
All this time lingers, undefined.
Someone choose who’s left and who’s leaving.
Memory will rust and erode into lists of all that you gave me:
a blanket, some matches, this pain in my chest,
the best parts of Lonely, duct-tape and soldered wires,
new words for old desires,
and every birthday card I threw away.
I wait in 4/4 time.
Count yellow highway lines that you’re relying on to lead you home.”

So really what I’m saying, is that you ought to find the song (be it through your limewire or a crappy youtube fan-made video) and listen to & love the song.

_____________

__________

end.

pedestrians.

I really can’t believe I haven’t written about what I’m about to write about yet.  This has to be something that I think about on a daily basis, so as I lie in my dark room this morning I find myself wanting to write about it.

I vividly remember riding the subway in New York when I was eleven, not removing my sunglasses once underground.  My grandpa turns to me asking, “Why the sunglasses inside?”
I just wanted to be able to stare at people without them knowing.  While some might find this creepy, I don’t think of it in that way. . I guess I’m just deeply fascinated with people.  The way they talk, walk, dress, behave, react, think, and so on and so forth.

A small wave of a small sadness will come upon me in times of the realization that there will be so many people that I will never meet, know, or see.  The fact that God has made so many individual, unique people a million times over, intrigues me so much.  Out of the 6 billion people on earth, not one is an exact duplicate of another.  Sure, we’ve all come across others who remind us of a good friend.  Mannerisms may be similar, or they might have the same gate as you see them walk away, but they aren’t that person that you know.  Still completely different.

And it’s this fascination of sorts that makes me who I am.  Nothing makes me happier than meeting a new person, be it just a friend of a friend whose conversation is brief, someone I look up to, or a favorite musician whose show I finally saw.

Often times as I’m driving or riding my bike, I wonder about that person who just walked across the street in front of my stopped car.  Where are they going? What’s their name? Are they happy?  I have to be a bit more careful about this while I’m sitting alone in one of the big armchairs in Radina’s, or when I’m watching kids walk into the lecture hall.  Staring is always a little weird, no matter what.

Through my constant observation and awareness of the people surrounding me, I’ve found that I always seem to know people before they know me.  Plenty of times, I’ve finally met someone who I always see in the cafeteria or in my dorm daily when they’ll say, “Oh, so you live here? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”  Now, I used to take offense to this until I realized that maybe not everyone was this way.. Not everyone takes notice at every pedestrian who crosses the street.

This is actually something that I like about myself.  If I didn’t have such an interest in the human race and the psychology behind it, I wouldn’t be outgoing like I am.  I’m always willing to talk to a new person; a stranger.   In fact, this used to be a “problem” of sorts when I was little. I never could “never talk to strangers” like they always preached in preschool.   Talking to and learning about strangers has always been one of my favorite activities.. And maybe this is why I shamelessly love facebook so much.

So now, if you haven’t already, I’d urge you to step outside of your comfort zone/social box/shyness/whatever holds you back, and maybe strike up a conversation with someone new, even if you’re intimidated by them or worried as to what it is they’ll think of you.   Even though I find myself being extremely outgoing at times, I still tend to be painfully self-conscious or worried about others views of me.  I try to not let it stop me, realizing that in talking to that person or getting to know that stranger I might learn great things, go on some  adventures, or open up to some new ideas.

I just feel like there are so many people on this earth around me with so much to offer that I don’t want to take them for granted.  So in conclusion, I want to know about you.. her, him, them, and us.

Peace.

la fin.

.my year in lists.

Lindsborg has been treating me alright.  I”ve had good times with good friends.  Demetri Martin was hilarious, to say the least.

Being home has given me a lot of down time.  I spend my days waking up too late, going to work, taking pictures of this and that, thinking, writing.

I was in my room today when I found an old notebook (I’ve kept many throughout my life) that contained lots of lists. I’ve always been quite the list writer, so I thought I’d include one in tonight/this morning’s post.

Things I Think About:
-setting up an indoor photography studio in my bedroom in my apartment next semester.. i thought it would be cool to just use it as a studio for the most part.  pretty inexpensive, with a lot of benefit. also, it would be great for doing portraits.. its something i haven’t done enough of that i’ve been really itching to try.
-being able to pay for that dang car repair.
-how i still need to get my bike tire fixed.  another flat.
-my roadtrip to wakarusa next week.
-manhattan
-friends.*
-tomorrow’s activities.
-wanting to start looking into film… thinking it could be something i could maybe dabble in. 

*Now, back to the whole “friends” thing… I miss them.
Now, I just wrote this whole shpeel about caring about my friends and blahdeblah, but that’s really just too corny and I don’t feel comfortable saying so much on the subject.  Long story short, I just kind of want to go back to Manhattan and talk to the people that I haven’t talked to since I left.

—

On a different note, here are some things (in the media genre) that I’ve been enjoying lately:

Directed by Shia Labeouf:

Good, good movie:

Wes Anderson’s face:

The End.
(oh, and p.s:, if you get the time, please do listen to bat for lashes [she's magical], los campesinos, and the magic numbers)

some thoughts over a mug of caffeine.

Yesterday was really nice. I’ve been so stressed and whatnot, but spending time with Zach and Mariah taking pictures really calmed me.
If I ever go out taking pictures after a hard week or day, it instantly chills me out.  I’ve never come back from taking pictures still upset.
I really don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have photography.  I will actually get in a bad mood if I don’t take pictures for a while.. It’s almost like this tic I have.  Some people twiddle their fingers or play with their hair- I take pictures.  Even if I don’t do anything with them or don’t show them to anyone, it just helps to be shooting.  I never did it because I thought I was so great at it or because I was in search of a hobby or interest.  It just has always made me feel good.
I’ve always been a person fascinated with nostalgia and things of sentimental value.  Even now, I think a big part of photography for me is just documentation.  I like to be able to look up a certain date on my laptop and see that day through the pictures that I took.

It’s been a personal belief throughout my life that everyone should have their “thing”.. You know, something that they do, are good at, or that makes them happy.  I think that its good for you.. beneficial… healthy.  I’ve never not had a thing.  I need to feel (for myself/personal reasons) productive.  I guess you could say, I like having something “to live for”.  You know… [I hate to be vulgar] but it’s all about what gets you off.
And on that thought, I find myself thinking about how I like surrounding myself with people who are the same way.  When you are creating something or working on a project of the sorts, you have something to share.  I like being able to swap ideas and works with my other friends.  I like to read what they’re writing, hear what they’re playing, see what they’re doodling.  You can really feed off of one another when you do that.  For me, its all about sharing ideas and interests.  I want to feel like I have something to offer people.  I don’t know if I do quite yet, but I like to try.
So on that note, I hope that you have your “thing”.  I hope that you have something that makes you truly happy.  I hope you have something that you can turn to when you’re car is broken down and your as broke as broke can get.  I do, and I honestly thank God for that.

Sleep?

 

I haven’t been able to sleep.  I’ve had bouts of insomnia throughout the latter half of my life, but this is just getting ridiculous.  I want to be able to sleep before 5a.m.

When I feel like I could fall right asleep, and when I really, really want to do just that, it just so happens that I’m with people doing something.. watching a movie, riding bikes, talking.

When I’m alone in my livingroom, the only light coming from the television, I’m wide awake.  Maybe I’ll just sleep on the couch tonight.  Last semester, couches became more familiar to me than beds did, so maybe if I slept on the couch, I’d be better off.  Familiar. 
I could pretend that I’m really on a couch in Hale’s basement.  Those are always the best naps.
[as an aside, i tend to be pretty good at preteneding i'm somewhere i'm not.  i.e.: the library's couch when i'm really in my livingroom an hour and a half away.  ]

Anyways, I guess I haven’t much to say.  Hope all is well with you folks.  Things here are fine; just miss a few people here and there.  It happens. ]

s. su. sum. summ. summe. summer. [!][?]

I feel like a revert back to a time of agelessness during the summer.  During the school years, I grow and I spend my time doing things that people my age do.  Progression. 
In the summer, I wake late, work here and there, take out the trash for my mom, ride my bike in circles around town.  Its all the same.  At 19, I do what I did at 14.  Refreshing summer- always nostalgic.

Its been almost a year spent away, and coming back is always a bit more alienating than the time before. Everythings different and nothing has changed. A few new buildings here and there, another death, something new to talk about.  Babies are a bit more frequent, and I see everyone I didn’t talk to in high school.  Conversation friendlier than it once was.  Small talk.

I watch old classmates who hit their prime in high school hang in the same places, say the same things they did back then.  Smoke some pot behind your house, drink some beer in the fields.  Cruise, same CD in the player that was there last spring when you graduated.  Same clothes, same friends, same thoughts. 
Not wanting to be like that, I tell myself I’ve changed;  I think I’ve changed. 

Its only two months, only two months, only two months.
Then, my apartment will come.  I have pretty linens and nice throw pillows.  Lights for my ceiling, and some old 35mm prints from senior year. 

 

This is how I want summer (not mine, but I wish):

___________________

(mine)

 

 

______________________

Music fixation for May 20, 2009:

 

and I think everyone should enjoy this song and want to dance to it:

 

_______________________

I think I’ll go apartment thrifting tomorrow.  Frames, tacky artwork, uglybutcharming lamp, maybe?  Crossed fingers.

 

La Fin.

 

 

After Thought/Thing That Irks Me for May 20, 2009*:

So many people just seem so dang contrived these days.  We get it- you’re cool.  You have your lip pierced and your Vans are pretty beat up.  You have one of those rockclimberclipsthatyoucan’tactuallyuseforrockclimbing attached to your beltloop and you like discussing religion and your philosophy on life.  Donnie Darko is your favorite movie, and you own vinyls and shop at Urban. 
I’d plead for more originality here if I didn’t find these characteristics attractive– That is, when they aren’t forced; when they aren’t contrived- when you can talk about other things other than your band and the new Toms that you’re about to buy. 
(just thought I’d add in some clarification)

________________

*I probably just came pretty dang close to describing myself.  But in my defense, I only have one of those aforementoined fauximarockclimberbutnotreally clips hooked to my belt loop because I would loose my keys otherwise… and also, Donnie Darko isn’t my favorite movie.  It’s in my top 14 or so, but not number one.