I ran out of space in this book item for my next entry. So, for a continuation of this blog, please see my new blog: "Invalid Item" .

Thank you. It's been wonderful writing with you.




 

Wednesday was the last day before class, and thus, a last hoorah for everyone before the work starts. I was planning on going on a glow hike - a hike at night with glowsticks. But then Imani and Patrick invited me along to an Open Mic at Porter, so I thought, I'll go there for an hour, and then go on my hike. Before that, I got home from visiting a friend, and decided to make myself a nice dinner: spaghetti with sauce, Broccoli, and I even baked some chocolate chip bread for dessert. It was a nice romantic dinner for one, my favorite kind, with music and everything (except candles - those aren't allowed). It was very satisfying. Then I left for the Open Mic. When I got there, there was a full house already, but Patrick let me sit on the arm of his chair, so I had a prime spot for watching the performances. And then I sat back... and was blown away. There are some seriously talented people in Porter. The whole time I was listening to various people's songs and poems, I had chills running up and down my body, it was that good. And then Imani went up there... and took it to a whole new level. Imani is a REALLY good musician. Oh my God. I was amazed. He did this kind of soulful, deep rap thing and played piano along with it, and it was the most haunting, beautiful, forceful music ever. He even had one verse in Spanish. I wish I could've recorded it and had it on my Mp3 player. He was so good that the last person who went up actually dedicated his song to Imani, who the guy had never even met before. And then Patrick went up and did some slam poetry... and he was the best of the slam poets! At the end, everyone was cheering, and he received a standing ovation. And then our other friend Amy played/sung a song with her guitar, and I loved it so much, I wanted to learn the lyrics and sing along. These were all original songs, by the way. That made them all the more amazing.

So I ended up staying at the Open Mic instead of going hiking. It was too good to leave. Afterwards, the bass guitar player who dedicated his song to Imani joined us, and Imani, Patrick, and Amy decided to go jam in the music practice rooms. I joined them, but I'm not the most musical person, so I was really just an audience. But it was a lot of fun, and I enjoyed listening to them.

Thursday was the first day of class, but I only had to go to one class, which was kayaking, and all we did was make sure that any questions were answered for next week. So I went home and then my friend Silvia called, so we left to get lunch together. As we were cramming onto a full bus, a heard a voice say "hey" behind me... I turned around, and there was Ricardo! I'll admit, I got a little jolt from seeing him there so unexpectedly, but then we started talking as best we could in that cramped bus. He was going to crash Sociology, a course which I'd taken last year and recommended to him. Before he could get off, I quickly got out my phone and tapped on his shoulder: "Hey, what's your number?" So I got his phone number, finally. Better late than never, hey?

And then I went to work - I like work. I love being back at work. Even at a dish-washing shift. I set to work training a new employee, and was having a pretty good time. I was very happy to be there. And then I got off, went home, ate, talked to Kim for a while, and went on a night jog. It's kind of trippy on campus because, at Kresge, it was clear outside, but when you go downhill to East Field, you suddenly drop down into this thick fog. It was nice, though.

And yesterday was an excellent day, as well. I went to class and then work (the slowest day of work EVER - 3 1/2 hours of working, and I only made 3 sandwiches!). After work, I didn't have anything else to do, so I called up Ricardo, thinking: he knows how to have a good time. He answered the phone and after a garbled conversation (I live in the Kresge dead zone for phones) we finally agreed to meet at the dining hall for dinner. I got there before him, mostly because I decided to walk - I don't like to depend on buses to get me where I'm going. Sure enough, no bus came until 20 minutes later, when Ricardo finally showed up. And then began the mad dash to find an open dining hall. After trying every dining hall but one, we finally got to 9/10, which was the only one open. Then I watched Ricardo scarf down about 5 plates of food - every dish they had available except for one - pizza, salad, rice, burger, clam chowder, soft serve - it all went into his stomach. I was amazed and asked: "Were you hungry at all?" And he was like, "Yeah, I don't usually eat this much, but I was starving." Despite eating all that food, he still managed to hold a conversation quite well, and it was never too awkward, which is always a good thing.

Then there were options: at my college, there was a Sex and Sexuality Game Show, which was pretty good last year. At Crown, there was a glow dance, which I found out about while we were searching for food. At the bookstore, there was a dance that was more of a sit-in from the protestors, who were trying to occupy a building and make it into a party. And then Ricardo told me about a dance at Oakes, as well, which he was planning on going to. Well, I decided that I wasn't going to miss out on a dance, and I'd rather go dancing with Ricardo than by myself, so I said I'd join him at the Oakes dance. If there's one thing that Ricardo can do - it's dance. Trust me, he's really good. Not that he's a professional or anything - just that, he knows how to let loose and move without anything holding him back. In fact, some of his moves are really really silly, but because he does them with enthusiasm and is shameless about them, they actually make him look good. And THAT'S what I love about dancing - I need people who are willing to just dance however they want and throw some fun into the mix. In fact, while we were heading down there, we were both complaining about how people don't actually dance at dances, and don't know how to make dancing fun. And then we got to talking about last year's friends - apparently, he'd been in the same situation as me last year, with a large group of friends from another college who are good to hang out with, but who don't actually call you. And I was really glad to have someone who could relate to me about that, because that means that Ricardo knows the value of a phone call, and will probably actually call me without any prompting (thank God!). In fact, when I called him yesterday, he ended the phone call with an emphatic: "Thank you so much for calling!"

After hanging around his apartment for awhile, we went to the dance, and it was a blast. I LOVE dancing with people who actually know how to dance - wildly. ;) And whenever the crowd formed a circle (the type where someone jumps in and shows off their moves and the crowd watches and claps), Ricardo and I would jump in. Once, he jumped into a circle, and danced ridiculously for a while, and then made a rope-throwing motion towards me... so I jumped in with him, and the crowd went wild and started hooting! And towards the end of the dance, a good salsa-dancing song came on, and I was trying to recall how to salsa... and he came up and showed me: "swing your hips like this, and then step like this" and asked "may I?" and then put his hands on my waist and salsa-ed with me clumsily, the both of us laughing. It was so much fun!! Then it ended, and we were both soaked head to toe in sweat. We walked back to his apartment where I got my jacket and glasses (I'd left them there so that they wouldn't fly off in some of my more outrageous dancing), and then when he asked what I was doing tomorrow, I said, getting books. He needed to get books too, so I invited him along. And then he said, well, would you like to get dinner or lunch while we're down there?

So now I'm waiting to catch a bus downtown with him to get lunch with him before shopping for books. My feet are incredibly sore from last night (a sign of a good night), and I'm looking forward to more!
 

It is quite wonderful to be back on campus, moved in, and by my lonesome again. The last few days have been crazy with activities (as welcome week always is), and I have been attending as many of them as possible, mostly with my new roommates and neighbors by my side. My first outing with my apartment-mate Imani was to the beach. I was at home, lounging, when Imani suddenly burst through the door and asked if I wanted to go to the beach. So I grabbed a jacket and left, and crammed in the back of his SUV (and by back, I mean BACK, as in "trunk") with a whole gaggle of other junior transfers like Imani himself. One was my new neighbor and gay best friend, Patrick, and the others included several girls and one quiet guy named Will. It was to be a bonfire on the beach - however, we did not have much money, and the people in the car opted for beer instead of firewood. Which meant that instead of a bonfire, we only had a "bon". But it was pretty fun - well, I was kind of bored, but a satisfied bored, a "listening contentedly" kind of bored. Some of the conversation topics were really deep - such as religion, why so-and-so believes in God, music, ethics, etc - and gave the trip an out-of-body kind of experience. In addition, a large group of adults on the beach were setting off Chinese lanterns: rice paper bags with a candle beneath that filled with hot air and lifted off into the sky, rising steadily and growing ever smaller, until finally hitting a current and flying off into distant space. It really was an amazing thing to watch.

I went on a hike with my other apartment-mate, Kim, on a search for Cat's Cradle - a cat graveyard - but our group got lost, and only ended up doing a giant loop around upper campus to come back exactly where we left off. The next day, I set off on my own (after getting several "no's" when I invited my not-yet-seen friends) and hiked around up to the Swing, Tree 9, and even to the Wishing Tree, which I didn't even know the location of until I stumbled upon it. The Wishing Tree, by the way, is a tree where you write down your wishes and stick them on the branches of the tree in hopes that they will come true. Despite all my hiking, I still did not find Cat's Cradle. Perhaps it's a myth...

After my hike, I stopped by Crown to see if my friends were there, and indeed, they were. The then invited me to dinner with them, and we went and got Woodstock's Pizza together. After that, Imani and Patrick invited me along on a trip to the Porter Caves, along with what must've been an entire Porter dorm (50+ people, easily). It was a fun but exhausting day.

... but it is the day after that that you've been waiting to hear about, I'm sure. I woke up to a call from Kevin (always a nice way to wake up, to a call from someone you really like), who invited me to dinner that night, after we were both done with our consecutive meetings. I finished my meeting with my new building-mates (a mixer, to introduce yourself to everyone you live with) and set off to the bus stop to see Kevin for the first time in over 6 months. On the way, I met my old apartment-mate and trouble-maker, Julia (the one who was always on drugs), so I had to stop and say hi and chat with her a while. Then I set off again, climbing the small hill to the Kresge bus stop. As I walked, I was pretty excited, but it was when I saw what looked like him from a distance, that was when my heart did this kind of swooping thing, and I felt a sudden rush of blood through my veins. I was almost shaking, and had to hold back a massive grin. He beat me to the bus stop, but then saw me coming, and began to walk over - I could tell he was having just as much trouble trying not to smile, and as we came closer to one another, we both just gave in and let it loose. We hugged and then started talking. But as I was telling him about just coming from a building meeting, he remembered that he, too, had a meeting that he'd forgotten about - which meant that he couldn't have dinner. I was majorly disappointed, but took what little time I had and showed him my apartment. Then we decided to go on a short walk until he had to go back. He told me how, this quarter, he was going to try not to have any more problems. He said that last year, he didn't sleep much, and that sort of triggered all the problems that followed, so this year, he's going to try to get more sleep. Besides that, we just talked about school and summer and roommates - rather dull conversation, actually, but *shrug* I was happy - and then I walked him back to Crown, went home and ate dinner alone. But he did say, before he left, that we should hang out some Friday night or some-such. I heartily agreed.

Instead of Kevin, I went to a dance and mixer with Patrick. The mixer was just an introduce-yourself-to-random-strangers-and-make-friends kind of thing. After that was the Michael Jackson Tribute dance, where I danced the night away (and my neck away, too - my neck is SORE).

Today, I went to Free Day and got some free stuff for our apartment, and then I went to OPERS, which is a festival thing where all the clubs and sports teams and such have booths you can check out. I got a few handouts from a couple of dance groups, a weekend activity organization, and the kayaking club, but I can't really participate this quarter because I have so much class. I ran into my friends (Jake, Billy, Josh, Carney, etc) and ate dinner with them, and then ran off to find Patrick to go to the Boardwalk Frolic. The Boardwalk is kind of like a year-round fair at the beach, with small roller coasters and rides, and every year, the school has an event to go there. I thought to go with my Crown friends, but, as it turns out, they weren't going. So I was to go with Patrick next door. Only, for a while, I couldn't find Patrick, so had a moment of panic and loneliness in my apartment, and contemplated just staying at home... but then I went out to the bus stop to go alone, and found him there at the parking structure. So we went, and were having a pretty good time... and then I saw Kevin. We were in line for a roller coaster, and I was talking merrily with Patrick and Torro (who accompanied us), when I turn around to look at the line and suddenly, there he is. My heart PLUNGED. And I thought, Oh god, not again... But indeed, it was him, he had come with his new roommate, and when he caught sight of me a few seconds later, he smiled in surprise too. A hasty introduction to our various company, and then the line moved us out of range. I got on the roller coaster, subtley looking out of the corner of my eye for the tall, gangly blonde guy in the dashing red plaid shirt... and then the ride jerked and I was off. When we got off, I was of half a mind to stay and wait by the exit for Kevin to come through, but I ended up staying with my group. We got some food, and I was looking the whole time where I knew Kevin would get off. I saw him walk by, and hoped he would look my way. But he didn't, and kept on going...

So I just enjoyed the rest of my night with Patrick and Torro, looking around occasionally, but for the most part enjoying myself. We went through a haunted house walk-through, and Patrick was clutching my shoulders the entire way in a vice-like grip, with me laughing at him the whole way while trying to navigate through a maze of mirrors and hanging creepers. It was a lot of fun, but my stomach was kind of sick from the fair food (ice cream), and everyone was tired. So we went home a little early to beat the rush. Imani invited us to the beach, but this time we opted out in favor of some rest. So now I'm in my new home, doing the laundry, and wondering how badly it's going to be this year (the Kevin thing), a bit disconcerted by how easily the sight of one person can turn my stomach like that...

But now I am very excited. It was good for me to see Kevin out and about - I'm glad he's off having fun with other people, making new friends and such. Hopefully there won't be any problems this year for him. And, of course, I'm excited to have another chance at friendship with him, and possibly more. Although, my work-load this quarter is pretty intense. I have 21 Lit books to read, half of them essays. But with any luck, I'll find time to see him, and to hang out with Patrick and Imani and Kim and Francis, and all those other really nice people that I met. I'm really happy to be living with the people I'm living with. They're better friends than the ones I had in Crown last year (and closer, too!).

In fact, my Crown friends (excepting Kevin, and maybe Trinnie, as predicted) have only given me discontent. They never call me, they never invite me anywhere unless I call them and ask what they are doing, or unless I physically go over there and make my presence known. Quite frankly, I'm tired of it, and don't think I'll be seeing much of them anymore. When I first got here, I tried to invite them all somewhere, or call them... not only was I really hesitant to do so, but they all said "no" and were all hanging out in Jake's room, as usual, and didn't even invite me over when I called wanting to see them (though, when I showed up later, they didn't object to me being there). I actually cried over the frustration of that, and then got over it, and went hiking by myself to all those places on upper campus. By the end of my hike, I was sweaty and tired and happy to just slowly let them out of my life, like I've been wanting to do. They are really shitty friends. Good people, shitty friends. If you'll excuse the language.

But mostly, that's a relatively small set-back. The best thing about this year is that I've already met such awesome people, who WILL reciprocate my friendship, so it doesn't even matter anymore. I'd rather hang out with Patrick and Imani and Kim and that guy on the bus stop corner I met at the mixer who invited me to the boardwalk with his friends when I thought I'd lost Patrick... hell, the random strangers in Kresge are better friends than my old friends in Crown!

But enough of this madness - I bid thee goodnight.

 

Winter may be relinquishing it's grip on the other side of the world, but it's only just beginning to appear, here. The rain is steadily increasing in frequency and the trees are beginning to turn. Of course, soon I'll be in Santa Cruz, where it doesn't rain as much as it does here... but I've heard from people in Santa Cruz that it was raining there, too, so hopefully that pattern will stay. Then we can have a proper UCSC First Rain: brave, unabashed souls running around the campus naked in the rain. Ah, Santa Cruz - it's crazy sometimes, but I love it.

I didn't mention Kevin because there's nothing to mention - yet. At this point in time, he's pretty much like every other UCSC friend of mine - I have to wait until they're all moved in to see whether or not we'll all still be friends or not. I hate to say it, but without the common living space that my Crown group had, I probably won't see all of them the way I used to. This means that some of the friendships I had will most likely fade away. Of course, there's the flip side to that too... those who DO remain in contact with me, I'll probably become closer to, because there won't be a giant group of people distracting from a closer friendship. Which is what I'm hoping will happen with Kevin. And then there are the wild cards, the people I haven't met yet: roommates, Heather, classmates, neighbors, random strangers met at random events... and those, I think, are pretty exciting. If nothing else, I'll get to watch other people's social games, which is also entertaining. But really, losing my Crown friends won't hit me too hard. They were good to have to hang out with, but in the long run, they weren't the best of friends anyway. I work best with fewer, closer friends than with a large group like that. Like in Newbury Park - me, Mary, and Jean. That's all I need.

Last year just sucked because I didn't find that kind of friend until the end of the year, and then she left. Hopefully, I'll have better luck this year.

... and I'll certainly have better classes. More priority and more concentration means I get to do more of the stuff I love, which I'm really excited for.

Today, I went to storage and scrounged around for some pots, pans, utensils, and other kitchen necessities. Now all my stuff is packed in the truck and ready to go. All I need is me, my laundry, and some sundry items that I've picked up in my travels - such as my "Oregon Coast in a bottle", a few books, and the Cube-In-A-Cube that my brother made me - and I'm all set.

Lately, I've been having really weird sleeping habits. For instance, I stay up until 3 or 4 in the morning (it's 2 am right now), spend an hour trying to sleep and ignore all the baby spiders in my bed (they laid eggs nearby, which hatched), sleep until about 10:30, get up and do something... then I get home, immediately crash on my mom's bed, fall asleep for 3-4 hours, and wake up around 9 pm, just when everybody else is hopping off to bed. It's kind of bad, but also kind of good - the naps I take are so nice. Kind of like the naps I'd take at school when I got overly emotional - it's just nice sometimes to zonk out and not worry about things for a few hours. Only thing is, it screws up the rest of my night, too.
 

Well... this is it. The next two days will be spent gathering and packing things. The third day will be spent driving. And on the fourth day, not only will I be unpacking, but I'll be ready to go back to work, too. I'll get to meet my new apartment-mates, who are already there. And by Tuesday of the following week, all my friends will be there, too. And on Thursday, it begins... the new quarter.

I'm very very excited. I think the first thing I shall do after I've unpacked and mom has left is to take a walk around campus, like I used to do. I've been itching to visit the Swing again. Perhaps take another tour of the Porter caves, or a turn around upper campus towards Tree 9. I can take the bus down to the beach... or downtown. Walk through the center of campus again. Run around the track and stare across Santa Cruz. I'd just like to walk the length of campus, through it and around it, on all the trails through all the trees and meadows, and just take it in. And think to myself, I'm back.

I've already found a new friend... or, rather, that new friend found me. Heather works in the mail room at Kresge, and all last year, everytime I passed by her, I smiled and waved... I don't remember ever meeting her or giving her my name, and I don't even remember why I wave at her, but this week, she found me online and finally gave me her name, with a promise to eat chocolate, have social experiments (she's a Sociology major, too), and roll our eyes at sexual innuendos together. Sounds fantastic to me!

Today was, in essence, my last day to take in the Oregon wilderness. My mom and I went back to the beach one last time (the other day, we went to Detroit and I just swam for a full hour, taking it in). When we got back home, I fell onto the bed and passed out under a blanket, falling in and out of dreams until finally waking three hours later, sweating between the bodies of my mom and my dog. I woke up JUST in time for bed time! *face-palm* Not such good planning on my part... but sleeping like that felt SO good.

I can't wait to get back to school, back to work, back to the gym, back to my friends... back to going to random dances alone, back to free theater shows and college nights and special, interesting events. Back to reading, back to writing, back to WORKING. Back to having a reason to wake up in the morning, and a reason to go to bed at night. I need to be busy again. All this relaxation is getting to me. And I'm not in as good of shape as I was a month ago, either, because there isn't a gym for me to go to here. I hate seeing all that work to get my body this way going to waste.
 

I don't mind coming Out
To people who are Out.

It's not that I don't like being Out...
Just that In was never my thing.

...Just a commentary on how it's so easy to be yourself around people who are willing to be themselves. And oh so uncomfortable to be around people who aren't Out.
 

I've been thinking about it, and I've realised that a double major in Sociology and Literature suites me incredibly well.

1) I'm shy. To quote a sociology professor, "I was never a social person, so instead, I decided to study the social scene from the sidelines." I'm not a social person myself, but I like to watch social interactions. It's interesting.

2) I may be shy, but then I find myself outting myself publicly anyway. When there's a reason to. When I want to. For instance, I'm not the ambitious type, but I went out and found myself a job anyway, without any encouragement or suggestion to do so. For instance, I do not like being in the lime-light, but I am now going to be a part of a documentary about asexuality, of all things. Granted, it's not a big part - you only see a couple flashes of my face and and hear my voice in the background - but damn I hate seeing/hearing myself! It's embarrassing... but also exciting. It's exciting to finally get out there and take part in something.

3) I love writing. I haven't been doing a ton of it lately, but I still love it and I still do it on a semi-regular basis. I'm reasonably good at it, too. My grammar and spelling is good the first time around except for maybe a few typos. I know how to structure an argument and how to tear apart that structure to artistic effect. It's easy and fun for me, and I use it to form thoughts, postulate, record, clarify, etc, etc.

4) I love reading. I'm a good reader. I can pick up on things. This, in turn, ties in with the fact that I'm a good listener. I can listen/read, decipher, understand, and use that understanding to create meaning for me.

How does this all add up? Well, I read the world around me by studying sociology, and I use that reading to understand as many perspectives as possible. Then I use my artistic, calmly aloof voice to write about it and clarify my main ideas, to explain it to other people so that they might understand and to get an important point across and on its way to developing into something more. In this way, I can instigate change and be a part of something, and yet still remain in my sideline position with peace and writing and reading.

I like writing, but occasionally I like living too. This way, I can do both - live, write, write, live. Be a part of the world, and apart from it, too.

Yes.
 

It's been an interesting experience - that's for sure. Loving someone. Loving someplace. Moving away and slowly, ever-so-slowy reverting back to what I used to be - but different, changed... never the same. Shifting passions, shifting interests, moving constantly in and out of my life. I went from a philosophical dreamer, from a contemplative writer, from a quiet, content bibliophile to a fast-paced, practical, physical, determined individual, bent on living over writing, bent on being over thinking, bent on running and playing over analyzing. I used to be able to read for days, to write page after page after page of life questions and answers, to watch the world from the side and think and dream, happily out of action. I used to love loneliness, thrill in silence, thrive in thought. And now... now I live more than ever. I walk, I run, I feel my muscles move me physically forward. "I" is no longer a hypothetical person. It's a living, breathing human being. "I" lick my lips, gasp for breath, and feel the pain and the pleasure in everything I do.

Today, instead of sitting in and writing about the beauty of the trees, I went out and walked under them, felt their shade on my skin, felt the breeze the moved them, breathed in their air, their earthy, fresh scent. I experienced the trees. Experienced the motion of my limbs, the bobbing of my head as I walked, the sliding of my glasses down my nose, the light in my eyes, the blue of the sky... so real, so there, so now. I felt it in me, on me, around me... and I didn't feel the words.

The words I loved, the words that flowed through my mind and fingers... what happened to the words? They fell, got lost in the ever-present experience of now. I was... but I wasn't written. My actions got lost in their own action. I loved, I lived, I interacted... and I was so busy living that I didn't interact with my own actions. I didn't think about them, didn't stop to let the words play with the memories or mingle with the thoughts. There were no questions. There were no answers. There just was. What was.

And now, there is what is. And what there is is a resurgence of thought. A resurgence of dreams. And now, a resurgence of words. I still live more than ever... but the living has once again ebbed, the waves have subsided enough to allow reflection. And while it's not yet crystal, it's pretty clear to me: I love living. Within the last few months, the thing that's become most apparent to me is that writing is not essential to my living. I've discovered what it is to live in the absence of dreams, thought, and words. And it wasn't just writer's block this time - there wasn't even the desire to turn back. There was only forward, only present, only here and now. And to get the full taste of it, I left my old life behind... I stopped writing. I stopped dreaming. No more did I dream of a world apart from my own. I simply... lived. And it was wonderful. Glorious. Thrilling, enticing... absolutely and completely captivating. There were no worries, no doubts, no regrets... just life, just experience, just moment after moment of energy and being. I loved it. But I didn't, wouldn't, write.

I very nearly stopped writing altogether. There were only short, concise reports of important events, scattered here and there over a few months, unembellished and plain, written for the sole purpose of recording the occurence. There were no longer the long, flowing pieces of philosophical brilliance and commentary that there used to be. There were no longer creative pieces written for entertainment and expression. All there was was the bare bones of my life. Dreams, thoughts, and prose no longer took precedence. I was too busy enjoying life. To busy feeling the ups and downs, to busy being everything that I used to write about. Writing wasn't as important as before.

But now, after long months of isolation and longing, of being cut off from the life I was living in college, I have begun to revert. I find myself dreaming again in broad daylight, like I used to - making up characters, following them around in my head, all while my own body walks around, carrying this dream-world inside me. The largest portion of my day still revolves around living. I do less reading and more running, less writing and more talking. I go outside. But in moments of calm, in instants of rest, I find myself thinking again - dreaming again. At night, I read. I can again get lost in whole books for hours.

... and here I am now, writing for the sole purpose of writing, of thinking, blocking out the entire outer world for a world of words. Occasionally, I am stirred from my reverie, and come back to life... but I enjoy dreaming just as much as living. And living just as much as dreaming. Sometimes I have difficulty deciding between the two. So now, the pattern is this: live. Live the day away, exhaust your body, feel, breathe, live... and then write. Read a chapter. Read two. Fall into a vivid dream. And arise from it refreshed, to live again.

This is my life... living, writing, dreaming, thinking, running, being. I am a social person. I am an antisocial person. I am everything I want to be right now.

Right. Now.