storm

I forget the literary technique that describes the parallel between the weather and a person's thoughts. Tonight at muggs was a good little trip. I finished persepolis 2 and read a chapter of Ochem. I also had some stimulating conversation with Josh Boord and a fair amount of disgust for the 2 karas.

At least the girls in Miami U were going somewhere, the shallow form-over-function attitude of the displaced suburbanite "rebels" lathered with shallow sauce makes these people exceptionally unappealing. They're down-to-earth people sometimes. However, the "I drink all the time and smoke too much because it's cool" attitude annoys the piss out of me. I'm going to choose to let that blow past me though. I feel like it's kind of ironic that they incessently talked about attractive tall dudes a lot...like the iconic contrast in my head between the deep and narrow had to be leveled before I could go any farther.

There's one person who really stands above a lot of this shit, and that's Josh. He's a compliment to everything that I'm looking at in this odd interaction called "attraction." Tall, dark eyes and dark hair, smooth voiced, confident, skinny, musician, free spirit, and deep...he and I have had a connection for what seems like the better part of my life. He's the one person I can tear down the facade and talk to.

It's shameful how much he gets hit on by girls. The track that he chose is opposite of mine. I laid down my instruments and music to pick up the textbook. He picked up the novel and clutched the guitar. Both of us are looking for balance. Recently he picked up a good stable job, and works 64 hours a week. He's begun chastising people who simply "do whatever makes them happy in the immediate future" and he's catching flak for it. I feel like I've been saying this so much that I've burned too many bridges in Canton...that's why breaks get lonelier and lonelier.

I'm still set on this hard-pressed schedule and climbing the ladder toward wealth and my ultimate goal: finding a cure for my mother's disease.

Josh picked up my Ochem book for a bit and immediately took a mild interest. I explained a bit about endothermic reactions and why carbon is the element of life. He's intelligent enough to blaze through all the flaming hoops, but I don't think he has the motivation to do something that he's not passionate about.

Anyways, we talked about self-denial for a long period of time. It's worth not getting a shot in a bar to have a sandwich in Paris. It's worth not getting a case on a wednesday night to have a pauliner in Toledo, Spain. Neither he nor I have the opportunity for a quick trip to Europe without dire consequences affecting our future economic stability. We have to make sacrifices.

One of my sacrifices will have the largest payoff. I'm thinking of relinquishing my hate for someone who has warped my life forever. This involves a trip to North Carolina.
I've often imagined myself going there with a significant other for emotional support. The transference of negative to positive emotions would cause a huge connection to anyone...just as long as they could say the right things to me. This is something that I have to do by myself though.

The man has hundreds of thousands of dollars, all going to charities and various organizations.
I think I'm past the point of hate though. If there is a God in heaven he would want me to let go of my bitterness...if this is only chemical chance...there's no point in holding to some sort of metaethical code that can't be derived with solid logic.
Janee would never agree with me. She doesn't agree with me on a lot of things. I actually think that she's really mad at me because she chose to take her current boyfriend's ex girlfriend to Denver instead of planting things and drinking with me over this spring break.

Time is running out though. These people I want to speak to are dying quickly. I've noticed my habit of offsetting anger about this event to other people. When I was in Miami U, my dad was taking my new niece and autistic brother to have the mother of all confrontations with him. Dad got it on tape. Maybe I'll have the guts to listen to it some day.

I talked to Josh about this. That was definitely the way to go. Usually I talk about it to some random girl and that turns into a confusing mindfuck that ends up with either a horrible romance or an incredible weight.

It's stormy here. Canton is sordid.

Another thing that I brought up with Josh was my blatent discontent with the way we naked apes approach relationships. As the Karas chattered away about how so and so has great eyes or such and such is really rich, Josh and I talked about female companionship. "I just want someone to be around, lay with, or just sit and read with," Josh would say. One of the Karas interjects "I would love to just read with you," but both of us were thinking that this isn't the kind of companionship that he's interested in. I asked her to describe him in 3 words. Attractive was one, passionate was the other...the third was largely irrelevant.

Socially, people tend to let their self-perception dictate who they want to be with. Hence, Josh and my propensity toward shattering stereotypes works to our disadvantage because these facilitate easier acceptance. We both want something that could possibly be found in another country. Most likely we could call this "a different perspective" but then again it might also fall under the category "uncommitted relationships" or "psychosocial moratorium" or "culture shock." All we know, is that it's out there. Some of my best fiction came from my time in Spain. Some of my deepest revelations were on the banks of the Rio Tajo watching the watter flow over a retaining wall.

The readings for my Evolution class will probably result in some interesting reflections. Tomorrow I'm going to work the fuck out of the boflex to make up for lost time (finals week) and study the shit out of Ochem so I can keep from frying myself next quarter. Coffee with an old friend tomorrow, maybe I'll get my foot in with an older crowd. Thinking about it, I really hope that K doesn't hate me. It would be of little consequence if she did...seeing as how our conversation seems usually intitated by me and ended by her, but I don't want to have another sunk friendship just because of my projective identification or shifting thoughts.

Red is batting at a stray bead on the floor. I look at the wall laden with my mothers beads. How can she live like this? She spends hours a day making the most beautiful gaudy necklaces. People chatter about her work in a positive way. The pain in my eye and jaw as a result of this chalazion infection is distracting...I can't imagine what she goes through when she wakes up every morning. When I climb the steps at night I can't help but think with every step I might wake her from her infrequent light sleep. She says everything with a smile. "When I sleep, I don't feel like my body is on fire..." she laughs genuinely "I slammed my head on the corner of a door but didn't flinch because it feels normal!" Teary eyed and weary I'm turning to the professor to answer these questions: Why would a caring God do this to such a good servant of his? Is it all chemical randomness?

He's going to set me right again. With every lesson, more of his teachings set in. I love it. Too many thoughts for one night. Such a storm of ideas.