New Nightlight.

Jiving to the raw beats of Aesop once again.

I'm almost sentimental about the breath I'm breathing. I just got the email: confirmed. thank god.

I will never be less than this raw energetic and cerebral man.

Today I sat back for 3 hours as the people around me talked about things. The man across from me was a taoist and next to me was the fundamentalist. I told him what I know. Speaking felt good. Silence was great.

There are reasons why idealists and intellectuals congregate. Connecting is beautiful and complicated. It takes a submission of your usual guards and tropes. You're used to defending yourself or flexing what you know...at least if you're a "good" student ready to smash the world. However, it's hard for a lot of people to barrel down that impulse to express your passion and really ask what people are feeling and thinking. I've come a long way.

I learned football.

Things that I had no desire to acknowledge have come to a head here. In the grind there's hopelessness. Distractions rule. Over weeks I found myself not talking about anything but the sorry browns and the entertaining Tim Tebow and his QB runs. A real throwback.

I don't think of this as "connecting with common people" as I thought that it would be when I first carved out this time in my life. It's life. I am a human and this happened to me. Just like everyone else I walk in and punch the clock. Right now I'm living the struggle.

Just like everyone else I find myself clinging to dreams. Just like all the other temps I think it's just a phase. Time showed me that it is permanent. Gradually I slid into the moment of nothing and then I'd come back and think of the past.

Tonight I really realized that there is no "me and them" it's "us." I don't need a lot of words to show this. I hate the buzzer, love the breaks, enjoy the occasional free lunches, and fear the supervisor when I'm behind my quota. It's life. Fighting for food.

This fusion of perspective makes a dream that much more beautiful. I don't really know if what's going on right now is temporary. I will be dumbfounded if I get to Spain with my sax, books, and students.

Where did you come from?

Today a young fundamentalist folding papers next to me looked at me, smiling, and said "this is your life?" After a brief discussion about seizing the moment this came unexpected. I found myself defiant and defensive. "No, I'm just here for a bit. Passing through."

Right now I'm listening to Heartbeats.

The consulate called today. It was after a day that scooped the bottom of my patience and carved deep into my mind the feelings of having a meaningless grind for work.

Mystical tones and upbeat, whimsical lyrics grip me and haul me back to a not-so-long ago moment where it was different.

My boss is confident when I'm in the kitchen. He sat outside while I trayed and ran most of the food. I wiped down the plates diligently. Gray eyed. I served food and seized sides demanding "is this with the walleye? Are the seabass coming? Where's my side of fries?"

At the factory they've been mentioning my name for hire-in and saying "you're basically a part of the furniture now." It was one thing in my life to say "this is how you do it!" but now I realize what it feels like to live in it. You are commodified by everyone. How many years do you have? What are you capable of physically? What does your mentality allow you to endure? Alright, now put this in a box, run that food, and know your place.

People fight over scraps. A small conversation is permissible...barely. Temps are flowing in and out of the place to the displeasure of the frequently overweight female supervisors. Their jowls jiggle as they reprimand you for not going fast enough. You know that the real problem is that they make $9 per hour and have no hope. The kid, younger than you, across from you keeps hitting on a grandma just to pass the time.

Your fingers are black from folding an advertisement for 6 hours. Your feet hurt from standing. Thoughts and theories get duller as your sole stimulus is the dull drone of tow motors filing up and down large warehouse aisles.

Everyone is asking why you're here. They want to know your mistakes. The supervisor on the second floor is a middle aged black woman with short hair. She likes your tenacity but wonders if you're OK with being totally expendable to the company.

The professor is coming tomorrow to check on me at lunch.

I can't help but see this part of my life as already past. There are great moments with my sisters and the contrast is stark.

The Indian student gave me a little bit of entertainment as I taught her chemistry for a little while. She's too bright eyed and spoiled to be a companion though. No, you have to do your own work...I can't do it for you.

The call came today from the Spanish consulate. No message. I am nervous about it in a way. It's like I've gotten comfortable being a grunt without responsibility or hope. I will call tomorrow.

Capturing the Moment

Today we boxed fireplaces. 165 light oak, 5 cherry, 10 dark oak, 8 black. Chris and Mike did insert units and Pam boxed. Keith didn't pull me for orders, which was good. I got a lot done compared to most days.

Keith and Jeff almost never do work until Laura comes back. It still blows my mind that she manages so badly. Most of the time I meet quota until she pulls one of my guys to do something else. It's OK though. I write it off as a bad job. It's just temporary.

I've been saying that for two months.

What I hate is being yelled at or shot down for doing my job at a reasonable rate.

The restaurant was dead. Unfortunately Jen and Kayla were working too. I ran a lot of food but only had to bus half the tables.

I think I lost my chem student. She brought me a lab to do but had no data. I explained the lab to her for a half hour and charged her for a half hour. It's typical for students to want a direct answer when it's impossible.

I keep getting emails from medical schools asking for a doctor's recommendation. That's what everything is hinging upon at the moment. One piece of paper from a physician saying that I'm a good person. Such foul flaming hoops to jump through.

Recently I have been dancing. The foxtrot is the most fun so far. I don't like samba; it's too quirky.

Dance and personality go hand in hand. For me...the perfect dance is fast, calculated, sexy, and driven. I would be in control of her but not myself. I think that's Jazz... Poise is appealing too.

Sharon likes samba.

Sharon's a great girl. Again, there's a difference in age but we're taking things one day at a time. Anything quicker than that seems to be too much.

In addition to working extensively I am also volunteering and helping out with things around the house. Sunday football and reading. I'm studying biochemistry and biofuels. Along with this I'm doing some psychology reading about male/female communication in long term relationships.

Right now I'm frustrated with the stagnation. I'm seeing a girl who has been here for 15 years and is panicking about everything not going anywhere. She has no respect, no input, and no identity here.

I don't want that.

At the same time I see this as a time in my life that I should take in. There are too many people at the restaurant with perfect cookie-cutter lives who have never worked like this. I see my generation equivalent of the super-rich kids having kids and wonder if I'm getting something out of it.

Every day is a struggle of perspective. I no longer think I'm "stuck here" but I think "I am being here." I will breathe in Madrid in the coming month. I will see when I get to medical school. Breathing and seeing are unimportant. The translation of what comes out...is important.

What I do with this is impossible to say.

It is odd to watch right now. Everybody but me has their teeth sunk in to graduate school, jobs, relationships, plans. People ask, in a careless manner, "what are you doing?" I can't answer them quickly. Right now I'm a factory worker. That's all that's important...I guess.

Today was another day in the factory and bussing tables. Waiting is hard. The memories I have will hopefully be different than the moment.

Right now I feel so desperately impoverished from my surroundings that it's tough to give up hope. I feel like there's a weight in this wait that is a little too much for me to lift by myself.

The rumor now is that people are underemployed for their qualifications. That is a gross exaggeration of my situation. I'm still waiting for the peeps in Madrid to say that everything is OK for me to come...but still...tomorrow I'm going to Chicago to stone-faced tell them that I am going to Spain.

My plans are forked. I have $2,000 saved and can scrimp together $500 more in a week if I must.

A plane ticket to Madrid is $1300 and I have a month before pay if I get the job. If I don't....I'll be there for a week and then be unable to afford a ticket home.

In retrospect...those nights with Amanda weren't worth it. All that time that I spent up thinking about her call or coming hurt me. I was in Ochem at that time and not understanding anything. I have no one but myself to blame for this.

The blame game is where your mind goes when you feel powerless. I can blame so many things on my failure at this moment.

My parents for having me as a pet and neglecting me as a kid while horrible things happened from my brother and other members of my family.

This is negated by the fact that I have so many factors contributing to my success. None the smallest...my benefit from these challenges.

That neglect as a child allowed me to grow an unflinching attitude to immediate adversity. Whenever someone says something to me that hurts, whenever I'm put in a situation where I have to do more than what I should be doing, and whenever some place says they don't need me...I tell them to fuck off. I can handle it. I have had the most frustration any living being could face and felt all emotions in the face of something larger telling me all these things.

I remember one time my brother, bigger and much stronger, told me he would let me play a game if I did his chores. From this...I feverishly vacuumed the living room, washed the dishes, and moved plants. After all my hard work I was denied a reward.

Small incident.

But when this happens to you all the time you start to think of the logic behind it.

What did I do? What did they do so far? What do we get from doing these things?

Now whenever something happens I try, through mindful tact and some physical exertion, to outdo someone else. No one knows how hard that hit me. People just marvel at the results. Anything thrown at me will be met by sharp reason and my creative ability.

The frustrating thing is that i'm here and it's not the place for competition. The only challenge I have is teaching this high school girl chemistry. I do it well.

I feel suffocated here.

This is where the zen should come in. Any situation I'm in should be a reflection. It is an opportunity to better myself. This totally is. I am..

Scraping off fat is a disgusting affair. It's a bright yellow color. The woman this morning had a layer about an inch thick covering her breastbone. Her plump and featureless form lay pale under a surgical lamp. She was the subject of attention and marvel of several surgeons, assistants, and...recently...myself. "So round" seemed to be the sentiment of everyone in the room. I stood, as a ghost, in the corner and observed.

Waiting is hard. I talked to a DO that I shadowed today. I'm going to try to get in again next week. The artisanship and care is beautiful.

halloween

A little tired from a long night of hanging out with good friends in Kent. My car got stuck in the yard this morning and it took 8 people to get it out. The yard was torn up afterward.

Tonight I'm watching the walking dead with Corina and Travis. Melissa might be coming over to hang out. I'm hungry and tired.

Right now I am at peace. There's no music really for this moment.

Working this week and maybe next before I leave Heat Surge. If I get shadowing opportunities before then I'll be out this week. I'm biting my nails about medical school. I know when I get in I'll tear it up. The outside world kinda bores me. I need new information.

I have raccoon makeup on and my busser outfit. Showering.

tunnels and sunlight

It's a beautiful Saturday morning. A wearied governor lays in his bed and is startled awake by a white German Shepherd. The crick in his neck is from carrying furnaces on his head. The dryness in his mouth is from the beer he drank by himself watching a horror movie, too tired to go out. Sore chest, tight shoulders, and an aching back remind him that a fourteen hour day has its price.

The travel of August seems like forever ago. Right now I'm living the theory of contrast. I need to keep my head to the ground to really be able to look up at the sky. Bryan Adams and I smoke cigarettes on break and reminisce about our lives and bask in the irony of the situation. He is a special forces veteran trying to get a foothold in his place in the states.

There's also Charles. He's a playboy with dark skin and gold teeth. The first day he and John, our preacher, argued the finer points of scripture. Bryan talked about the illuminati while I just did my job and screwed the face plates and top units before Charles stuffed the plastic on them and boxed them.

The grist... It's a beautiful life to think about but living it is hard. $8.50 an hour for 40 hours a week. Heavy labor and light assembly is my job category. Then I work 15 hours as a busboy for $7.40. Overall, I save $350 a week to the bank. There's a split advantage to bussing. I make a decent amount of tips...like $25 for a 5 hour shift on average. That money goes to gas, food, confections to get me through the day, and gifts for others. My bank account rests at $1,000 and I have $400 coming in from this week and $350 coming from next week. On top of this I do odd jobs for my sister at the vineyard. $9.00 per hour. I have 33 hours unpaid I think. That's going in the bank.

The most refreshing work, beside the vineyard where I've met a nice woman to spend time with, has to be tutoring. Right now I tutor a bright eyed South Asian who speaks fluent English and has a good intuition about chemistry. That pays $18.75 per hour through a website but I will soon be making $20 cash. Not sure what to do with that $20...maybe I should start a fund for martial arts or dancing. Those get shoved aside because I'm so tired after work that I just want to sit. Reading has declined, sax is almost stopped, and I never go out. Contrast.

It's strange to see my life up here on a screen as a commodity. Is my life really worth $8.50 per hour or $20 per hour? I hate that. I love tutoring because it is an act of mutual respect, care, and artisanship. Her education is my goal and it's something I care about because she supports me.

My parents are out of town. It's great to have the house to myself. I'm listening to eminem, undisturbed drinking an extra strong bustelo coffee. Scout misses them.

I see this, in a crude metaphor, as a tunnel through which I'm running. My own pace dictates how quickly I progress but the world alone can tell me when I'm out. Summer was like this. An extremely fun 30 days filled with education, drama, frustration, elation, and intrigue. Before that I was working in the blistering sun planting and bussing tables. Studying the MCAT and writing to a lover who was slipping away. I lost my phone and convinced myself that there was no one worth talking to because I would get distracted. Now I have a phone and no one to call.

There is light though. This Tuesday I'm interviewing to volunteer at Mercy again. I'm going to Dr. Schiowitz to get a recommendation and some more shadowing experience. Today I'm mailing that background check to get authenticated in another D.C. office. However, I have my chips down in South America January 17th if Spain doesn't work out. No matter what, I have 3 months left in the tunnel at most. At least I have a month.

Right now I'm listening to techno and thinking about my lack of creative outlets.

That's a lie.

I've always discounted this voyage of discovery that I embody in these texts. Joyce compared the act of creation to that of urine excretion...the metaphor is crass but has some truth to it. You've ingested something and it emerges from you. However, the intimacy that this liquid has in your body is expunged when it leaves you. It is warm at first...then it is a putrid substance conducive to rancid bacterial growth and capable of harm to those around.

My experience is intimate to me. I pay for it with my hours and years and then create this to satiate my need to excrete something. Then I abandon it. Maybe the work will take on a life of its own and affect others in a different way. Not make them sick...hopefully.

This metaphor also speaks to my struggle with time. What is to say that the "me" of today is the same "me" of tomorrow? On a molecular level...I'm not me. My genes don't change (excluding those pesky occasional somatic mutations) but with each meal I'm switching the carbons in and out of my biochemical pathways. With each urination I get rid of the nitrogen and so forth.

This is where I think a little more abstract: this applies to thought too. Each experience switches out a preconception or idea that we've had. The response I would have to female rejection right now is drastically different to that of five years ago. I would lash out and deconstruct her problems in front of her and attempt to make her feel angry and foolish for her actions. Now, I nod and smile. Maybe tell a joke. My personality now is one of understanding, waiting, and forgiveness. I have moments where I just want to showcase what I'm doing to people I care about or want to impress...but I find that listening is the way to learn. I've heard my story told enough times...and I don't like hearing myself talk.

So yes. I have only an abstract and theoretical connection to the young man who was suspended from school for behaving like a fool that night. His lesson is always in my head though. I am only me in the moment. This makes me tend toward the behaviorist theories about identity, which kind of excludes it. Stimulus-->Response. Right?

This bustelo is butt kicking coffee. It takes forever to brew because it's so finely ground. I might just be an idiot and be drinking espresso through a coffee machine...whatever though. It's good.

The leaves outside are changing. It's dry and cold in this house. The plastic heads showing off their jewelry sit gawking at me. My family is strange. I love them though. This time at home is making me more and more at peace with the nature of my upbringing and the course of my future...whatever that means.

My family sure has its flaws. Who doesn't though.

Alright. I've excreted enough for one day. It's time to start doing my application for Midwestern.

I'm feeling strange these days.

The highlight of my evening is checking my mail. I spend 40 hours a week assembling and packing cheap amish fireplaces and fixing faulty Chinese wiring. I bus tables at a fancy restaurant. Right now I pull $400 a week and only spend $50. It's more money than I've had.

Today they sent an older woman back to box with Mike, Jeff, Keith and I. The experience is so different than what I'm used to but I wanted this. I wanted a taste of the "real world" and now I've got more than I can handle.

On the plus side: I'm interviewing at the hospital and have the green light for my dreams.

It has been an interesting past week. Nose to the grindstone again. I feel like today I got the pieces back together my way. I went to a full day of work in assembly. Tomorrow I will do a full day of assembly and a 6 hour shift at the restaurant. It feels great getting down to this sort of work.

Now, reducing the incredible intermittent experience to a few numbers: Say $320 per week at the factory for the next three weeks? Say $100 per week from the restaurant (that's what I'll actually retain from all the cash that goes through my hands) $1260 in the next three weeks. By then I will probably be done with this work and on to something else. That's enough for my plane ticket after taxes. That puts me in November. I'm thinking that I might have to shoot for four months instead of 6 because I won't have the money to stay there that long.

In the meantime I worked a very interesting day with some great people. Charles. Bryan. John. Black construction worker from inner city Canton. Pudgy baby faced ex military from Tusc. Balding man from Canton. The conversation drifted to some interesting masonic mythology and politics. Religion dabbled into the discourse. It was a great 8 hours of talking. Between the four of us we have a lot of interesting experience. For the most part the balding man ran his mouth about Christianity being the one true religion and Democrats endorsing slavery. It was really immature but I realize that, if any of it, this is what needs to be talked about. However, when I try to bring up a study or statistic that I had come across it was quickly replied to by an anecdote or hypothetical statistic.

I had a great night with a woman the other night. For the most part Fromm and the professor were in my head all night. They convinced me to open up a bit and a great night resulted. We're meeting up this upcoming Sunday. Tomorrow there will be Trivia. I have a job request from a biology employment service.

Right now I'm listening to angry rap and I'm about to go home to lift weights. Then I'll probably drink some gin and watch something informational. I need closure, a city, a better job, and certainty. Again, the prattles in the back of my head says: you have the simple beauty of Massillon, you know that your MCAT went through and med schools will come if you wait, you have an interest in a woman, you have a close job that's above minimum wage.

$1260 into November. That's not including random weekends working with my sister. I have a few hundred dollars stashed away in that area. I have $355 in the bank and $150 in uncashed checks. I'm making it slowly but certainly.

I'm a little shell shocked by being locked into something again. Summer showed me that I can blast through money like nothing if I so choose. However, I have to make this last and make this work. I'm in "zero spend mode" where I don't touch my cards for anything small. If I need beer, gas, coffee, food, or anything else...it comes out of the cash from my tips. I don't go out much because of that but this is a good thing because I spend next to nothing.

Right now I'm seeing a good girl who is the exact balance of intellect, fun, and interest that I want. What's better, she's not a flitter. It's like I get to build experience with her.

Interesting that I look at these blogs before I started killing the demonic angels of the impressions of my former lovers. Daily past the start of junior year I thought less of kts and struggled with insecurity. I think I lost all mysticism for that thought with a quiet night in the barn with a pale, skinny, sickly beauty that thought I fiercely loved and missed. When I brought my head back up I realized that it was just conjecture. Then there was the fiery and endless lovemaking with the jubilant woman.

She is going through a rough time now that she's left. I miss her and want to comfort her. At the same time I realize that she needs to not spring into the arms (harm) of any man but make sensible choices. I don't know what gives me that authority...it's certainly not age.

Anyways. I had a great time this past Friday night with all my friends. The scuzzy dudes came out and we got down with senselessly deep but senseless conversations.

I need to get up from this chair and curl some weights or I'm going to go crazy. My body feels like it needs sex on a regular basis. There is probably a lot of truth to that. Dopamine improves mood and allows for control of movement. Yeah. My neurochem is rusty. this morning I learned a little lipid chemistry. It's interesting.

Yes. Weights. Now.

Isolation and Death

As of late I have been in a different state: unwanted isolation. Here's what has been happening recently:

Work at a cheese factory for a solid 48 hour work week.

Released to alternative employment.

I will miss the screaming nurse and the cheese presses. The smells and machinery is unforgettable. Smells like cold steel and feeling of warm whey as I slam tanks together and line them with cloth for product to press.

Microbiologist: $8 an hour. Factory worker $10 an hour. Yikes.

$10 an hour to clean the filters on activated sludge tanks with a bunch of chain smokers and farm boys. Putrid smells and covered in muck but the work is rewarding.

Released from that job. Took a temp position in a door factory at $8.75 per hour. Twisted ankle at four in the morning took me out of that job. Now I'm bussing the necropolis only. Working in vineyards. Met a nice older buddhist as the hostess is leaving my sphere of reality. Mixed feelings but overall I'm feeling stoic about this relationship. I know we're not right for each other but right now it seems right so I'm going with it.

So here I am. Far from my goals. It's 79 and sunny in fair Madrid where I thought I would be working. An illusion that broke late August when all the phones were silent. Spain was on vacation when I wanted to hear a definitive "yes" for work and a "I'm sorry" for the runaround. Instead I took a step back.

If I could talk to myself at the beginning of the summer I would say a few things:

Don't leave your phone on the hood of the car!

I missed out on some important dialogue with a skinny brunette that I cared more about than I thought. I lost out on some quality time with the fraternity by burying my head in 60 hour work weeks and scheduling a trip.

Don't go out for the summer!

Losing all that money in the name of experience was foolish. I cherish the memories but I could be, arguably, better suited for medical school at this moment and better trenched in employment by now. My interaction with the French woman was neither profound nor satisfying in the way I expected it and it was impossible to repeal those expectations. The dark eyed woman had all I wanted in the way of intellectual intrigue, sexual satisfaction, and playful contentment. Grabbing that phantom of a transatlantic romance was a horrible misstep on my path. I learned from the experience of a mistake.

Don't apply for Spain!

With one foot in the door for medical school and AmeriCorps itching for my signature onto a project of which I was passionate...I slammed the door (catching my foot). $1000 per month seems paltry...but it's better than the resume-killing temp jobs that I'm doing right now and the insecure soul-draining factory work which I must do now. I passed up an opportunity to do real and lasting good for the opportunity to have an epic experience in another country. Had I stuck to AmeriCorps I could have taken the summer with Ambre guilt-free because I had the net of a great job and the security that I will be able to be with her in France after my term was up. I would have been close to the dark eyed woman and all my fraternity brothers. Instead I am floundering to convince an AmeriCorps post to overlook my lack of a month service in their year-round-only programs.

Get a temp job in the summer!

Landscaping was satisfying for one week but then the $7.40 for inconsistent work requiring my truck and no paid gas...killed a lot of what I could have been earning.

If we look back a far ways: Apply earlier!

To look back gives me anguish. The losses of time, life, power, and knowledge are something to grieve endlessly. However, the moment is beautiful. A well-weathered woman wants me. I am in the cushion of suburban security with a baseline job that gives me $200 per week. I have a great opportunity with Janee to make intermittent cash working with attractive women and interesting friends at the vineyard. The pay is good, there is food, and I can talk to people who interest me while being outside and harvesting wine grapes.

Toward the future I have another fork in the road: South America or Australia. The French girl would not be my focus in Australia but I could actually be close to her while procuring employment. Loans are tricky: I need to pay them while I am in South America. Right now I'm setting aside money to do this.

Here comes the list:

Australia

Exotic spp

Adventure

Some contacts

No Spanish

Cash

South America

Exotic Spp

Adventure

Spanish

No money

No contacts

Better resume builder

Right now I'm in the tank for both. It's the 3rd of October. I'm in Massillon. All my friends are gone and I have a shredded ankle. It's gloomy outside. January 16th I will leave for one or the other. Right now I don't know. Applications for medical schools are out and I'm waiting. No matter how impressive I may be it still comes down to this: who gets in first?

The numbers and resume looks good: Roughly 3.5 GPA with heavy bio, Spanish, chemistry, and English coursework. 31S MCAT score. Three science recommendations (Ochem, micro, and biology profs. one on a very personal level) and one nonscience (Spanish literature and criticism). Two hospital volunteer experiences, study abroad work, a full course and paid time in the lab, two years tutoring, and a lot of real world experiece. Some shadowing experience. A misconduct in my behavior followed by a clean record and good community involvement.

Just give me a look into the future and I'll grin through the work as I barrel toward the future but right now all I see is mistakes. It felt good listening to the man on the phone though: You need a 22 MCAT and a 2.7 GPA to be considered for interview or secondaries. I'm running circles around those requisites but soooo edgy waiting.

I miss friends! I have Christa until Thursday but after that I'm on my own. I will call the professor, Brandon, Bethani, and Jeff tonight to try to hang out with someone. Community is essential to keep positive. I'm sure we could have some good times together. I just need to keep myself and others from isolation and death.

running

At this point I feel like I need my space to get back on that track where I can be appreciated. Petty quarrels and emotions get in the way of productivity. Physical activity propagates my potential to learn. Learning makes me sharp as a person. If I am sharp then I love myself for it. If I love myself then I am more physically active and better able to love other people. Consequently. I'm going for a long run today.

Seeking

I've heard people say that no one would go to the internet if it were a real place. It would probably resemble a truck stop or something much worse.

Out of sheer boredom I put out some ads on craigslist. Swing dancing was addictive in New Orleans...as was having a platonic female friend around 24/7. I want that with someone around the area.

Distance

It has been two days and it already feels like forever. Last night I laid out my thoughts to Corina. She slapped me in the face with a question I had been pondering the whole time: You blew two thousand dollars and quit working just to go with a girl that you can never fall in love with or never be with?

Yes.

Do you regret it?

I don't know. I can only move on from what I have. Those memories are going to be precious. I'm not sure I'll see her again or if I'll really miss her but I have some crazy memories from this trip. I've never had a vacation.

What about Spain?

True, that was a lot of fun. I was working about 35 hours a week on school and learning Spanish. This was the first time where I just travelled.

What are you going to do now?

I have several options and tracks. I do. I regret blowing all my money on travel. I regret leaving good jobs and letting my plants die. I regret losing my relationships with E, N, and stopping my communication with H over work for that trip that is just gone, over, and like it never happened. I regret that I wasn't in the right spot to get my visa figured out. I regret that I didn't study more for the MCAT. I regret expecting, as every person that I talked to, that she would be romantically interested. I've messed up a crucial part of my life but I can't take it back...I can just make the best of the friendship I made with Ambre. She's a great girl.

So you never thought she was the one? I don't believe that people are "the one"

She could be. I'll never know though because I have such different tracks than her. She likes totally different things and by the time we were connecting...she left. For romance: I have nothing going with her. She might even be more interested in women.

What are you going to do now?

Continue visa application. Send out more medical school applications. Work at Clay's, Sylvester's, Barrel Run, and the full-time light industrial or biotech job for which I'm interviewing. I can work UPS November-Christmas for $12.88 an hour, Barrel run for $10 an hour until harvest is over, intermittently at Sylvester's, and at Clay's until the end of summer for $7.40 an hour. The biology jobs are up in the air. If I go to Athens I can be close to dark-eyed woman and the fraternity. I would have connections and roots to people I love and activism. DHI might want me and AmeriCorps is going to interview me for a position in managing Appalachian coal damage: something I feel very strongly about.

At the end of the day: I'm grateful. The love in my life has sustained me to the point where I crushed the MCAT, did a trip that no one ever thought possible, had a meaningful summer, met a beautiful and intelligent lover in Athens and we had our time together. I have had wonderful friendships with people in the fraternity that are going to last a lifetime. I have the greatest life I could imagine.

Sure, I could be taller and more attractive. That would dull my resolve to prove myself to people. I would fall into mediocrity and not develop my thought or theology to the point it is today. The only thing I want to change right now is my biochemistry: less geared toward a sedentary lifestyle. In other words: I need to work out like a beast these next few months.

I miss waking up next to Ambre. I miss her deep laugh when she lost control of herself. I love the way she would stumble around words and conclude that the wrong pronunciation had to be right. Her spirit was exciting. She has more energy than any woman I have met. Mentally active, inquisitive, physically attractive, philosophically inclined, open-minded, and very compassionate are all words that I would use to describe her. If she was American and interested in me...nothing would stop me from trying to be her someone. Language is not something to be discounted though. I am a man of words and action.

I don't miss the worry. Every second I was thinking: Is she entertained? Does she have any physical needs? Is she perceiving me as weak because I can't figure this out? Does she know how frustrated I am by the fact that she misunderstands me? I felt cuckolded by my own idiocy.

I'm off to fax the attourney general my information of a sealed background check. More frustration...go!

Night Light

Hatred is so much easier. Taking the dystopian perspective and the harsh, grating tones of screams at those that mistreat you. It's easy and magnificent. Aggression has release where acts of kindness kindle and simmer for a while.

My aggression has given me power. It was through the hatred of my brother that I left Canton. It was a cacophonous corruption of the "home life" score that made me work as much as I did so far. Right now I'm under the influence of Aesop's Night Light.

I know that this is only half the story. The trip taught me love and selflessness. I'm out of it with a more well-rounded appreciation of interaction.

Let's start from the beginning so that I might contrast the enlightened ending with the crude beginning.

On the bus ride to Avila I kept asking this French girl questions. At the time my perspective was one of relationships and love-only sex. I had only 1 one-night stand at that point but I felt really bad about it. I was a timid lover and an uninformed English student with a vested interest in biology and Spanish. She was attractive and slightly eccentric but I was really interested in French ideas because I was around Americans most of the trip.

The last night in Spain she asked me if I wanted to come into her room. At that point I was never ok with getting together with a girl for one night so I said no. For a while I thought that was a bad idea but now I realize that I'm glad I kept myself out of the realm of possibilities.

After a while the emails picked up and I dreamed of going to France. Sophomore year passed with only a single girl I made out with a few times and then there was the Heather time-sink that fucked my mind up for a while. I would intermittently write to Ambre without thinking much about it.

There was one incident at my sister's wedding with a woman that I hated. It was more out of anger than love that we kissed and clutched. This is when I was OK with one night of sharing myself.

Junior year it picked up slightly to about once per month. Her life seemed serene from the screen; it seemed like grape fields, French universities, occasional wine parties, and the classy way of European life was all that she had every day. I coupled the fragments of her life with my experience in Spain and concluded that she would be the embodiment of European culture: free spirited, a nihilist intellectual that was sympathetic, epicurean, fit, and too good for most of the people that I was around.

Mixed in the saturation of my college experience she was a seed in the back of my mind...growing to an ideal that was better than everything I was around. Junior year brought back a lot of conflict and some great romances. The more I learned the more I could connect with people in a powerful way. It seems like the articulation allows a deeper way of looking at people into their soul.

This is when the blonde girl came in. Activism and love were around her but she was so inconsistent. The problems that Heather put in my head, insecurity and frustration, were dissipated by the way she responded to my presence or touch. It was really beautiful to talk with her on the roof and drink good beer.

She was inconsistent though. There were nights that I couldn't meet but would sacrifice my time studying chemistry for a night of discussion and kissing. School was important to me to help my mother. Organic chemistry was horrible at this time.

I think I started planning a trip with the French girl after this girl flaked out on me. It was a rebellion against events in my life. I thought: different country has a different value system so...this girl must be a consistent and assertive person who loves deeply and can sharpen my perspective. For the most part I never thought she would come to the US. It was a cautious and feigned presentation of myself in some emails. Then they got more genuine. There were details that I left out and there were carefully chosen events that I put in.

I planned on France my senior year winter break. But...as always...I messed it up. I crashed my friend's truck and had to work back the $1300 that the paint job costed. That blasted my chance at a trip. Then she took the helm and ordered a ticket for summer. In the web chats I got a sense that she was genuinely interested in getting to know me personally. I thought that all that culture, philosophy, and energy was coming my way. When something like that comes my way it is difficult for me to refrain from taking it and creating a beautiful romance out of it.

Senior year brought beautiful relationships and friendships. I had opportunities in Athens, California, and Spain. I drew the possibilities up on the board. My heart said stay in Athens but everyone kept saying that I would never have this opportunity again. I thought it was ridiculous because I know myself and I know what I am capable of. I turned down the Athens job and let loose a love affair. I accepted Ambre's wish to come to the United States with me and I trashed my chances with two other girls. I thought that it would be worth it.

I can't blame them though. What woman could stomach the idea that their man would travel the country with a single, foreign, female companion?

What I got was completely different. Her interest was in the road. It was apparent in Chicago that she wasn't interested in learning my ideas. It was apparent that her command of English wasn't good enough to have fluent communication. It was apparent, very quickly, that I had made a mistake in my planning.

How could I have known? I read her emails to my roommate occasionally and he told me that they seemed to be genuinely interested in exploring my life as well as my culture. I misjudged the amount of interest that she would have in me though. In conversation it felt like I had to vomit details about my thought process or passions. Even when we were enjoying a dance without words it seemed like there was an apparent gap of extravagant frustration.

There was also the reduction of this anticipation to the confection of sex. In the background of the fraternity's objectification of females I really wanted a connection. Making out with a young attractive female naked ape has no feeling...but it is pursued and attained by most men in college at the parties I hosted/attended. In the morning after we got to New Orleans when she said "I will not have sex with you. I know that's what you want."

When those words emerged from her mouth in broken and thickly accented English I felt a wave of shame, frustration, and disappointment. This was not going to be easy or even possible to communicate my ideas or desires with her. Sex happened in college. It was ever more frequent as the days went on and, as I got more fit, more hot each time. It became an art and a sport that I loved to practice with one particular girl with whom I felt a paternal-like love for. If sex was what I wanted, I would have stayed with this woman and enjoyed those nights.

I'll admit, now that I talk about it...I really enjoyed everything about that time in college. Tilapia, wine, and cigarettes on the porch between lovemaking and tender touching.

I knew in my mind that the dark-eyed woman and I, though it was the most satisfying and mature endeavor I think I will have for many years to come, would not work out because of her inability to reside completely in the present. I still, and will always, really want to provide myself to her for her enjoyment and betterment. She's a sexy intellectual and caring woman.

So, back to the progression of this relationship, I was jarred. If she was a native English speaker I would never have forgiven her for this. It was like 3 years of anticipation and communication was reduced to a summation of my desires: ejaculation. I wanted all those things that make us human and I was misread as being a greedy animal. She was uncomfortable around me after she could tell I was disappointed.

That day I just wanted to be away. Alone. Not alone. I wanted to be understood. Fromm's teaching then came to me and I helped someone. This made me feel better slightly.

The rest of the trip was an educational exercise in patience and care. We had fights, good nights, dug deep into each other's physical needs to understand body language for when the other was hungry, angry, tired, or frustrated. It was rudimentary but still something of a connection.

In North Carolina, after the taxing stress of visiting my evil grandfather...we bonded. I think that the fact that she made a mistake that cost me 5 hours caused her to be a little less standoffish.

Last night I feel like we got closer than we ever had before. Her language and comfort allowed us to trek into some philosophy. She's a smart girl. She's really sweet as well. After the coffee shop we drove around Canton. I got lost, maybe intentionally, and talked about the trip.

She wanted to know what I expected. This was it. If I visited France I would do so to experience the culture but I think I would be more focused on developing a connection with her.

Another interesting aspect of this whole trip was the fact that she was a lens to see myself. I realize that these expectations were selfish and juvenile. The travel made me realize that I love America. There is a lot here and there is nothing to run from. The mind is its own place. No matter where I am I will be sharpening myself.

Right now...I'm anxious. I'm afraid that, when I get up from the keyboard, the spines in my hippocampus that were created by this trip will begin to be reabsorbed into the cellular membrane. Suddenly this frustration will be rosie-recalled and I will think this was one of the best things that ever happened to me.

I have to swallow my anger and shit it out as I run away from this experience with the values I got on the train to New Orleans and the bus to New York. There is beauty in loving everyone. Withholding love causes your soul to rot. I touched the face of my old religion and found that it is not the spiny flytrap I thought it once was.

I have to hug the joy that I felt with her and cling to it. If I let it go I might resent those days shoveling the clay dirt in 102 degree weather with high humidity. I might resent those plates that I diligently and quickly brought to the dishwasher. I might resent not studying more for the MCAT or trying to trek to Dayton to see good friends. I might resent jumping in the river when every logical sense said "no." If I cling to that moment though...it was all worth it.

That moment I realized that nothing was wasted with her. The end of the trip where we understood each other was nice.

Right now I'm sitting in the coffee shop, thinking about going to work to pick up that check. Thinking about going to Columbus tomorrow to get those documents in order.

Thinking about her is good now. I know who she is. I know what she wants and does. I have no exaggerated imagination about the quality of foreign people being far-superior to those in my own country. When I go to France next year I will most likely go with a group of her friends and family. When she first mentioned this I was frustrated because I wanted another month to get to know her...but now I realize that our best times were with other people. Together we quickly run out of things to say unless she or I are expending a massive amount of energy trying to get the other to share how they are feeling or thinking.

If the experience wasn't one of provision I would feel much worse about it. She seemed concerned last night about the nature of care and what I do for myself or others. Initially, the trip was for myself. I thought it would be amazing catharsis and contrast. After our fight in New Orleans I sincerely considered leaving and working my ass off to gain as much money as possible. However, I realized it would be a horrible thing to do to that girl. God forced his way into my forebrain through the receiver in my samsung telephone when the dark-eyed woman said "if you don't give this now you will regret it for a very long time."

The cities and experiences were beautiful. Chicago is a beautiful and tall city. Everything there is clean. I have most of my experiences written down. Being a vagabond was great.

I feel amazing casting her off at the airport though. Right now I'm back to the track of work. I have a list of things that I need to get in order. My body is wondering what I have been doing these past 4 weeks. It misses rowing and night hikes. My mind misses chemistry and Spanish (admittedly...this is strange). My fingers want to clutch the saxophone or arrange plates. As soon as I get out of here I'm going to inflate the tires, maybe put my hands in the garden, look up French tutoring, and apply for some AmeriCorps positions.

I don't vacation well. In New York I realized that production is my default setting. I think this happened after I quit that one neuroscience research position.

This is more time than I've had to myself than I've had in a while. Sometimes when I wake up I look frantically for a frizzy haired French girl to sooth my head. When it comes to people...I do care for others before myself. I know this. I know that caring for people makes me feel like I someone should care for me...and someone will.

I think a conversation with Janee will put things into perspective. Overall, I'm glad that I have a strong tie to a friend in France. I need to simmer down with this speculation.

I feel the sinews of my body tensing every moment as I progress toward tomorrow. Every breath carries that deadly and beautiful mother oxygen to my tissues. Most importantly...my neurons keep kicking in the same way they've been as the years past.

Things are different now though. I had never thought that things could go this well. So many frustrated nights were spent working...like a mad poet or artist...learning my craft. There has been a lot of pain and moments where my heart felt like it was so heavy that the world would claim it as its own. Again and again I push myself toward what I think and feel is right. Often, I had no clarity as to what I was doing....or why.

The pieces all are falling into place. Sometimes they go naturally and sometimes I force them. The past 2 months before August were saturated with studying and work. Stripping barbed wire, bussing tables, serving food, washing dishes, planting things in the hot sun...all of it was taken into my conscious experience like water. Now my dendritic spines are arranged and arraigned in my hippocampus to, when prompted, relive those moments of difficult striving.

Now I'm in a bus. It is comfortable and I'm sitting next to a strange but pleasant companion. In a way, this is as much work as carving that clay to house the plants that I wanted so badly to put into the earth.

It takes a brand of open-palmed clinging in order to survive in this lifestyle. The first two weeks of August were spent in uncertainty and anxiety. What is my relation to Ambre? Where will I go after this month? What the hell did I get on the MCAT? Is everything going to be OK with Spain? Can I afford all this? Will the dark-eyed woman and I just have isolated memories of each other? Wha...? What is Love and how do I interact with people? How should I feel about what I'm doing? Where is God?

Now I have some more answers and more questions. I'm still assured of my strength and plasticity...but still unsure of the best course of action.

First I'll put down what I know now.

I know that the God of affirmative logic and my youth is an instrument of intolerance that placates the minds of people who would otherwise be loving, productive, and contented with their status. It propagates greed and fear of death. It is a tool for self-advancement.

I know now that my God is one of Love. I should ask nothing from it and pretend to know nothing of it. Paradoxical logic will explain better the non-being of God. The words of Jesus Christ should be followed and, as I know him, he was the physical embodiment of Love. I don't think that the secret name "Jesus Christ" is the password to a place of angels and gold streets. I don't claim to know but I understand through opposites that Love is what should flow through me because it gives life.

This should be my labor: be mindful of where I am, practice the teachings of Jesus Christ without condemnation or condescension to those who practice differently, lead by example and precept those around me to be more loving and productive, refrain from excess that destroys the integrity of the vessel that contains my consciousness, and pursue Love that I may be lovable...not for any other reason.

I know that eroticism, though extremely satisfying and something which I strive to master, should not be taken lightly or executed without a feeling of connection. Performing this without the heart voids the action of its intimate meaning.

I know that I'm an amazing applicant to medical schools and that I will be sharp wherever I land.

I don't know the best course to get the greatest return for my effort.

I don't know what will happen with the dark-eyed woman. I know that I care for her and look forward to our every meeting. The fact that I know her gives me a lot of joy.

I know that Ambre and I are friends and nothing more. At first I was discontent with this fact but I'm glad that we had a spat about it. It gave me a new perspective regarding human interactino. I shouldn't take myself too seriously but need to where it really counts.

I was shocked to see that I am among the top 1-5% of the writers that have taken the MCAT. For the longest time I thought that I was horrible at timed essays but, thankfully, this proves that I am not.

I know that I can accept a multitude of AmeriCorps positions and would be benefitted by this. I'm not sure the best way to go about this though.

I know I need to meet with my advisor to sort this out.

Daylight

I woke up to the idea of rejection, a sick feeling in my stomach, a disturbing but fun memory of last night, and anger. Daylight found me an enemy and angry at its presence.

As I walked through the city streets of New Orleans I blistered my foot and toured the places around the town. Ate lunch by the river with a homeless man. That man dragged me quickly out of the champagne problems of a disconnect in love.

I want to bring him here so I can remember him. Feeling the loneliness of the morning I walked by this man who was sitting by the pier. He was raucous but genuinely nice. We went to a seafood place and he spit his story to me. It was jolting and intense. He was a welder who was losing his sight and consequently had eye surgery. I saw the scars. He was grateful, personable, and cried when I mentioned my stint in Chicago. When he spoke about family...I didn't understand it but he was crying. He said the bottle came after but he's 59 and has nothing

I wanted this moment to happen. It gives me a sense of passion and happiness that I can help people. I love that man's spirit and I feel compassion for him. He was very thin. I just hope that, should I ever be in that situation, that someone would buy me a burger and hear my story.

Travelling. You're spitting your story so much that your mouth gets dry. You want to drink in something clean and refreshing. You discover something about yourself when you love another person. I was self-involved this morning but after that I realize that my problems are petty and that my goal is to help people. I went to the medical school afterward to take a tour.

got my head back on

eros and kronos

I'm sitting in my Chicago hotel after a very refreshing week with my companion from France. We drank in the signature room on the 95th floor of the John Handcock building, saw memorials and monuments, went to a Cubs game, drank with Gongola, and saw a wonderful museum involving art for wounded soldiers. Afterwards there was always drinks, good food, and broken but delightful conversation.

Listening to the soundtrack to the Fountain, again, and thinking back at the past...again. It seems like spring always brings blossoming romances and interesting new ideas to me which thin out during long and lonely summers. There is beauty in them. Swimming in the moonlight in the old High Mill lake, picking vegetables with my sisters, and working in the sun for a petty wage were my passtimes two weeks ago. Now Ambre is here and we're travelling around.

I can't say that I'm not thinking about the moment. No expectations is always the way to go.
I can't help but think though that this trip shouldn't have happened from the perspective that it wedged me out of several important relationships. This shouldn't be accompanied by a sense of entitlement to some adamant connection...but it's strange that she is oblivious to the fact that it shredded my chances with a few other wonderful companions.

So, we're packing for the train to New Orleans. I'm hoping to get a hold of my friend there to show us around the city. We'll see how it goes.

A Foggy Heat

When comparing the capabilities of the human body there are several things directly apparent. We are, in fact, mammals and consequently we generate body heat. This allows us to withstand cold via shivering and behavioral adaptations. Unfortunately we can't take off as many layers as we put on...and heat finds us ill-equipped.

Yet, I find myself landscaping with a heat index well over 100. It's tough to dig a hole when you're forced to constantly wipe sweat off your forehead.

The MCAT is over finally. I find myself in that awkward reminiscent phase where an individual has reached adult maturity but it's most convenient for me to live at home. My parents gloat over my maturity and work ethic. They brag my accomplishments to other churchgoers as though I'm 7 again and they just dressed me up in a little sailor outfit. Fortunately, I am less than 2 weeks away from an adventure which I'll remember forever.

It's incredible what a cell phone can do these days to make or break your social life. In my case, not having one makes landscaping surprisingly difficult and planning outings almost impossible. I managed to get a few drinks in with the princeton biochemist and had a night in the barn with the guys and a fire. Apart from that...flatline.

This has allowed me to get closer to Jason and to myself. Leadership requires loneliness I heard in a seminar on the radio when I was leaving the dark eyed woman's house.

Humans are social creatures, definitely. However, if we externalize too much of ourselves it seems like we become the herd. By myself, I have had a lot of different thoughts. It is interesting that I'm ingesting minimal science. The last thing I read was about the molecular mechanism of the sensation of scent. Although fascinating, it has a totally different meaning to me now that I'm no longer in school. This September I'm setting out to teach myself physical chemistry.

As usual, I'm going to pass over what I know at this stage in my life.

Right now, I'm great at physiology and have the chemistry to back it up. Organic, biochemistry, and general chemistry are solid right now. I really want to understand explosions though.

Looking at my transcripts I have had all these English classes that were professionally useless. I'm so glad that I caught them though. I love books and the idea that language controls us is still resonant with my thoughts. Some ancient Greek philosopher said that philosophers make good doctors. When trying to look that up the first thing that came up was "do philosophers make good lovers?" Interesting question. I tend to think that a well-read scientist is the best.

Speaking of which, this Dark Eyed woman. I've never met someone who gets it this much. This aspect of her personality is the most attractive. I don't know if the confidence of years or the mastery of language gives her this strangely powerful attractive capability but she's magnetic. The insecure transience of the relationship and the semi-scandalous beginning add a dynamic aspect to the relationship which I treasure as well.

She is nurturing person with a magnetic mind and a stern maturity. She is a very deliberate and leisurely lover; this couples perfectly with her intense ability to draw my mind up to discourse and down to instinct rapidly. I will always remember sitting next to the computer and getting sound advice writing an essay then touching her arm. Mind is there one minute in full engagement and then suddenly a rapacious seizure of desire attacks me. I feel like we better each other.

The nearing of my departure finds me mostly excited. In Chicago I'm going to meet up with the housing corps president for a drink.

Heartbeats just came on my playlist. This song was my Spring Quarter. That confusion is great. I love the memory of just looking into those dark eyes when we were intimate and feeling their sweeping pleasure. In the moment we were consumed in each other...perfectly. I think about her expression of bliss for a second and the appreciation that we had for each other. Exchanging favors in and out of the bedroom. Our affection has so many levels. Lovers, partners, antagonistic debaters, penpals, teacher/student, and counselors.

You can't clamp it down to one thing or put a cap on how long it will last. I might bail on this trip if I need to. Where will September find me? Looking at Dark Eyes or immersed in vines and wine? Am I ever going to get around to all the things I promised myself? Will I be fed up with interpreting broken English or will I miss Ambre's bold adventurousness.

I'm on the edge.

The End of My Second Adolescence

The volume on my life has been turned up to ten and someone broke off the knob. Every day a new song comes on that is slightly louder. It's almost deafening but I just can't stop dancing to this music. Not sure how it will feel as time passes...or if I will ever want it to stop.

In surviving as a naked ape there are only a few staples that are needed to persist and proliferate. Food, water, and shelter will be given to you by your parents if you're lucky. For me, as well as the skinny mystic at the local bar, you must fly from any situation in which you're not: 1. having fun 2. learning 3. making money

no es una problema sostener una vida simple pero para ganar la vida perfecta...es otra cosa completamente

But I should probably expound upon recent events and some background before I go into this any further.

Winter quarter left me in a state of benign complacency. Cognitive neuroscience let me down and I was tailing up my Spain application with every hope of fleeing the country to pursue a life of nonstop enjoyment and self-improvement. This course seemed like the best and only one.

Then wonderful things started happening. I transcended some internal struggles through dedicated studying for the MCAT (which I will take this summer) as well as one giant external one: Dr. Butcher. 4 recommendations are coming my way for that ultimate (at this moment) goal: medical school.

AmeriCorps was a peripheral idea which could serve as a safety net to tread water before I get into school.

Then a little chaos came into my well-constructed plan. A fiery skinny brunette, who greatly irritated me before, made me question what the importance of fleeing would be. Not by her words or by the overt actions which we did...but instead by showing me that there can be a lot of good here by my skills.

I just got out of an awards ceremony with her as she received some honors for a good GPA. The natural tendency of a competitive male is to compare and compete but I couldn't help but feel the joy of everything in this moment. According to my dear friend, the psychologist, you need 3 months with someone to see the extent of the happiness derived from their companionship. This particular person was involved with me for a while before events threw us into similar emotional states.

The tall Appalachian woman and I had a bitter separation and from this I was thinking of the external and its influence on myself. A little confidence was shaken and a little jading took place. This might never go away, but I know now that I don't have to flee a situation to be happy.

Apart from owning that Ochem professor's exam I also have had the fortune of being extended an opportunity at the Athens city schools in conjunction with OUCOM. My foot is in the door for one of the best osteopathic medical schools in the country.

Spain, in the same morning, emailed me extending me an opportunity in Madrid.

I would be working 12-16 hours a week for the government teaching children how to speak English. I would be in a dynamic and interesting city and would have the opportunity to meet and experience all the pleasures I could imagine as an exotic commodity in a culture that I love more than that of my own.

Unfortunately, I might never want to leave. Also, I wouldn't be able to skitter back to the states for medical interviews.

Last night I was met the most sexually exciting dialog I have ever encountered. I was elated, floored, enraptured in the words flowing from this person. I met them will my full intellectual rigor when appropriate but other times I backed off to hear the incredible insight and engaging life history of this person. When I was growing up these ideas were instilled in me by an older person with deep ideas in psychology, theology, and philosophy. The connection was intoxicating and I always look forward to meeting with him. Last night I met with the female equivalent.

Last night I met the female equivalent. Lacan, Frankl, Freud, and a host of modern structuralists were there having drinks with us. If that night together in lovely conversation could be extended for days I would be satiated.

This particular person finds herself in the same spot as myself: finishing the end of a period of relative stability and searching for something. She's the manifestation of my freshman self in a body twice my age but with much more experience and wisdom than I ever thought possible.

Anyways, in the next week I have to make a decision: should I stay or should I go?

The opportunity here is incredible. The alternative is equally vexing.

If I could get a gentle suggestion from some authority I would jump at either opportunity.

Anyways, in the months coming I'm going to study my ass off for the MCAT and spend a month travelling with the exotic frenchwoman I was in love with 3 years ago. I know nothing about what will or will not happen. I want things to be comfortable.

These are good problems to have. One thing is certain: Canton is out of the equation. I'm going to meet with the professor to discuss. Actually, I'm going to call him this instant to seek guidance.

College was incredible. I have 10 pages written on my experience here. Everything that could be met with this time in my life has come to full fruition. I have nearly 300 credit hours, a decent GPA, incredible stories, and 2 bachelors degrees coming my way. I'm still unsure if I will put online what I wrote.

I got a song from the brunette.

Right now, I have everything that I've ever wanted. For a moment...I wish I could live forever or extend this moment out for eternity.

Several other questions are on my mind: does she want me? do I want to be here another year?

most of all: how refreshing will it be to break back into music???

I will have time to reexplore my passion and leave behind this scientific discourse which has extracted time and energy from that expressive mode of passion which was such a huge part of my life until now.

That girl is so skinny and cute. Strange how my rational mind can be pulled by such animalistic desire. Time can only tell. The proverbial "we'll see" is sustaining me right now with this incredibly loud pronunciation of what I've always want to hear. A concrete pledge would be a mixed blessing

and if it ends I'm completely ok. It's time to live for others a little. It's time to live a little. After July 17th I will indulge.

These disjointed thoughts are the product of two weeks of elation.

I am "winning"

Now, I'm off to tear into some ochem...I'm ALMOST DONE!!!

oscillations

Listening to ratatat after a night of fundraising and a little time at the bar. My house is frigid, which makes it hard to concentrate on study.

I want to play saxophone but it's not an option right now. Soon, I'm going to make a pact with myself to stop idealizing everything. It's tough in this situation.

The perspective with which I am engaging life is not working. A little existential reading put me back in my place. The lens of the discourse seats itself above but is smudged. I can't explain it...but I feel a little closer to clarity the more I read philosophy. If nothing else this philosophy is a good exercise to sharpen me for the MCAT.

Toxicology is fucking fantastic. I'm learning poisons and how they work. I'm also learning how to stop them. It's perfect.

This quarter has brought me some surprises so far. The French girl and I have been talking lately and it's been fantastic. 3 years can go by and through technology I can finally see her face and interact. It's amazing what that does to a simple text conversation. The strangest part is that I can see myself...I spend the same time looking at both. Seeing and being seen are equally important. It's strange. Da sein: being there.

It's incredible how much my mood oscillated today. This morning I was resolute. After EH I was complacent. Lifting weights I was determined. Then I was stressed to get lunch and bored through conservation class. Then I was anxious finalizing application stuff. After that I was elated by a conversation with her. Shortly after I was tense taking a test. Outside at the hot dog sale I was distraught by the cold. After that I just felt mentally gone. I tried to stir up emotions by thinking about a recent unpleasant exchange but nothing came except a feeling of just being. Now I am tired ad think I will sleep.

lose count

Last night I watched the Fountain and reconvened with what I think is important in my life.

I have been much better off since I started scooping out those angry feelings and trying to fill myself with gratitude.

I don't care if these declarations are cyclical...when I have a good moment or day where I am productive and happy, there's nothing that I will let take that from me.

I've been sleepy and a little off keel today. There was a good neuro article about hippocampal participation in associative memories that involve volition. I could find no fault in it. my learning is better when I participate in it somehow.

This house is so cold right now. I am not discontent with this fact. There is nothing that justifies me feeling 70 degrees of warmth when it's frigid outside.

This weekend when my sister was here I got a certain feeling. There is so much crumbling back home. There's so much injustice and unhappiness brought on by tragedy and

I put the fountain soundtrack on.

Last night when I watched that movie I reconstructed the plot and what it meant. Maybe contentment and complacency isn't the intended end?

More developments in my Spain app: I'm not giving up. Tomorrow I'm soliciting my old doctor again to pressure for my medical records. I have my health insurance card and

I was talking about Janee. She's such a sweet girl. We have so many tendencies that are similar. Such shit happens to people that you can't get out or down about it.

When people press their eyeballs under extreme stress or anxiety they're doing it for a physiological reason: the oculocardiac reflex. It seems to make no sense otherwise.

At the moment I am unphased by what's going on around me which I can't help. New York Times called frac'ing of marcellus shale "the California gold rush of our century." Paint thinner is one of the less dangerous chemicals I see when looking at the known compounds in the fluid which they inject to break up the rock.

Whenever this subject comes up Nora comes to mind. Her involvement in AmeriCorps is something that I'm curious about now that I'm in a position where this seems like a viable option.

Most people will not have read to this point. I am going to stop because this is no longer beneficial.

This morning I was awakened by a tornado alarm.

So many dull lights in the back of the mind. One day they will all come surging out like a backwashed sewer or a flash fire. They'll wash you over like a birth of light, as the Spanish phrase: "dar a luz" meaning "to give birth."

The transition of dark to light is the most difficult. Reversing is so easy. One gives information and attainment, the other has its comfort and passions.

Maybe, one of these days, an old glow will return to some corners of my beleaguered mind.

I'm in a strange state of confusion at this moment. Searching my mind for thoughts and I find some tangled mess of unconcerted anger.

It's beyond the point where a stream of consciousness would be helpful catharsis. It's just a state of confusion and strangeness. There's a feeling that I just want to get on a bus and go. Go somewhere that is different. Like I should fly somewhere to put in perspective everything I have.

Drop the world is playing right now. It's so unlike me.

I'm scratching for something different. I called Nora. No answer. I tried to go out but no one is receptive. My roommate is in his room. There's a cloud aura. The house is cold.

I feel like this song is jeering at me. Against me.

Changing the music.

Dresden dolls. That's how I feel. Ok, now it's time to analyze. That's what makes me feel better when I'm forced into a corner.

The frustration came when I started talking to a friend who is doing something that society says is much greater than what I'm doing. For days, weeks, months I've been struggling against my career choice. Science? I could have been a star in English. I could have been a monster on the bassoon.

Envy is ignorance.

How much do I enjoy what I'm doing? Will this upcoming year really make me feel better?

I have shot my opportunity of working in a "world class office" for a while. My shield is my shell? My shell is my shield? Which way does it go!???!!

I always told myself that I could taper my thoughts and my actions. Like my work would not impact my happiness. Should they be separate?

I haven't volunteered in 2 years. 2 years since I did something solely for my soul. I feel like I'm becoming SELF ABSORBED!!!

It's taken me so long to realize that this is my little sickness. This disconnected analysis removes me from what makes me/made me truly happy. Canton Calvary Mission, recycling center, patient transport, or just...helping someone do something!

Tutoring involves a certain element of altruism. I don't get paid nearly enough for the work that I do and the work that I do is advancing someone else's capacity to fulfill their self interest. I need some good old fashioned damn protesting.

No self righteousness can come out of this shit. Just get out of my uncomfortable little comfort zone and be human.

I need to do this tomorrow. I have $5 in my wallet. I know that there's a dinner at the UCM that I could volunteer at.

It's like attending church, filling this application for americorps, this amygdala research paper, talking to the madly selfish scientists around me at OU, the contact with fellow environmentalists, and these continual nights of introspection made me realize what a piece of shit I have become this past year.

I feel like the cloud is breaking. Less thought...more action. I will try for UCM next week when I'm not in Paschold's class.

Hopeful schedule: 8 am-12pm homework and music. Relaxation with good food.

12-1pm contact Dr. Backus, Dr. Marks, and the career center. Call AEP to clear up the issue of this bill. 1-3 rocking the English class. 3-6pm tutoring. 6 pm dinner and chemistry lab report. 9-10pm tutoring some more.

Self absorption is depraving my strength. All I can do is meditate on my problems or current emotional state.

Looking at service opportunities right now. This Saturday I want to clean things for passion works.

warm

With the warmer weather comes a sense of rebirth and rejuvenation. Also, this harrowing sense that it shouldn't be 60 degrees in February.

I have been back on my workout routine. Doing something each day. Lifting, running, and climbing have been enjoyable passtimes these past few days.

Physical activity is perfect for getting over things and for forgetting things. I shaved my head and have been wearing contacts more often.

I'm going home this weekend to see Janee's band play, schedule my MCAT, solidify plans for formal, reconvene with good friends, and hopefully recover a check that is due for me.

Twinge

It's vd. A perfect excuse to make something mean more than it does. I'm laying this on the table though.

It has been a couple weeks before I have gotten a girl to come home with me. It's not something that I just let go either. Thunder hears the majority of the bitching. He fired back about it last night.

Whenever I find some girl that is interested I find some reason to push her the hell away. I've yelled at Sean for holding expectations that no girl can fill and being upset with their incompletion. A few of the girls that I tutor are into me. Instead of taking the situation for what it is I usually pawn them off on another fraternity guy.

So this weekend I've decided to just let down the guard and quit putting up that front of arrogance.

My time with people has made me realize the way I interact. It's shitty. I know how to fix it though. I'm going out with someone tonight, asking someone out tomorrow, going out with 2 people Wednesday, and hopefully seeing one of them a second time Thursday night. I have the house to myself this weekend. So there's no excuse.

I find myself looking at pics of my ex's bf (not Alison, the other one) and getting mad.

May 7th. I put myself in the system to take the MCAT. I'm going to stick to the regimen of 2-4 chapters a day until I have finished the book then take 2 practice tests every week. If I get a section wrong I am going to rewrite the terms for that chapter.

I have heard crushing things about this exam. Suicides, severe depression, and lesser lifechanging things stem from how big it impacts people. I can only afford one shot at it.

So many regrets! I'm still ready for this though. Every day I talk about chemistry, biology, and physics. Ochem is my weak spot.

Talked to Jess last night. She's accompanying me with the fraternity to Gatlinberg TN.

Everyone has that one person who they think about during times where people are congregating under the feelings of love. There's that subtle "what if?" mentality that itches and your mind rolls over it to scratch a while and moves on.

I should develop a set of rules for myself. No matter what I will follow.

I can't think of much...but here it is:

1. Don't missionary date

This means that I can't date someone to try and change them. This inevitably ends in regret for both parties and a mutual distaste for the other person.

2. Don't compromise your ideals

I don't have many principles that guide my life...but the one's I have are incredibly strict. If someone guides me toward a life of intellectual atrophy and depression I will not date them. I need to broaden myself when it comes to this though. I tend to shy away at people who aren't that bad because I think they're inferior. This is a dick-move and I'm done with it.

3. Allow appearance and attractiveness to influence (not dictate) your choice

At first I look at some girls and think that they're deep or have something incredible to offer. Then they turn out to be a waste of my energy and nothing enjoyable. Likewise I've had the most incredible times with girls that aren't what I would usually be attracted to.

4. Know when to walk away

I've seen too many people who just sit in a romantic interaction that used to have its appeal but since then it has crumbled to a dateless, sexless, unemotional, or just comfortable relationship. This is the equivalent of necrosis. Convenience doesn't mean that you should be together. This is the thing that I have gotten good at.

5. Always step up and contrast

When I'm in a relationship with someone I like to gravitate toward their interests. However, if you get too close to each other you tend to mesh hobbies too much and then you're the same person. In theory this sounds fantastic but it leaves you with nothing to talk about. Nothing is worse than a relationship where you have to start a fight to hear the other person's unique and personal opinion. Relationships stagnate when one or both parties don't consistently fight for the other's attention with their own personal strength. Together you can do anything.

Also, I'd hate a girl who was exactly like me.

I can't think of any other thing to remind myself besides sex. For the past 4 years I have been more of a giver of oral and erotic massage. I love it this way because you feel like you've accomplished something that requires a bit of commitment and tenacity. The past couple girls who I've done well with this have been more willing to overlook or even grow to admire my quirky and sometimes insane ideas.

It's incredible how I can relisten to ltwylp2 and not get upset about it. Take me back a month and I'd have a gut wrenching anger regarding a relationship.

It's fucking happening...the moment. Ride it! Ride it! The past will curl under you in a swirling surreal mist. Soon the the wave of the present will come crashing down and you will soon sleep with the past.

5 chapters

Shedding that class has freed up a lot of time for MCAT studying, which energizes me about the future. There's something far more rewarding about learning by yourself which I appreciate. Right now I'm going over nucleophilic substitutions. An hour ago I was reviewing genetics and biochemistry. 4 chapters in 2 days. 15 to go and I'll be good.

I'm approaching my time at home with a little more temperance than before.

challenge

I woke up at 8 this morning after a relatively apprehensive night. It was a good sleep though. My cat is making me mad by destroying things on my dresser.

I have 2 exams tomorrow. Last night was the most productive night I have had in a while. This morning I got paid. $135 in the bank. Still, I'm going to spend money like I'm broke. No more $10 mini-nights at the bar. I'm listening to a song which reminds me of Europe. Dad is coming with my medical records so I can send the final hard copies out to headquarters.I need a tetanus shot.

Every day is a challenge to do the best with what you have. Emerson once said "envy is ignorance." I might want to tattoo this on my body to remind myself of everything I know and everything I am.

chemistry

It was a relatively warm day this morning. A bit of rain accompanied me on my walk to 10 a.m. inorganic chemistry. The professor seemed in a bit of an agitated mood, but he said nothing about that exam that had me so flustered Thursday night.

Again, I feel cheated by my education at this institution. Not only were the practice problems not posted until the day before the exam, but the answers were nowhere to be found. Point groups and molecular symmetry are a pretty technical subject to someone who hasn't ever looked at them before.

So I approached the chemistry professor after class to inquire about my test. When I walked up to him I was relatively sure that the interaction was going to be a little change in my life. It was.

He graded my test. I remember getting angry as I saw it. The molecular orbital diagram which we were instructed to draw was the reverse of the example in class and it was one of the minor things he mentioned that occasionally the sigma and pi orbitals switch given certain molecules.

That wasn't the question which I got wrong.

Being completely frazzled by the reverse problem as well as the brevity of the exam I neglected the 2nd step of the 3rd page...which cost me about 10%. Because this is 1 of 3 tests and my final mark was below a C...I dropped the class. He chuckled. "I know you know this, but you didn't write it down."

"I'm sure you don't want to hear this. I was sick and anxious. I just need to know if I should leave this class or not."

"You can still pull this off." He said that statement with a calculated expression which I'm sure is characteristic of a teacher sloughing off the aspirations and hopes of someone who earnestly desires to learn something.

There it goes. My chemistry minor. I left, promptly removed the course from my listing, and felt dejected the rest of the day.

I have made a host of mistakes in my undergraduate years. This is just one that I have no time to rectify. A few marks on a few lines to symbolize that I knew some properties about some particles...are missing. Without those marks I don't have a mark on another piece of paper for the scrutinizers to realize that I know something.

Doesn't it all seem so trivial? Today was my miniature protest against the establishment. Chemists are dangerous. This fact is plain. My time here at Ohio University hasn't taught me much. I have learned how to be burned by bureaucracy and jump through flaming hoops.

I still have that book. I intend to learn inorganic thermodynamics, metallic bonding properties, and inorganic reactions. I do not intend to study them under the supervision and judgment of someone like this.

Last night I proved something to myself: independence. This tenacity that I have can manifest itself in the acquisition of more knowledge on my own. I have one dear friend in the chemistry department, several in biology, and a close association and friendship with a physicist. Every question that I have can be answered by my friends.

It leaves a bitter taste in your mind when someone tells you you're not good enough when you know you are.

breaking away

I'm not sure anyone really appreciates how tough a real research paper is. Dissecting, critiquing, and appreciating someone's work is a lot more challenging than some assert. Some of my colleagues are under the impression that a "research project" is a terse examination of things that are largely on Wikipedia.

For the past 6 free hours I've had I have been examining primary literature and trying to criticize it from a scientific perspective. Gruff! That's the only sound I've been able to make during this little ideal. The article is called "Role of Prefrontal Cortex in Conscious Visual Perception" and it is very thick. Those people at Harvard sure know how to spin shit.

One of the greatest blows to the field of science is the inability of the community to communicate. They release these large papers and spend their entire lives on a subset of neurons in the brain but then their work goes unappreciated because they can't articulate what they did in a way that society will grasp.

I am going to tell this straight up: I don't like having to read this article for 6 hours to understand it. I really wish there was an accessory comments section or at least something to break up the thick discourse and abstract study which was performed.

The weirdest thing about it is that I'm a part of it: http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed?term=Preston%20Houston

Next year I will fly from the jib jab of science into a wonderful world of dialog with a greater purpose. Then, I will return to science...possibly. Today I need to get the rest of my application information done done done. This is not something that I should have let go this long.

Yesterday was the superbowl and I called my family. I miss them dearly. If worst comes to worst I will be living at home all next year trying to work a job and save up money for medical school.

This cognitive neuroscience class has proved to be the disillusionment that I needed. Not only did I leave Dr. Lee's lab because the quibbling, high-stress, peculiar, and backward way of life there....but the paradigm of modern neuroscience is frustrating as hell. We were doing exploratory research on a process that I didn't understand. Daily I was criticized for not doing what I was supposed to but I had no idea of what I was supposed to do.

This class taught me, not the underlying mechanisms of my consciousness, but how much I hate research. Biochem/microbiology was straightforward. This class reaffirms that I have no place in science but the clinical. None of this matters but what allows us to better connect with people and advance our understanding of the physical world.

I feel no hatred for the neuroscience community. I definitely feel no love either. Instead, I find myself breaking away with an arm's length respect with regard to their incessant need for unnecessary complexities and arrogant creation of ineffectual work.

the rage

I can't speak as an objective observer. I'm still tipsy from last night

Fuck this. I fucking hate this so much. From the deepest point of disdain in a person's existence I just fucking want this to go the hell away. My hatred for this damn shit is much deeper than for the worst deed I have ever known.

Maybe if I go elsewhere this shit will fucking go away. Maybe there's a place where this shit doesn't happen or people aren't so terrible. Perhaps it's not natural and people shouldn't act like this but I've lived in this horrible little corner of the world where people are just fucking terrible all the time.

Straight up breakdown:

from the depths of my heart I hate "attractive" people and the attitude they have. Entitlement, snobbery, belligerence, arrogant remarks, and other shit just pours out of them. They're fucking brats. Just because you have symmetry, perfect breasts or a square jaw, height, or other shit that NO ONE CAN HELP that doesn't mean you have to be an absolute prick.

The thing that enrages me the most is that people buy into this shit. That's all they buy into. It's god damn annoying.

Alright, a small history of my night involves all this dialogue. I went out with my friend to a party with a lot of great people. we drank some mix and I got a little tipsy.

Breakdown on my friend: he's about 6 foot 3 inches in height. Dwarfs my by comparison. I'm 5 foot 4 inches tall. He knows random facts about everything but isn't a specialist by any means.

I had an extended conversation with this girl, not "attractive" but really a great person and I liked the way she looked and talked, and everything was going well. Then I got really drunk and next thing I know she's not talking to me anymore, but my friend. Largely, I am excluded from the conversation.

One of a billion incidents in my life where preferential treatment is given to someone based on their looks.

Alright...get it through your fucking head: biologically, scientificaly, and every other factual way of interpreting this has confirmed that people will listen to someone who is attractive over someone who isn't.

This sucks SO BAD for the people who have everything in the world to offer someone but aren't gorgeous.

This is going to sound a bit arrogant right now but I don't give a fuck. I am the peak of everything I could be given my situation. I lift a decent amount, so I have a broad chest and thick arms relative to the rest of my body. It's not too much though. I am a fucking scientist. Appreciate for a second what that means. we are the people that helped make this machine that you use to interact with other people.

There's a poster on the wall in a professor's office that is about animal testing. The picture indicates a group of people protesting animal testing. The caption says "thanks to scientific tests these people will be protesting for an average of 8 years longer." I can perform mathematic calculations and integrate knowledge from 4 fields to solve problems. I have worked in a biomedical research lab trying to explore the properties of lifesaving antibiotics in the strangest corner of the world: honeybee guts. Given enough time, I can explain roughly every cell in your body and an outline of what they do, as well as some properties of those cells that cause your health to fail. Most of the time I can tell you how to prevent this.

I am a farmer. I fear no death. Talk to me and you will get the utmost clarity concerning the brevity of life and the absence (but in that, the jubilee of the temporal) of religion. I kill things and cook them with my own hand. This is normal. I think that people eating an animal that they never knew is demented.

As far as sex goes, I am good. It has been a learning process but, as a scientist, I try things out and learn new ways of achieving mutual satisfaction. I fucking love going down on girls. Everything about it is incredible. The little noises, pleasant expressions, heavy breathing, and incredible happiness that comes out of a woman as you're licking her clitoris are absolutely amazing. As you know someone you gradually change how you do it...less to the point and more about the building up to it. Then afterwards you get a verdict: yes or no. Yes means you're going to have sex. The no is just as well. There will always be another time. I do not know a man who is worth anything who doesn't treat a girl the way she deserves.

Yet, women flock to those types of men. Until they're older. As women get older they get better in most capacities. I'd say menopause is the cutoff. But, if they keep mentally and physically alert, they stay their incredible selves and are ever increasingly pleasant to be around. Height...height and height. It throbs in my god damn little head.

And then there are the wonderful exceptions. These are what I have to live by. There are girls that, for the most part, overlook their biological intuition and open themselves up to men of a different variety.

Look in my kitchen and you'll find a damn good cook at work who uses sparingly any meat but makes the greatest pasta salad s0metimes with veggies that he grows with his own hands. You'll see books from C.S. lewis resting on top of Nietzsche. These are on a stack of molecuar neuroscience, wastewater management and treatment, biology, inorganic chemistry, biochemistry, and a book of music for the alto saxophone. I am a poet, musician, writer, worker, and a critic (but not a cynic). You would think that some of this shit would result in a god damn partner every once in a while. It has been like 2 years since I've had a girlfriend. Not to say that I haven't had someone in between. But...it seems unfair that I put this much work into being the most that I possibly can be and then people just leisurely work their way through everything and find more meaningful connections.

The rant lost its momentum. Basically, what I'm tying to say is that I am really aggravated by people. a tall man or a woman with large breasts commands more attention at or between the sexes. I am conscious of this and try to equalize it.

I just hate how shitty people are. It's so apparent too. You see when a person walks into a room what they are thinking.