Sex and Literature

So run with me on this one real quick. If writing was like sex:

- The Romantic period would be the ideal sex
- The Victorian period would be sweet, conventional sex
- The Modern period would be kinky sex
- The Post Modern period would be like BDSM
- The Naturalist period would be like wild, animal sex
- Great literature would be like fond and talented lovers that you can return to frequently if you desire
- Writing in elementary school, junior high, and high school would be like your first attempts at early masturbation
- Your favorite book you've read a dozen times is like your first picture of a really sexy (wo)man naked
- Essays are like buttsex, not necessarily as pleasant for the receiver as for the giver unless that's what the receiver wants
- Memoirs and (auto)biographies are like memories of great lovers
- Scientific and mathematical writing would be like sex ed in a textbook

And finally, the one I've learned the most about recently,

- Marketing is like cheap literary prostitution.

The End.

Progress

I think I'm doing well. Better. Perhaps.

But who is a legitimate judge of his progress? Only a fool, I'm sure.

Well, heart aside, at least my actions are reflecting.

Journal II - The Weight

I feel weight on me today. Pressure on my shoulders, pressing down, and my back still hurts from the concert, so it's hard to stand up straight. I feel leftovers from difficult discussions and none of the relief that comes from "working things out;" only the anticipation that everything is too much a load for me to bear.

I am afraid to see what I am capable of withstanding. I'm tired of deciding for myself what my limits are.

Psychology seems to me to be the futile, desperate effort to map and pattern the behavior of humanity to decide what is good and bad for the emotional and mental well-being of a person. However, I feel like it always comes down to the same thing. I have to decide. Will I be happy like this? Will I feel like this tomorrow?

As I explore the purpose of this journal, I feel like maybe deciding what is good for me literally in writing would be helpful. Now, if only I knew what those things were.

Journal I

This is my first try.

I am sorry.

I need to apologize to a lot of people, and for a lot of things. I am sorry for being so damn arrogant. I don't know ANYTHING. But, the more I learn, the more I forget. No matter what I learn, I still know nothing. I can't even keep myself straight. How can I expect to know you?

I am sorry for trying to fix you. You are perfect. Every one of you is perfect. And I am a fool, the biggest, dumbest fool for thinking that I could possibly know better. I am ashamed, ashamed to my very core for thinking that I knew better. God, I am so ashamed. I know this about myself, but I guess it's just a testament to my own weakness that I have done nothing about it. I am so, so sorry.

This is my fault, in every way. To each of you, I have been unfair, and had terrible expectations. There is no measure to my shame. I am so sorry. I hope that someday, you all can forgive me.

Lovely Bloodflow

I can't help but wonder what the actual biological response of a heartwrench is. Is it perhaps a sudden flow of blood? That's what I'm inclined towards. A small length of fishing wire that fastens itself to a bit of your soul, and on nights like these, when difficult conversations are had with ones that you love, it tugs, enough to hurt, but not to break. I feel at the mercy of such a small thing: weak, childish, and incapable. I must look like a damned fool, floundering across the street, unkindly guided by an invisible thread wrapped viciously around the most intimate depths of me.

Cynicism is like the sun. It might be light, but too much time spent in it, and everything gets tough and burned. All the moisture is gone, too. A dose is necessary for things to grow and thrive, but too much and everything dies. There wasn't much left that makes me cry anymore...but...

Hm. I was beginning to wonder if I'd forgotten how to cry. Doctor, my eyes.

I wish that I were more aware. I wish that I could think without talking, without verbalizing.

Honestly, I think it just comes down to wishing I were less broken. I'd love a god who could do something with that.

By the way, everyone, don't fall into the same trap that I fell into. There are things in this world that cannot be answered or fixed. Logic cannot fix them, and therapy cannot fix them. People are broken, and humanity is flawed.

I think at the root of my soul I am aware that I am entirely unaware. As such an introspective, verbal, communicative person, it's amazing what I cannot see, cannot say, and will not communicate. I am a proud joke, an idiot who fancies himself academic, the very fool that returns again and again to his vomit. I keep thinking if I can learn about myself, realize my behavioral patterns, I can change them. I just have so much trouble knowing. The greeks had at least something right. Before attempting to know anything, to know anyone...know thyself.





In response to what I have felt tonight, I feel it necessary to begin a journal of some sort. I don't think I can stick with something regimented very well, but there has to be something I can do. I am tired of my misunderstanding of myself resulting in foolish, foolish decisions. This isn't just about me. Things are hurting. There is more than one fishing line in a soul. There is a web of gentle pain, of kindness that aches, and of lovely bloodflows everywhere. Its the least I can do to try to be responsible with whose fishing line I am allowed to hold.

Ashton

I love you, but there's only so much I can put up with, jen. You keep being such a fucking dumbass, you're gonna drive away the only people who don't abuse you. "Having a good time" is not a good reason for substance abuse, the "good times" with the bitch tim are NOT enough to outweigh the shit times, and, unfortunately, the only person who has any ability to change your situation is you. So I need you to stop waiting for situations to change, and change them yourself. You have the power to walk away from tim, and be done with that shitface, and work towards being happy again. So do it. I'm tired of listening to you bitch and then do nothing.

Ramble

I really wish I didn't idolize the Byronic hero. I'm tired of holding myself to the standard of the typical "lone ranger," who gains his respect through the violence he inflicts upon the explicit antagonist and himself, denying all his needs for the "safety" of others (e.g. it's too danger to love me, I'll just walk into the sunset).

I don't function on this level. I'm not a lone person, and I get miserable when I am. But, unfortunately, whether it be Lord Byron or Clint Eastwood to blame, the tough guy, independent, lone anti-hero is my ultimate model. It kind of sucks ass when nothing you ever do can come close to your ideal.

This is just one notch in the belt of self dissatisfaction. Most of my time is spent looking at myself and wondering who I would be if I was alone. Did you know that every single girl I've dated has had a serious impact on my behavior, even past the point of when we broke up? For example, little catchphrases: I find myself speaking like (and to a much larger extreme, typing like) the girls I date. When I dated chelsea, I picked up little things like "^_^" and "lick," etc etc. And so these things continue to pile up, and I become the compilation of the people I know. It's pretty fuckin' shitty. I love(d) each of these people in unique and special ways, but I wish my identity outside of them was more concrete.

• I wish I were cleaner
• I wish I had a better work ethic
• I wish I didn't need to here that I am cared about constantly
• I wish I wouldn't get upset when esther doesn't have anything to say or doesn't talk to me for an extended period of time
• I wish I knew the line between things I should try to identify and address in myself, and things that I should stick by as unchangeable parts of my personality.
  
• I wish I didn't feel ignored by esther even when she's not ignoring me
• I wish I wasn't so tired all of the time
• I wish I had higher self esteem
• I wish I weighed less, didn't have skin issues, didn't have dandruff, and felt attractive to other people
• I wish I knew how to fix and/or address these things
• I wish I wasn't sad and upset tonight

Ugh (there's a phrase I picked up from esther)...what is going on with me? I feel like its so unfair to need validation from esther, but I feel so invalid that I don't know where else to get it from.

I just need to go to bed. I feel terrible. What the heck! By three months of dating, my emotions are supposed to even out and be reasonable and predictable. Instead, we're at four months of dating today and I can't sort out my own fucking worth.

~wes~

Contentment

I have a job. I work 40 hours a week, doing relatively important things, and so far, I'm pretty good at it. I enjoy it, and I hope for more responsibility. I have bills to pay, which is overwhelming, but my paychecks are big, and I am being relatively proactive. I see esther regularly, at least once a week and every saturday, and it sucks that I have to drive a lot (it REALLY sucks), but it's totally worth it. I go to church with her to meet and try to fit in with the korean friends and family she has, and it's been so much less awkward the more I'm around, I can't believe it. Her little sister seems to really like me (cause I play with her and bought her chalk), and her friend Rebecca gave me the seal of approval. I got to keep her till 11 pm instead of 10 when we went to the beach, and I made soap with her. My days of the week are spent getting up at 6:30 am, going to work, working all day, and then either driving to Hacienda or coming straight home. I'm in bed by 10, asleep usually by 11 or 11:15, and it's pretty good.

But.

But.

I am a roller coaster.

Something in me is fucking CRAZY. My days are structured and easy to anticipate, and my body is becoming regulated. I am even eating healthier. But every damn, fucking day, I'll go from perfectly fine to an emotional wreck to perfectly fine again dozens of time throughout the day. It's not like people do anything to upset me, but little things just send me over the edge really easily. A lot of it is with esther stuff, and I dunno why; it's like my imagination gets the best of me and for some reason, ridiculous scenarios enter my mind. I guess I'm afraid of repeating past relationships this time, and reexperiencing the same type of heartbreak misery. It's not even anything she does. It's more like my brain makes up reasons to be upset. And then a single kind word and shizam, I'm totally fine, even ecstatic. I'm concerned, no, I know that this means that my happiness is partially dependent on her, and that's not fair for either of us. It's just a bitch to change.

It's not just esther stuff though. When Greg came into the office last week and made some comment about "no matter how you look at it, illegal means you should either be in prison or deported," I got SO friggin mad, and then his comment later about how "anal is really unhealthy and bad for you, and only perverts do it anyways" nearly sent me over the edge. Whenever someone mentioned APU, I'm just ticked at the place in general, and the same with the church and religion. It just doesn't take much to make me go crazy recently.

What am I mad at? I can't figure that out - whatever it is, it's feeding my distaste of certain types of people. What am I insecure about? Whatever it is, it's feeding my fear of independence in my relationship with esther. Things just don't keep to themselves; they bleed into every aspect of my behavior and feelings. Nothing is clear cut, and I don't know how to address it.

I hope writing will help, but I don't know that it will. In the morning, I'll feel better, but tomorrow, I'll probably have a thousand mood swings. Maybe I need medication? Maybe I need to just suck it up? Bleh. I wish people would ask me about it. Honestly, I wish people would ask me if I am alright. It would make me feel cared about. Yeah, I'm ok. I'll be fine tomorrow, or fine later. But lots of times, no, I'm not fine now, and I don't know how to go about fixing it. Just acknowledging it makes a difference though.

It's just ridiculous, man. I feel pretty great right now. Just hungry. When I started writing this blog, I felt terrible. It happens so friggin much, it's crazy. Don't worry, I'm sure I'll feel shitty again in a second. All it takes is thinking about school bills, or not having money, or those saturdays with esther when I try and get shot down (that's the WORST), and there I am, back to the pits.

I'm so discontent.

Every time I'm working I wish I were relaxing.

When I'm relaxed, I wish I had something to do.

When I'm doing something, I wish I was with esther.

When I'm with esther, I wish I had things to say.

It's a terrible circle. Where's my fulfillment? Didn't our parents tell us to get a job and make money to be happy? Did the media tell us to fall in love, that it would make us happy? I still feel missing.

I'm so tired of waiting around for other things to come and give me fulfillment. I want to pursue something, and make myself feel happier. Esther wont make me happy forever. Neither will money or a good job. They can contribute, but they can't MAKE me happy, especially if I wait around for them to come to me.

Ok done now. Maybe I'll tally mood swings tomorrow. XD

~wes~

Postal Service

"This place is a prison; these people aren't your friends"

This is the song that keeps running through my head tonight. I feel an overwhelming surge of emotion, and don't know what to do with it all, and amidst the cacophony of moods, I find myself back at this same song.

The thing is, this place isn't a prison. At least, this place physically isn't. I don't feel bound by this place, whether this place is my school, my home, my age, or my city. I don't even feel bound by my country. The prison that I feel is much more metaphorical and self-centered; I feel imprisoned by my own emotions. I can go wherever I please, and do just about whatever I want to do, but I carry my emotions, my stress and sadness, intense overwhelming joy and unprocessed anger with me no matter where I go or what I do. If anything, this "place" is my body, and my body is a prison for these feelings. I cannot leave them, and they are trapped with me. I cannot come to terms with them either; I just don't understand them.

The other thing is, these people ARE my friends. But they aren't friends like friends usually mean, or like many expect them to be. When I feel trapped by my own imprisoned emotional intensity, my friends don't fix anything. I don't feel fulfilled by my friends, nor do I feel understood. So these people are my friends, but they don't fix anything. They simply are. I don't really like this feeling, but in a sense, it's good; it comes back to the puzzle piece epiphany I had a while back.

People are incomplete. No surprise there. Every person feels incomplete. But people are SUPPOSED to be incomplete. It's so weird being in a relationship where I'm not trying to shape the other person to fit my missing holes (or trying to be in such a relationships - it's a new, difficult process for me).

So yeah. Here's the basic thing: I feel a lot right now. I don't know what it is, or where it comes from, but on nights like tonight, when I think of certain things, I feel like I'm going to explode. I don't know what would happen if I did, but I don't think I will. It's just a lot.

~wes~

Friends

So I try to be of the mindset that says, I am your friend, not your father, and therefore it is my responsibility to be your friend, and not parent. So I had it when my friends do stuff that makes me want to parent and shit.

I mean, come on. These decisions are terrible. I'm not talking about "choosing to pursue studio art instead of business" terrible. I'm talking "date a person who has been divorced and has children" terrible. As much as I am fine with the idea of second chances for people who have made mistakes, there are limits to what I think is a good idea. And dating people who are clearly not past the emotional maturity of an 11 year old is past those damn limits.

I want to be your friend, guys. I want to be there for you as much as I can. I just CANNOT STAND these people. I cannot stand your decisions. I will be there for you when you need it, but I don't want to hear you whine, and then go back to these vomit piles. It's too painful for me, as your friend.

The end.

Saturday

I had no idea how much today would suck.

Basically, my to-do list for the day is:

• Drewry's Linguistics Term Paper
  
• Study for Brit Lit
• Finish Brit Lit Extra Credit
• Final Presentation for Ivanov
• Begin Studying for Drewry Midterm
• Clean the mod

So that's what I've got to do. Small problem: for some reason, in the past two months, I have fallen very comfortably into a routine that, when broken, causes unexpected amounts of stress and discomfort. My saturday, for two months, has been almost exclusively spent with Esther, hanging around and doing nothing. In addition, I'm also very comfortable with the routine of being able to talk with her online at almost any time when I'm on the computer, and today, she is traveling to Zzyzx (which is a real town), which means no communication either.

The combination of mental discomfort via finals and final papers long procrastinated, and emotional discomfort via an absent Esther puts me in quite an unsatisfied mood.

Essentially, what am I saying? Essentially, I am bitching. I'm complaining that I don't get to talk to Esther today, but I'm trying to do it in a rational and mature manner. Of course, there is often nothing rational about emotions, and so I can hardly hope to rationalize something that lacks traditional logic. I don't want to rationalize such emotions, as their validity is linked directly with their existence. However, approaching such feelings in a hopefully level enough emotional state can allow me to understand where they derive from and perhaps lead to understanding of why they are there. Right? I hope so.

God, this would be so much easier if I had FUN stuff to do today, but no, I'm sitting at my computer writing about American Evangelical Dialectal contradictions with the American Evangelical statement of purpose.

Can I just learn to value these feelings as they are? An ache that means I love someone, and an ache that means I want them to come back; it might not always be this way. I'm glad I'm capable of feeling these feelings. The hope that they'll be back soon (soon enough, in fact, that it makes my bitching stupid), and anticipation of meeting up once again.

Bleh. Bottom line? Miss you, es.

~wes~

Beach

It seems kind of silly, but....

If you sit in the Rose Garden at APU, where the enclave is surrounded by offices with an old style architecture, and view of the rest of the school is cut off, then you can look up above the buildings, see the palm trees and clear skies, and listen to the birds and the sound of the street, which sounds like an ocean, and imagine you are sitting at the beach. It's a very pleasant feeling, especially considering I worked my ass off to get here on time, and now my prof is late. I hope the rest of the day is like this imaginary beach, not my late professor.

~wes~

Drawing

Breathe in,

Breathe out.

That simple.

Breathe in,

Breathe out

Shut your eyes

Breathe in

Breathe out

Tighten your fists

Breathe in

Breathe out

Clench

Breathe in

Breathe out

Fume

Breathe in

Breathe out

Mourn

Breathe in

Breathe out

Empty your mind

Breathe in

Breathe out

Grieve

Breathe in

Breathe out

Blame

Breathe in

Breathe out

Open your eyes

Breathe in

Breathe out

Shut your eyes

Breathe in

Open your eyes

Breathe out

Shut your eyes

Breathe in

Breathe out

Breathe in

Wait

Wait

Wait

Wait

Open your eyes

Breathe out.

Stare.

There we go.

...

*sigh*

Problem Solved

Why is it, when the problem is solved, I am still upset? Does somebody want to explain this to me?

I get so sick and tired of the church atmosphere, maybe being at APU isn't the best idea for me.

I am so ashamed to have thought how this school thinks, and to have believed what this school believes. How can I even venture to have an opinion now, to fight for what I believe, when there's the chance I might look back and realize myself an even bigger fool?

Cynicism is like this: In Fight Club, there's a clever trick the producers put in that the viewer doesn't catch the first time. Before Tyler Durden is revealed as a character, let alone the narrator's alternate persona, there will be single frame flashes of Tyler Durden in unrelated contexts. At first view, almost no viewer catches this, but once it's pointed out, you cannot un-see the Tyler flash. You might wish to unsee it, and you might hate that you see it (for whatever reason; this is an illustration), but it wont go away. In fact, you might even find yourself looking forward to that flash.

Now replace Fight Club with church, and replace Tyler Durden flashes with opportunities to be angry and cynical.

I cannot unsee what the church did and does. I cannot unsee what religion did and does and will do in the name of god. And I cannot differentiate between what I see as truth and what I see as anger about past truths.

Ok so I'm a little disjointed tonight. But I just feel like ranting and yelling and screaming at someone, but I can't find anyone to blame.

I'm so sick of going to church and leaving pissed off. Isn't there a single damn service I can go to where the things the speaker says don't frustrate me to the point of nausea? I just want to fight with someone, to vent my anger by laying the blame on a single person or institution. I crave righteous anger towards an obvious and deserving antagonist, but alas; there never was one.

I'm so sick of having so much more emotion than there is output. I'm sick of volatile nights founded in directionless bitterness and reasonless sadness, followed by periods of elation based simply on the attention I receive.

Fuck all of this, I'm just sleepy. Goodnight, everything.

~wes~

Father

"Son, please keep a steady wing, and know you're the only one who means anything to me." Thrice, "Daedalus"

How could god be anything less than that? I hear a lot of people screaming "unconditional love," but not a lot of people believing it. So don't say it unless you mean it. Unconditional means without condition. The only requirement is to accept it. So stop giving me rules and conditions, you Pharisees.

What is Christian

Apparently this word has a terribly vague meaning to it.

When asked the question, most would answer "To be a Christian is to believe god sent jesus, he paid it all, and you are forgiven if you believe and accept it."

I don't think I really have a problem with this.

However, what most mean by this, I think, is that this acceptance is followed by the immediate acceptance of all church rules, regulations, and TRADITIONS that ordinarily accompany a standard, western evangelical "Christian." That means that if one does not accept these rules and regulations, the aforementioned christianity is nullified.

Specifically, the one that gets on my nerves is the gays, but it's not limited to that. It includes the premarital sex-ers, the avid alcohol enthusiasts, the metalheads, the pot smokers, the cussers, the porn viewers, whatever. Is drinking alcohol before being 21 a sin worthy of the loss of "christian" title?

Rather, I think there is an addiction that far surpasses the pornography market. It's when you leave a bunch of people that have been told that their way is better in a room together for two hours a week and let them talk themselves into a blind frenzy. It's an addiction to being better, holier, and superior, and it's called a church.

In a recent conversation with a friend, the topic of the "theme of the new testament" came up. Now, I had always been taught, or maybe I drew this conclusion myself unconsciously, that the theme of the new testament was jesus. Jesus shows up, sent by Big Daddy himself, and forgives everything ever done, right? Through the ultimate sacrifice, made in love. That seems like a pretty awesome moral to me, whether or not the historical specifics are accurate.

However, apparently, to many, love and forgiveness being the central theme of the NT itself isn't enough; in fact, the legalism traditionally valued in Judaism prior to the incarnation re-manifests itself in christian form, screaming that love and forgiveness is only legitimate if proven by religious assimilation, masked as repentance.

Where is the love that jesus preached and lived? The UNCONDITIONAL love (emphasis on unconditional; that means you love your senior pastor the same way you love the transvestite prostitute), which expects no change, and requires nothing in return.

Everything in many churches is so conditional. I love you IF. Love the sinner, hate the sin? That's the very definition of conditional love, so corrupt at its core that its no longer love for anything but one's ego. When you love someone unconditionally, there is no sin. There is nothing but love for that person, good and bad, and THERE is the face of the god you claim to represent.

Somebody asked me if I was a christian tonight. There was a lot of pressure on the statement; I was being analyzed for acceptance by another as esther's boyfriend. I found myself more speechless than I had been all night, stumbling over the words, beginning by answering "yes" and then saying "well, sort of," amidst a flurry of syllabic nonsense phrases. What am I, then?

If I ask you, mom, you will tell me that I am a christian further along in my spiritual journey than many will get their entire lives.

If I ask you, dad, you'll probably tell me that you don't know, because that's something you've become pretty good at saying, and I admire that.

If I ask you, stephen, you'll say no.

If I ask you, esther, you'll say people who think otherwise AREN'T christians.

If I ask you, apu, you will avoid the question, because you think I am not, but you still want my money and your reputation.

If I ask you, jeff taylor, dan jepson, or similar characters, you will give me the most round-about "no" I've ever heard.

If I ask you, biblical scholar, you will give me a convincing argument either way, which effective convinces me of nothing except that you can convince me of nothing.

If I ask you, lizzy, you will either whoop a resounding yes, or you will question what you believe yourself.

If I ask you, scott okamoto, you will give me a little hope for apu by saying something along the lines of "if you aren't, then I'm not either"

If I ask you, Western Evangelical Christian Church, the majority of you will say no, I am not a christian.

You know what? That's ok with me. Here is what I believe:

There is a god. He made stuff happen; I believe specifically it was through divine orchestration, and therefore have no problems with evolution. People need to chill out on that topic.

I believe the bible is a foundation, not a piece of historical fact. There are plenty of things in there that I don't buy, and contrary to what many might say, I don't think this is the salad bar interpretation of the bible. I don't pick and choose by daily taste. I pick and choose by what makes sense. Rather than abandon my mind, and accept things blindly, I'd much rather doubt the integrity of a section of scripture.

I believe the whole jesus shindig. He came, he died, he undied like a zombie, and in the process forgave the sins of many. There's no proof for this; I base this entirely off of gut instinct. I know that humanity is imperfect, and maybe this is just my desperate attempt to reconcile that. Whatever.

I believe in no holy spirit. The holy spirit always seemed to me like an afterthought; an excuse. The old testament had direct connection and massive miracles from god, the middle area and gospels had jesus in the flesh and his apostles, and we get the invisible spirit.

I don't believe god talks, or interacts, or shows signs, or intervenes. In my experience prayer is entirely one-sided; perhaps I was given the wrong manual on it, but that's not important. I don't pray because nobody hears except me. I think that the "natural law" that governs our reality is one that god at creation put in place, and he chooses to abide by it. Basically, I think things just happen as they happen.

This seems trivial but...I don't believe in worship music. I see the value and power in words, and I don't want to let anything exit my mouth that I feel is misrepresentative of me. I feel like it is a lie to sing in church words that I despise.

I don't believe god is uncaring. I believe that as an omnipotent creator, (s)he knows how things will turn out. God has willed godself out of the equation, and is letting the pieces fall as they may. It reminds me of parents watching their child move out. Perhaps things will be good, perhaps they will be bad, but nonetheless, the parents remain behind as observers.

I think I have a weird view of god. I'm pretty much christian minus the bible and prayer. Of course, that makes me not christian, I guess.

If I had to choose, I'd go with Messianic Deist.

~wes~

Ulysses

From Alfred, Lord Tennyson's Ulysses:

"Though much is taken, much abides; and though

We are not now that strength which in old days

Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are -

One equal temper of heroic hearths,

Make weak by time and fate, but strong in will

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."

Paradox of Sin?

So here's the irony...

The chapel people instructed us to take communion today, but Jamie said that we should ask for forgiveness for our sins beforehand.

My sin (or at least the most emphatic one that shows up when I'm in any sort of church) is that I am ridiculously bitter towards the church.

The process of forgiveness as the church deems it makes me bitter.

So by becoming of the right mindset to take communion, I become of the wrong mindset again.

Even if this were to not be an issue, the actual group activity of taking communion makes me bitter.

So by the time I grab a loaf of bread, I am once again unclean and unworthy of communion.

The verdict? I think I'd just rather live in my sin. It's a lot less confusing.

I am Awake

I have thought about a variety of things since I work up today, which was at 9:30 am (and it is barely 10:51!). Some of them are as follows.

It would be hilarious, Lizzie, if the APU printers only printed the bible.

A great way to refer to twins without being socially offensive is "homo-uteral."

" 'No hard feelings, man,' Valentine calls out. 'You won the war, remember?'

The motorcycle's engine is so quiet, we can still hear Ganymar's answering whipser. 'Did we?' he asks. 'I don't remember anything that was won. Only what was lost...'

'Nobody can win a war. You can only hope to lose less than your enemy. And sometimes you lose the same thing. That's all' "

I am going to take into to sculpture because casting bronze could possibly be the coolest class I've ever seen.

I don't like when the printers break, and it is really difficult to focus for my Linguistics test at 1:05 when esther is coming to see me after class. REALLY difficult.

I am hungry...again....like always.....I am always hungry.....all the time..........and I just get bigger and bigger.......

Coldplay

"Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to

Fix you"

Lyrics to Coldplay's "Fix You"

Listening to Quincy argue with his girlfriend makes me ask: how much of a relationship is spent fixing?

I am not your father, so I do not want to father you. I am not your therapist, so I do not want to counsel you. I am not your minister, your instructor, or your mentor; I am not your wealth of knowledge, your reference, your expert, your lifeline or your savior. I am not your god, so I will not show you. I am your lover, and I will love you.

I want to be loved as I am, as an object of imperfection. Not tolerated - loved. This is important. I don't want my quirks to be ok. I want them to be necessary. I want my flaws to be desirable. And I want your flaws, your quirks, to be loved, not tolerated.

How can anyone, myself included, expect happiness if a relationship is based on the expectation of another to change? I don't want to fall in love with an ideal, I want to fall in love with YOU. I don't want to sit on the phone and tell you things that you need to do. I don't to perform for you. I don't want to keep a delusion of you and fall in love with that.

The danger with this is that it makes it awfully difficult to give everything to a person. If I am unwilling to settle on loving an ideal, that means I need to be willing to cut off feelings that develop for what appears to be a person, but is an ideal. It's easy to fall in love, at least for me. It's even easier to fall in love with someone when I don't see them, but I see what they and I want to see. Gah, it's SO easy. Then I'm faced with the sudden downfall, the realization of who they really are, not because they were hiding it, but because I didn't want to ruin my ideal. Now I've fallen in love, committed, and I get to rediscover whether it's the person or the idea that I love.

How do you love a person, not an idea? I have all these misconceptions that cloud my view. I have expectations, desires, and holes that I want you to fill, but in the process of seeking the puzzle piece, I often forget the shape. How do I know you? Can I possibly expect to know you? You are always...

I watch my hands as you tell me who you are. I feel my head nod in approval when you say something I love, and I feel my hands twitch when you say something I don't. I feel the impulse to fix creep up in my throat, to disagree, to tell you what you want, to tell you who you are, and who you should be. I feel it and I treasure it because I can feel it, it's right there, can you see it? I want to do it, I want to make you someone else, I want to make you into what I want, but that's not what you are, you are something else entirely and it's beautiful and it's perfect and it's exactly how it should be, not any other way. I restrain myself, and bite back the nausea that drips like a mouthful of ice water down my esophagus when I get afraid that you might be wrong for me, and I adore you more.

I feel dangerous and invasive as I learn who you are at your most personal level and terrified of who it is.

It is terrifying, knowing somebody. To see them not as a piece that can fit your life, but as an entirely different puzzle. I am trying to learn how to stop looking for the piece that fits my hole, and to start admiring the beauty of the other, separate, incomplete puzzle in front of me. I am trying to learn how to view other people in relation to themselves, not to myself.

It is terrifying, knowing somebody. To release all illusion of control over another's behavior is terrifying. To come to the realization of my powerlessness to change her into what my trivial mind deems as better is terrifying. To realize what my trivial mind deems as better is terrifying. To realize that my impulse is to change her is terrifying. To realize I am terrified is exhilarating.

I don't know what it is about it, but seeing someone's soul scares me shitless. I think it scares most people. I see the face of a god I've never known, the face of perfection, not in flawlessness, but in nature. Your downfalls, the things that are so wrong for me, are perfect. Perfect in the sense that they require no change.

So fuck off, Coldplay. I shall fix nobody; I only shall cower in the corner, feeling pressure of my heart in my stomach as I glimpse into the infinite.

~wes~

Humility

Make no mistake, the moment you begin to understand, something, someone, will somehow remind you that you know nothing. Such is the curse of Humility, not of Pride. For Pride is the state of thinking we know, and Humility is the state of knowing that the only thing worth knowing is that nothing is knowable.

Stomach

There's a man inside my stomach, and he kicks me when I'm confronted with something I don't understand. Make it stop, I hate it, it hurts.

Sunny Sunday

I am feeling quite good today! I intend for today to be, if not a productive, than an enjoyable and relaxing day. I get paid tomorrow, so I can put money away for camping over Spring Break and for the Swallow the Sun show in April. I've got a bitchin' new ring with an awesome lyric inscribed on the inside, an awesome Thrice t-shirt on from the show (which just reminds me that I wish I could have gotten the Dear Hunter shirt that day too), and it's time to get food. I've got metal music playing, which, when finished, switches to Stevie Wonder (thank you iTunes shuffle), a squeaky, buzzy green guitar to my left, and vitamin D coming through the window. I've got a berry pie in the fridge, left over spaghtetti, cold Tater Tots, no money (right now), and comfortable jeans and flip flops. How's that for something?

I have no complaints. I slept for 12 hours after a day with esther and I have almost no homework due on monday. I've run my gauntlet; it's time to reap the rewards of days way spent, at least for one afternoon.

A couple lines

From my favorite pieces I've read this semester.

"I am gall, I am heartburn. God's most deep decree

Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me

Bones built in me, flesh filled, blood brimmed the curse"

- "I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day" by Gerard Manley Hopkins

"This is sound reasoning, I grant, in the mouth of the rich and short-sighted"

- "Vindication of the Rights of Men" by Mary Wollstonecraft

"In moody sadness, on the giddy brink,

I see him more with envy than with fear;

He has no nice felicities that shrink

From giant horrors..."

- "On Being Cautioned against Walking on an Headland Overlooking the Sea, Because It Was Frequented by a Lunatic" by Charlotte Smith

"But they are dead; those two are dead!

Their spirits are in heaven!

'Twas throwing words away; for still

The little Maid would have her will,

And said, Naw, we are seven!"

- "We Are Seven" by William Wordsworth (the only Wordsworth poem I liked)

"Water, water, every where

And all the boards did shrink;

Water, water, every where

Not any drop to drink"

- "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" by Samuel Coleridge

"Prisons are build with stones of Law, Brothels with bricks of Religion."

- "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell" by William Blake

"Darkling I listen; and, for many a time

I have been half in love with easeful death,

Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme

To take into the air my quiet breath"

- Ode to a Nightingale" by John Keats

Those are a couple excepts so far. My favorite has been William Blake's "Marriage of Heaven and Hell" and Robert Browning's dramatic monologues (Poryphyria's Lover, My Last Duchess, etc) which I didn't quote because really, the poems have to be whole to be as awesome.

Ready...

GO

Despite feeling kind of mopey today, I will make it a good day. Performance art and brit lit. Bring it. And studying for Linguistics. Shit. Bring it.

Haiku

Stop yelling at the

Fauna. It has self-esteem

Issues already.

I work

Kind of funny-ish. I stay up late, like usual, but then decide I'm going to get up early to take care of the classwork that needs to be done. Then I wake up and feel sick because I haven't got enough sleep...so not only do skip chapel, but I skip class. Highly effective? I think not.

I am angry

Some people, man....some people make me so freaking upset. Those of you who know me: am I an easy person to upset? I honestly don't think so, but I'm wrong a lot. Why are you trying to make me angry, world?!

~wes~

Yuhjachingo

Tonight (today?) I asked Esther to be my girlfriend, and she said yes. I am very, very glad. I find myself liking her an awful lot. I hope this goes in a good direction; I think it will. She is a walking paradox, and it's so nice to see those things coexist.

~wes~

Another Odd Dream

Yet another odd dream...

I dreamt I was dropping somebody I knew off at practice at this musical, and while I was sitting in the audience, the director asked me if I wanted to go be in it for the night, so I jumped in and danced around and wore funny costumes and laughed a lot because I had no idea what I was doing. Then I was coming home from the practice, and I went to the gas station where there were three people at the same pump including my with my dad's car, and this girl was filling cardboard boxes with gasoline for her hillbilly parents. Then I parked the car and started running up this really steep street, and I ran by the Rana's house where Whitney was growing these ridiculous fields of Corn in their front and back and side yards. I asked her if she needed help, and she said yes, so I helped her move some heavy stuff to the back where she was setting up a new Corn field, and then she tried to seduce me in the Corn. However, she tried to bite me or something and bit me where I had cut myself shaving so I got pissed off and left. Then as soon as I got back to the Mod to go to sleep, Ally Dukes, Audrey Dukes, Laura Keagy, and Whitney were all there telling me I needed to leave to get ready for the opening night of the musical. I was ticked because I thought I had just been messing around, but apparently there were like ten songs I needed to have memorized and I was expected to be in the musical. So after like 20 minutes of convincing, they finally got me to go.

Oh yeah, and one of my costumes in the musical was a dark sea green bikini bottom.

Like I said, don't ask me why.

~wes~