I'm too lazy to be apathetic

I feel like crap.  I am going to sleep.

I am twenty.  Yeah, it happened.  Well, I suppose technically not for a few more hours yet, but even so.

I'm in dire need of sleep, more than anything else, so will perhaps attend to that.  But am glad to at least have been awake during the last few hoursof nominal teen-dom.

Taking a hiatus from blogging in general.  There are probably better ways to
stay in touch with people, and I am frustrated by my own blogging habits at
the moment.  Will probably continue to update the book list, and alternate
means of staying in touch are still welcomed and encouraged.

5-9-07

dear universe

well gee golly wow isnt life great

hugs and kisses

shaw

ps FUCK

It's beautiful outside right now.  The weather is perfect, and the moon is full.  I want to be walking around out there.

It's nights like these that inspire me to reckless and venturesome thoughts.  It's only on the still and cool and moonlit nights that I feel this way.  It's only on these nights that I can look at the rest of the day, the rest of my life, and see it with something that feels like clarity.  I see that every action I take is a holding action, part of an n-dimensional balancing act in which I try to keep myself poised on the fulcrum, refusing to let the system shift too far in any direction.  I stay at the center of this network of possibility, afraid of losing all the potential here collected.  And it would be lost, were I to choose.  We don't get to make decisions over again.  Spend infinite possibility to buy one reality?  I so rarely decide to make that purchase.

It's only on nights like these that I even see my actions in these terms.  It's only on nights like these that the purchase seems a bargain.  I can see that the best things in my life came to pass when I decided to commit myself to a single avenue.  The worst things came  to pass here as well, but the things that give my life fullness and solidity are rooted in those moments when I exchanged the possible for the concrete.  Tonight, that statement seems a tautology, almost too true to be worth stating, but I know that it will fail to convince me in the morning.

And I wonder.  What kind of truth might lie here, that I can only see it on still and cool and moonlit nights?

My inability to write my history paper has started to recede.  Unfortunately, the good weather provides a much-welcomed new distraction.  Progress continues at a crawl.  Still, I'm not complaining, really.  The block seems to be dissipating, and life is pretty far from terrible.  I wish I didn't feel so directionless, but what is a bootless college student to do?  Speaking of which, I'll have to make sure I don't endure another winter here without boots.  But spring puts considerations like that far into the future, which contains all sorts of things right now, and only some of them pleasant.

I hadn't realized that depth is something one can run out of, but I seem to have managed it.  I'm somehow stuck in the second dimension.  Everything has fallen flat.  I can draw as many surfaces and cross-sections as I like, but put them all together and I still have something that is only an abstraction, an illusion, of depth.

Back to work, trying to write.  The writing, too, has fallen flat.

I'm sitting by myself in the common room now.  Nobody's around.  I've dropped the class, but I still feel like I should be in the lab.  I can't think about anything else, and this troubles me.  So, naturally, I'm writing bad poetry for the Livejournal.

They call it a rest,
This moment of
Silence.
But silence is to me heavy labor,
Duress.

I sit, hands poised
Ready to move, to be
In motion.

While all of me waits
For the music to begin again.

I haven't eaten well, slept well, or worked well for over a week now.  I'm feeling panicky, frightened, frantic.  I don't want to be around anybody right now, but being alone seems like a terrible idea.  I have too much work to do in not enough time.  This is nothing new.  I may have just perjured myself because I thouhght "east" and said "west".  Shit.  Somehow, I now have a lawyer.  How did that happen?  My shoulder is functional but will not stop aching.  I think I have done or have allowed my father to do at least two things that the lawyer told me not to do.  Shit.

I'm realizing that I am not grown up at all.  I'm still a child, and I don't know how to deal with any of this.  I'm not ready.  I'm not prepared.  I don't think I'm even prepared for the things that have already happened to me.  I'm not prepared to do things that I have already done.   That's terrifying.  I just want to get away from all this, but the only real solutions seem to lie in immersing myself in it.

I'm freaking out.  And I'm telling it to my LiveJournal.

For those of you who have managed not to hear about it yet:

Yes, I was hit by a car Saturday night.
No, nothing is broken.
Yes, my left arm will be in this sling for a few days at least.
Yes, I feel really crappy right now.
No, it was not a hit-and-run.
No, I am not suing the guy.

I'd offer more details, but typing one-handed is really difficult.