A summer dream poem.

I dreamed you were near me
The other night
Our words poured out to each other
Hearts on our sleeves
Something else in our eyes
More on our lips
Bodies twist and writhe
In the dead of night
Like stars drawn together
In beautiful collisions
We are doomed in gravity
Unable to escape
Or ever forget
Suddenly there
Together again
Because we can't stay away.

The light finally comes
The birds trumpet the dawn
I feel myself fighting
Resisting the Sun
A hopeless fight
And I sigh because
You weren't really there.



Oh that summertime, folks. Makes you think crazy things with the hot night air rolling in through the window. There are crickets outside, and maybe I hear a couple frogs. Crickets, you best cool your jets for a few, don't wanna give away your positions.
Apparently I'm having sex dreams again. Weird. That hasn't happened in a DAMN long time, although I'm not necessarily complaining. Three damn nights in a row, now. Who knows what's next.

On a completely unrelated note, today is my birthday! I'm a ripe old 23 this year. It seems like every year on my birthday I tell myself it's time to get my act together and be an adult. Well hell. Maybe I'm as "adult" as I'll ever be. I guess that wouldn't be the worst thing? I've definitely known a few people who are worse at being a grownup than I am. Growing up is overrated anyways.

Summer in my bones.

Hello, blog. Long time no see. It would seem that I'm not any longer being affected by the depressive episode I was having earlier this year, and it couldn't have come at a better time.

Summer is here! I've always had some rather strong emotions tied to the summer season, and I love it. It makes me long for times past. Like, really past. Like ancient past. The sun starts beaming hard and you can feel it beating under your skin, through your muscles and into your bones. It's a primal thing. I have a certain fondness for heat as well, and not just like comfortable heat. Awful, oppressive, glaring heat that makes you sweat and makes the power lines buzz. That constant summer drone of electricity in the air. Of course that kind of heat is miserable when you're in the thick of it, but I always look back on it fondly. Even the next morning, before the sun reaches it's sniper post in the sky and starts pumping the water from your skin, I like to take a little time and appreciate yesterday.

There's a twinge of sadness to it as well. The longest day of the year has already come and gone. A solemn reminder that all good things must come to an end eventually. Fall will come, though not for a while now, then winter and so on. That is the way of things. There will be droughts, hurricanes, floods, and storms. Then we rebuild while nature regrows. That is a beautiful symbiosis, a reminder that no matter how tall or how wide we build our cities, we can never escape being a part of the world around us. Hopefully an active part at that.

So until I'm red and in pain at even the thought of moving, I'm gonna try to enjoy the sun as much as I can. Bring it on. Try to beat me down with your sweltering fists. I'll just ask for more.

The body fails, and the mind races.

So exhausted right now. Barely slept at all last night for various reasons. I'll say this, though, whiskey doesn't help you forget about things you don't really wanna focus on when you're alone in the dark in the middle of the night. Quite the opposite, really. When you're with people and conversing and having a good time, everything is cool, but then as soon as that stimulus is gone, everything comes flooding back into the brain even stronger than before.

I need to make some decisions here, soon. I kinda know what needs to happen, don't quite know how I'm gonna go about it.

I hate drawing things out that involve multiple people, it just makes me resent them for some reason, even though they have nothing to do with my own procrastination, it's literally all me.
I think I'm too nice sometimes, I care too much about other people's feelings a lot of the time, and it seems like that kind of backfires on me.

Somehow I've come to the point where my own emotions seem insignificant but other people's mean everything. I guess I'm afraid of not being liked. Which really implies a fear of loneliness. Which I'll admit, I'm terrified of being just like really alone in the world. I can deal with some kinds of loneliness a lot better than I think most people do, but only for relatively short periods of time. When it gets extended I go kinda crazy. I will say I deal with it a lot better than a lot of my friends, I see them all seeing each other like basically every day. I couldn't handle that, I would hate it. Maybe I need to be with people I can identify with more? the people I'm thinking of at the moment just drink beer and yell at each other, even if in jest, it's infuriating. I need my solitude sometimes.

So why the hell do I put myself in situations that eventually guarantee loneliness at some point? Is it like some kind of character flaw? Is it a natural part of being a person and I'm just not aware that other people are the same way?

Fuck you, world.

Fuck you, world. You're a fucking bastard. I'm going through a goddamn crisis and all you can think of to fuck it up is bring back shit from the past I would REALLY rather not be reminded of. God damnit. I can't remember having been this fucking angry in a LONG time. My fist was shaking a minute ago, just wanting to hit something and let a little anger go. Nope. Fuck you world, kicking a guy when he's down.

Especially like this.

If anybody reads this, it probably makes no sense to you, and probably doesn't involve you anyways. God help you if it does.

You ever have that feeling?

You ever have that feeling like you want to get something off of your chest and you know you have nowhere private to do it? That's right now for me. Even here in my little unknown, cobwebbed, dark corner of the internet, because I don't know who I know who, or how many people I may or may not know might read this.

If people I don't know read this, no biggie. You don't know me, you don't know parties A, B, or C. If people I DO know read this

God Damnit.

So let's say party A wants to give something to party B. This gift from party A is something very precious and should be an honor to get. Except party B doesn't give a shit about the gift and thinks that party A should be giving this gift to someone who will appreciate it way more. Because honestly, sometimes party B is an asshole. Party B is well aware of this.

Also there's a party C that apparently has no idea they are even involved in the equation.

Oh well.

Here's lookin at you, party C.

Learning more and less, day by day.

I've recently (read as: over a period of probably about half a year) gotten back into Zen practice, in a big way. Or a little way. That's the thing. Zen is suppposed to be a transmission outside of scripture, without letters and words. That's what makes it fascinating to me when people write about it. How can you use any kind of language to describe something that by the Buddha's own account exists outside of the influence of words? People try to do it anyways, and it usually ends up in a confusing jumble of non-words and gibberish. The idea of no-thing instead of nothing and concentrating on awareness without using thoughts seems absurd to most people, even moreso when you only read about it.

I've read the koans, and tried to meditate on them, tried to concentrate on them without thinking. Tried to exist without outside influence, tried to sit and just "be". I think I'm at a stage where I need to find a good teacher. I've exhausted my book resources. There is nothing left to learn about Zen, only to do. This is kind of hard for me. I'm such a scientific-minded person that it feels really strange for me to not try to study something objectively. But there are no theses or scholarly articles about Zen. Sure, there are articles about experiences with Zen, but nothing concrete, because it's impossible to study from the "outside", as it were.

As much as I would love to be able to objectively study Zen, I am always reminded that in a monastery, doing such a thing would inevitably result in a swift whack to the head from a master. It goes against the very nature of the thing.

Get back to normal.

I'm usually a very calm individual. Rational, intelligent, funny, entertaining, a fun person to be around. Those are the ways people usually describe me. No one ever associates me with anger, because even if I am angry sometimes, I can just let it go, because the mundane shit in life isn't worth getting actually upset over.

Every once in a while, however, something hits a chord in me. Now I'm not sure whether the times when that happens are the result of other things I never dealt with, or if it's just sort of a "perfect storm" scenario. Either way, it is genuinely frightening when I let it all go. I try not to do that, but sometimes it happens. It scares me, and it scares other people. I'm an imposing figure. Not especially tall, but with a solid frame and fairly muscular. When I get angry, I yell. I already have a very deep voice and when I yell you can hear it from almost anywhere on my block. I think this may go back to the whole I don't deal with my anger effectively thing. I don't even get angry or annoyed on a regular basis anymore. I get full on rage every once in a great while.

Usually, I can ignore a problem. It works for me. Acknowledge that something is making me angry and let it pass me by. Observe the issue at hand but don't attach myself to it. Well fuck. I don't know if I'm just in some "super sensitive to that shit right now" mode of thought at the moment or what (Super moon tomorrow, you guys!) but there has been a lot of shit recently and it seems like I have a lot of backed up anger in my system right now. I think it's the combo of the end of term, everybody being in close quarters all the time (the roommates aren't in rehearsals as much so I don't get my "me-time").

Also a huge factor in this is that my mother's stepfather died a couple days ago. It's just hitting me right now, really. I hadn't even seen him in a couple years, but I miss him like crazy. My mother's biological father died when she was a teenager. Same with my dad. Bill was the only grandfather figure I ever knew and that just makes it hit harder for me. He was the ideal of what a man should be when I was young, and I think I've been trying to live up to what he was my entire life. He was big, ballsy, manly Texan. He had a booming voice and the biggest heart you could ever imagine. I remember when his wife died, he shut himself off from the world for a while. However unhealthy that may be, I thought it was the strongest image in the world. A man, alone to confront his demons, by his own choice. I still admire his strength of mind and character. He always had time to see his grandkids, and I loved every minute of it. I never got to see him as much as I wanted to, but it seemed like a weakness to express that I missed him at the time. We were real men. We didn't need other people to make us feel good. We had pride and confidence in ourselves and that was all we needed. I think in a sense I still deeply believe that. Every once in a while I have a deep longing to be alone in the world. I want to be completely alone with my thoughts. Maybe I need to try to find out who I really am on a deeper level. I'm fairly confident in how I see myself, but there is always more to be found.
Maybe I'll go survival camping again soon. Just me and the woods.

One last thing that I won't really talk about. A couple recent events in particular have lead to me losing a little faith in someone I consider a good friend, and that is very sad.

I'm a little less angry now, and a little more sad. I think I'm going to go try to meditate before bed.