"You've got to make yourself something special"

"I wish I could just forget."
"I mean, keep the learning part of it, but take that person's name out of my head and not remember anything about him."

----

"It makes me so mad because I know that right now, he's probably not even thinking about me, probably sitting there watching tv or playing a video game, while here I am, unable to stop thinking about him. Really really trying hard not to think about him."
"It really pisses me off, I'm seriously sick waste my time on people who don't care. People who do not care. Its so aggravating. Why do I care? Why do I care?? Why do I care about people who don't give a shit??"

..there she goes again.

"We have a lot of similarities"
"What, in guys?"
"yeah"
"Yeah I know, we should learn from each other's mistakes... but it seems like they happen at the same time!"

----

Writing here is hard. I feel like everything is so minute and laughable small in light of the previous blog entries.
My plan is to keep things simple, record daily life, and try not to dwell or obsess about unimportant things. I think the hardest part will be disconnecting myself from my daily learning and experiences. How is this possible?
In the face of temporal existance, why do I still care how I look; who said what?
It's like, Don't sweat the small stuff...It's all small stuff.
ungh!#%)!&^!!!

today
I've discovered I really like the semicolon.
I make fun of myself when I do stupid things..like burning my finger on a skillet.
I'm dreaming of designing my own studio.
I'm working on a triptych series for painting. I'm trying not to let it be purely representational of a bad subject. The colors are bright, not sure if they will be toned down later.
I'm trying not to give a sh8 about stupid things.
Its still hard to talk about the events of last weekend. Most people read "Where were you last night?" and think it is fiction.
Contemplations: What is the line between ego and confidence? aggressiveness and self-respect? Over-zealous and immaturity?

swamped with papers, not much sleep.
I still feel guilty for posting this.
I despise this feeling.

...maybe its in the face of the huge unknowns that make the knowns more precious.

his last record

I do not believe that someone, if they are so inclined to pray, should _ever_ be stingy with their prayers. Doesn't that defeat the purpose?

have you seen me?

Ready for Christmas Shopping 2004?

...
ok, sorry I'm really not that sardonic about the season,
it was a rather ironic accident;)

Rhii: Can I Shout?

George's prayer

I just found out that my friend's friend, George committed suicide last night.
Please pray for him and all those he has left here on earth.

When I saw him, he was smiling, and everything seemed to be ok.
He was embarrassed to change his shirt in front of me, but didnt seem to move, so i playfully covered my eyes.
We made fun with each other, and everything seemed to be ok.

What pain did the smiling man hide behind those eyes?
Such a playful night turned suicide.
Like children, so quickly matured.

I knew him for one hour.

Where were you last night?

"Those who remember that we must come to an end in this world,
their quarrels cease at once." ~ Dhammapada

"Well, just pretend like it didn't happen."
"It's not like I'll relate you to that, I know i'll remember you as someone who was there with me when it happened. Sometimes these things just happen. I'm sure its not a usual occurance. Otherwise, there wouldn't be any more parties."
"I understand, I know you didn't have anything to do with what happened. I'm sure they are all really nice people... I'm just glad you were there."
"I'm really sorry about all of this. I can't believe G-- would do something like that. It's really not like him. He's not the kind of guy that would do something like that."
"No I think I just need to go to sleep."
"Should I come up?"
"Thank you.."
"Pray for him!"
"Yes! GO AWAY! Get out of here! Leave him alone!!!"
"You guys have called the police right? The police are on their way?"
"George!?"
"Yeah, that'll do it."
"Here's a brick."
"I need something to break the window. He's not responding."
"He looks limp."
"Can you see him?? Is he OK???"
"Please Lord, Why am I here?"
"Please lord let everything be ok, please lord let everything be ok, please lord let everything be ok, please lord let everything be ok......"
"Did he shoot himself?! Has anyone looked?!"
"Yes I have an emergency, a friend of mine has..."
"Somebody call 911! Somebody call 911!"
"Oh my god, What has happened?"
"Did he actually shoot himself?!???"
"What happened, oh my god what has happened.?"
"I said S-- went out on the porch."
"What did you say?"
"He's on the porch. He went that way."
"Where's S--?"
"I don't know."
"Where's A--??"
"He shot the gun.
The gun has gone off.
He's shot the gun."
"G-- has locked himself in his car; his guns are in there!"
"Hmm.. I'll go check with A-- and make sure everything is ok."
"Guys, maybe you'd better leave, there is some weird drama going down tonight."

"I want to take you over to a housewarming party. They're all really cool people. A-- is a lot of fun, she's really eccentric, just a great girl!"
"She has a roommate named G--. He's also a really great guy."
"Hi, nice to meet you. Yeah I'm --. Have I seen you somewhere before?"
"Maybe at ____. I used to work there."
"Yeah! I think I've seen you there and around Chatt."
"These aren't my records, but hey' I'm throwin' them."
"Yeah, they're all really cool and seem like really nice people. I know I've seen a lot of them around town before.."

"Those who remember that we must come to an end in this world,
their quarrels cease at once." ~ Dhammapada

deficient

The events of last night all feel very surreal.
I've felt very disconnected from it, because I didn't really know anyone I was with.
It has been on my mind constantly throughout today.
I am not sure how to feel about the events, but wish to simply record some thoughts and my reactions

I've felt very vulnerable all day. I need to be surrounded, hidden, enveloped in safety... I need someone with a connection, tangible and reciprocal. I needed something solid to hold on to. The closest thing I've found is family. I woke my sister up last night, sobbing on her shoulder.

All this idea of change, how everything changes, and trying to overcome the fear of it, my first reaction of this was one of clinging.

I have been without my watch for the past couple of weeks, its been very different not knowing what time it was, always having to ask, and it promoted a feeling of drifting. I didn't get "ready" per say, when headed to hamilton place.
Driving up the interstate, the transient feeling was heightened.
I was driving faster than usual, my temper has been shorter than normal
My brow has been furrowed more than once today.

After I got my watch fixed, some part of me calmed down. Time was an anaesthetic.

The piece I posted on the last blog, is something that I would have painted on canvas to represent this.
My supplies are on campus. I needed an outlet.

Everything has been muted.
All previous "drama," quelled.
I was in the eye of the storm, standing on their sidewalk, praying.
I wanted to go out tonight.
I wanted to smoke tonight.
I don't want to think about this, and I don't want to be sober.
I want to forget.
My self-control is a a tenuous wall, holding back the breaker. It only fails when I vocalize the events.

When I was going to take a shower, and get ready to leave, a book fell off my bookshelf. It was the subject I am supposed to be reading tonight to prepare myself for a large paper due this week. I'm worried about paying off my cc, and don't want to withdraw even 7 dollars to pay entry at rnb. I've decided to stay in.

...I will always remember standing in their front yard, on the sidewalk, the white car in view, seeing S-- taking a brick to the window, trying to get to the man inside. I have never felt so helpless as I did walking down the front stoop, crouching down to hug my knees and crying when I didn't want to walk any further around the house.
I saw his friends in pieces, breaking down and screaming, crawling helplessly across the yard and running headlong into the street. I stood in the yard and prayed.
I didn't know what else to do.
I don't know how I feel about leaving, without helping them further.
They told us to leave, I was an outsider, my first time ever meeting them, S-- and I left because they told us to.
I don't know if they checked on him.
I don't know if he is ok.
I don't know if he even shot himself or if the gun even went off.
I didn't hear anything, because I was inside, two large speakers blaring.

I questioned God why was I there.
After I prayed and bowed my head, openly.. trying as hard as I could to not be ashamed, clarity came over me as I turned my head to the left, seeing S-- and another friend come down the back porch stairs.
The friend grabbed a brick, after S--'s request to have something to break the window. I remember affirming it's effectiveness.
I turned, nearly as slow motion as watching S-- hit the brick against the car window, and asked the man's friends to confirm that the police had been called.
They were hiding behind the hedge beyond the yard. Some still screamingand crying. I wondered why he couldn't hit the window harder. "Wasn't he trying??" Everything was filled with desparation.
Seeing us trying to break through to him, his friends became even more panicked, and began yelling at us to leave.
I remember trying to repress my tears as I walked through the house after hearing the messenger. I tried to not cry because I knew that there would be panic. I didn't want to add to it.
I couldn't help it.
I crouched below the hedge and cried after descending the porch, only momentarily, until I heard A-- on the phone with 911.

I've been told that it's not my fault, that there wasn't anything more I could have done to help.
I just wish I would have known him, then maybe I could have talked to him, you know, helped him from being so depressed. Maybe if I had struck up a conversation, and talked with him for hours, it would not have happened.
..
I know its not my fault, its not s-'s fault, its not anyone's fault but his own.
Unfortunately, it doesn't make it any less traumatic for those involved.

The events of last night seemed to happen succinctly--I hadn't even planned on going out.

It helps me to see this,
to read this on my site.
All previous entries will not live up to my need for these two.
this is of its own just.
The writing is broken, the time warped.

I am ok.
I am waiting to hear back from S.