I want to start writing about some lone, isolated memories I have. Lately, one in particular has stood out to me:

My family and I visiting Mexico, staying in a resort. I was little, but not little enough to sleep in my parents' bed, and seeing as how there weren't enough rooms for all of us in the family, I was forced to sleep on this bed/couch/sofa thing (I really have no clue what it was) in the main living area.

And it was off to the side, all tucked away, this little bed/couch thing. But it was my little sanctuary. And I remember reading specifically, a C.S. Lewis book, and a particular scene in the book--a fleet of people crossing a desert.

And there I was with a little tiny lamp near my bed, and myself snuggled in my little sanctuary and reading and being transported into whole new worlds of the desert and camels.

For some reason the memory has been stuck in my mind lately.

I am strangely suspicious of apples that are overly shiny.

I always like to hear the contrast.

Me walking down the side walk, the only noise the gentle pad-pad-pads of my shoes.

And then the other guy, walking towards me, slamming down his shoes down with a "Ka-BANG, Ka-BANG, Ka-BANG."

It's neat.

I remember when I was a kid and I'd hear the creaking and clanking of some far off construction machine and I'd think it was the screech of a velocirapture.

I miss driving back at night with Noah and listening to In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. It was the perfect music for then.

I woke up from a short nap today—about a fifteen minuter--completely disoriented. For in my dream I had a completely new identity and new life and new people I had known for a long while.

And it was kind of disturbing. You know, waking up and then changing lives in a matter of seconds.

I'm sitting in my room with my blinds closed, listening to a cd I just got. It reminds me of autumn--not the transient time that we are in now, but the full-blown autumn type, with the leaves all different colors and the weather cool.

And so I'm just sitting in my room, listening to my new cd with my blinds closed, pretending it's full-blown autumn outside.

Today's my birthday. Tomorrow it will not be.

Am I looking at this wrong?

You know those days where you wake up thinking that this is going to be the worst day ever, and then because of this thinking, it's the worst day ever?

Nice!
Now, I profusely
sweat
in my sleep,
either because
the heat the sheets the stress.
Whatever it is, I love it!

Really, the only thing I literally want for my birthday is one of those huge, wacky straws.

that and more concentration, less sleepiness, more motivation, more creativity, more happiness.

that and being able to climb the small apple tree in my friend’s backyard with the same pleasure as when I was ten.

I need to be reminded...why in the hell I should continue this blog.

I think there's a part of me that refuses to be happy. A part that every time I am feeling jaunty, says, "What are you doing? This isn't you. Go back to being negative." Maybe it's just me betraying my negative self. The negative self that thinks, "It's always going to be this way, it won't get better."

But this can't be good.

I just wrote something, but saved it as a draft because it was too personal.

So none of you will ever see it.

How bout that, bitches?

Sometimes, my face will be so molded into a frown, it hurts to smile. It hurts to laugh. It hurts me.

just to write something...

This one kid told me he hadn't written a word this summer, so now his handwriting sucks. I remember when I was like that...

But I'm not going to talk to that kid, nor that me, again.

You know, today my eyes were wandering, and they passed this one girl. And I just looked at this girl for a few seconds, and all of a sudden—it must have been her head tilted a certain way, or something—all of a sudden I got this perfect image of how she would look when she is older. And it freaked me out. Her she is, a eighteen year old girl, and I’m getting this perfect view of her as a forty year old. I even shuddered.

It could have been a burst of humanity in me. A burst of the circle of human life. A burst of understanding.

Or it could have been me being weird.

I’m weird.

Hi, my name is Harris, and I'm a morning person.

Hi, my name is Susie, and I'm a night person.

Hi, my name is Trevor, and I'm not a fucking morning person or a fucking night person. Fuck this shit.

Do you ever get it where you see someone, but it's at a sort of funky angle for you, so normally you wouldn't have seen the someone, and so you just go on like you don't see the someone? But for the someone it's not at all a funky angle and you are fairly certain they see you. And then you wait for the someone to say hi, but they never say hi, so you finally give in and act like you are looking off to the side, and suddenly see them, and give a "hi!"

And then the someone looks all surprised and excited and exclaims "hi!"

But really, you secretly know the someone is lying...and wouldn't have said hi.

Pish posh.

Today I was in a theatre type setting and I was watching people performing skits and each skit lasted for about 2 minutes and then it would go dark and then the people would get ready for the next skit.

That meant there was about 10 seconds of total blackness.

And I liked it.

One could do anything without the watchful eyes of society horning in on him. And no, I don't mean completely vile, disgusting things. Personal things, like maybe a nose pick, a crotch scratch, a re-adjustment. I don't know. Smelling one's armpit to see if one needs deodorant.

The point is, there was this brief period of time where one could escape from the goading eyes of society.

And it was nice.

.........Shut up.

You know what's sad to me?

If one hasn't seen someone for a long time; someone's been away at some marvelous destination. One asks someone, "How was it" or "What was it like" or "What did you do". And then someone just responds generically, "you know, good" or "pretty good" or "not too much."

And that's when one realizes that someone doesn't exist.

No wait... he exists; just miles and miles and miles away.

I made progress today. Because usually I am an indecisive human; I find it hard to believe when someone has a feverish view on something...because things are just so hard to know for certain.

But today I found out something. I made progress.

I figured out body wash isn't for me.

Bar soap will do, thanks.

Whenever whomever made me made me, he or she cast his or her finger down upon me and said, “This here person shall go through life with a curse! Every time he forgets to tip someone (and by “forgets to tip someone” I mean he is too stupid to realize he needs to tip someone), every time he realizes he didn’t tip someone, he shall WITHER away and suffer complete agony, because he feels so ashamed of not tipping the someone. And he won’t be able to get it out of his head as well.” And then whomever made me probably walked away.

.................I was cursed, it’s true.

I used to hate red lights.

Now they're my favorite.