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.