Postlet #5-21

I stayed up too late last night so naturally I was quite unreceptive when my alarm went off at 530 this morning. It was dark and I still wanted to sleep. In "bec is not a morning person" tradition I fought with it for another hour or so.

When I finally did wake up my eyes opened wide as I rolled over. Even through the blinds in my room I could see this beautiful pink light. The sun was doing magic out my window.

That was motivation enough. I couldn't wait to go out the door for work so that I could watch as I drove. I changed my route and took A1A just so I could be closer to it as it rose higher over the ocean.

Is that silly?

You know, even if the answer came back that I was crazy for it I wouldn't stop. I think I smiled most of the way in, amazed at what I saw and glad to be alive to enjoy it.

Captured At: 910

"Now that you've seen your true reflection..."

Have you ever stood in front of a mirror and looked at yourself? No, not to check your hair or brush your teeth. I'm not talking about that kind of looking. Have you ever stood in front of a mirror and really looked at yourself?

Or maybe the better question is, have you ever stood in front of a mirror and looked into yourself?

I had one of those moments today. I can't say I know what prompted it, but I felt like I needed to go spend a few minutes staring myself in the face.

It's obvious to tell where this goes next. When I looked, what did I see?

The first thought, the same one that comes to my mind every time I look in the mirror or see a picture of myself, was "That can't be me". Don't ask me what I think I look like, but I never quite expect what I actually find.

I looked at my eyes. They were most definitely brown, though I've caught them on days when they appeared green and have been told they're actually hazel. I watched my pupils change size and tried to see what was hidden in the blackness.

The girl in the mirror knows something. What she knows is difficult to tell, but the fact that she does is there almost taunting anyone who really looks. I smiled when I realized I have no idea what she's keeping even though we're the same person.

I saw in my eyes everything people had ever told me I was that I wouldn't believe. I saw courage, confidence and strength. I saw kindness and beauty. I saw love and understanding. I even saw the sparkle whose occasional disappearance makes my closest friends nervous.

I understood why the doubt, fear, sadness, loneliness and pain that I'm all too familiar with had often been missed. If I looked carefully enough though, I could see all of those things too.

Yes, I was everything they said and everything I believed.

I watched my face change as different memories and ideas ran through my mind. I stared at my features until they became distorted and ugly, then snapped back to what I was used to seeing. I observed where I wasn't quite in proportion between my left and right side and how my lips never seemed to line up properly. I looked young, then old. Tired, then revived.

I fixed my eyes on the ones in my reflection and thought of the worst things I'd done in my life. I wanted to see what changes those brought about.

It was amazing to find there was nothing there. I didn't show guilt or shame or regret. I just saw acceptance of the fact that I'd made mistakes and felt the desire to do better next time.

Unexpectedly I found myself smiling. I realized that I liked what I saw. The person in front of me wasn't perfect, but she wasn't bad as far as people go either.

It's an incredible feeling to be able to look yourself in the eye and say, "Yes, I do like what I see. I like who I am and I will do my very best to make sure I can say that next time I'm faced with me."

Then I realized how lucky I was that I could do that. I thought of all the people who can't stand the sight of themselves; the people who look in the mirror and see everything that needs to be changed. I thought of the people who take their disdain for themselves out on others around them. I was thankful to not be on that other side.

How we see ourself is critical in life. It's hard to be happy with others or in general if you can't be happy with yourself. For me, I'm secure in who I am. I'm happy with who I am. I like who I am. I'm also dedicated to making sure I can always say those things because they're all important.

So today I'm happy, not just because the sun was amazing and I was given another day, but because I realized that I really do like me. What's a better discovery than that?

Captured At:1910

Waiting...

Six-thirty in the morning and there was a haze over the world. Despite this the moon was sharper than I can recall seeing it. It's headed toward a crescent that I look forward to smiling back at. There's a quality to the atmosphere under the conditions I found when I walked out the door that I've never been able to describe. I've learned that sometimes the best things in life are like that; you know and feel them, but they can't be explained.

I had to go back upstairs for my water because I met Milo and realized I'd forgotten it. I don't know why I went; I never seem to drink anything even though I carry the same container to and from my office every day. It's currently filled to around 600mL and I can't say I have any idea how long it's been there. This container sits on my desk untouched, gets taken home where it's returned to the fridge, then comes out in the morning to do it all again. It's a strange, sad cycle in some ways.

I feel a lot like that bottle right now. I go through the same things day after day giving the illusion that I'm serving some purpose, but I'm not. Every morning I wake up knowing something isn't quite right, but what that something is I can't say. Even on the best days that sense stays with me until I go to sleep and when I wake up it's right back there again.

Going through the motions is such a terrible existence. It's no way to experience life. There has to be something more there; some flame of passion to keep you going because you actually feel that each day is worth living.

I find that as I move through time I generate a lot of sparks. Some have created small fires that kept me warm for a while. Some, I think, made fires for people around me. But everything I've spent time next to has either burned out or been walked away from.

It is often said that once you know you can't go back. I've been touched by greater flames than the few I struggle to notice now. This is why I can be unhappy where others are content to sit and roast marshmallows. I need more.

Need really is the right word there. I'm getting by on less, but I'm falling so far short of where I should be. I'm more than what my life has become. There has to be something else. There has to be. I refuse to believe this is it.

None of this gets me anywhere though. I say these things and I can feel more sparking that nothing comes of. It's like I know everything I'm looking for is just out of reach, but I can't see where because I'm blindfolded.

Perhaps the lesson I'm supposed to learn here is patience. It's our weaknesses that always need the most work and that’s certainly one of mine.

Captured At: 752

Every now and again a moment comes along where we look at a person in our life and truly appreciate them. That's not to say we didn't care about them before, but sometimes it really hits how valuable they are to us.

Tonight I realize that it has been a long time since I said anything about how thankful I am for my sister. I'll never have enough words to explain how much Liz means to me, but I can say that having her in my life has been a blessing. I love her dearly and I don't know where I would be without her.

Captured At:2200

"He was impressive, young and aggressive, savin' the world on his own..."

I've been employing the help of Radio Margaritaville to carry me through my days at work. Currently playing through my headphones is Jimmy Buffett's "He Went to Paris."

For a long time I wouldn't listen to the song. I'd skip it, plug my ears, or talk over it in the car. It fell on a short list of songs that made me cry, which is something I've never liked to do. Actually, it's clear it still falls on that list as I realize that even now I'm a bit choked up.

Thinking of it now I see that this song spoke to me even if I didn't realize it at the time. It made me sad because I felt for the main character in a very personal way. I didn't feel sorry for him; I actually understood and experienced his pain like it had happened to me. I can still feel that, but I now think of something else as well.

The year I graduated from high school our parents were asked to provide a baby picture and a short message to send us on our way. These were put into the last edition of the school yearbook we'd ever own. Most of the notes expressed pride and confidence in the child's success, but mine was different.

The caption next to my picture read "Little Miss Magic- Whatcha-gonna-be?" I smile as I recall this because I realize that even now, nearly six years later and post my college graduation, that question remains to be answered.

Mom's message was simple; a slight modification of the only comment the man from "He Went to Paris" makes on his experiences.

"Some of it's magic...
Some of it's tragic...
But have a good life all the way."

Captured At: 857

Scenes from a Sushi Restaurant

As I sat at the bar I couldn't help feeling like I was in a movie. My head was tilted down, turned slightly to the left. Closest to me was Derek's right arm cradling his menu. My eyes traced that forward until they met the clear, solid encasement of ingredients I'd rather not know the origin of and a pair of thin, frosted pipes. Light reflected off both the glass and the polished wood of the bar. The place was bursting with life and conversation, but the words of everyone around blurred to an incoherent noise in my mind. Layered under that I was able to identify Dido's "White Flag" coming from speakers that could have been anywhere.

A strange feeling appeared inside of me. There I was, out like everybody said I should be, but it changed nothing. I thought of all the crowded places I could sit myself in and how empty a life of doing that seemed. I thought of time and the people it would continue to move in and out of my life. I thought about how constructed what I was experiencing appeared to be. It was surreal; a scene that couldn't have been better directed if one tried.

The only other offering I could pick out for the soundtrack of that dinner was "She Will be Loved." I seem to catch that on the radio more and more lately even though it's been out for a while. I momentarily stopped eating and rested my head on my hand to take a few deep breaths as I tried getting parts of September to find less visible positions in my memory. Mostly it worked.

For now.

Captured At: 947

"Never look back, that's what he swore..."

"Take Another Road" weaved its way between my ears when I sat down at my desk this morning. Given that I took a new way in I suppose it was all to appropriate. Timing aside it's a song I've always liked. Lyrically it's not significant, but there's a feel to it that captured me the first time I heard it and squeezes a little every so often to remind me it hasn't let go.

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday. I suppose it shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone that I played Bad Catholic. I didn't go to mass and I think chicken soup counts as meat. I never liked Lent; there were so many rules that just didn't make any sense to me. That and it was pretty much guaranteed Mom would try to make me eat fish at least once. Yuck! I always tried to worm out of that one. I was such a stubborn child.

It suddenly dawns on me what a pain in the butt I must have been. "You never do anything you don't want to do," Liz would always say. She still says that. Come to think of it she may have a point.

I don't think I was a bad kid even when I was branded that way. The people who made me out to be had usually put me in a less than desirable situation and didn't know how to deal with me under the circumstances. That's not to say my behaviour was always right, but it wasn't ever anything completely unexpected either. Despite what I've been told I think I'm fairly easy to predict.

That said, I should get back to work. I wanted something good to write about but it hasn't revealed itself yet. We'll see what the rest of the day brings.

Captured At: 822

Early

There's a strange stillness to the air. I've just been driven up to a cement area overlooking the water. A person I barely know and have never met is talking to me as we walk toward some one I know very well. Their white shirt blends in with the concrete pillars and all I can identify them by is the back of their head. I never see my escort.

An instant later, or so it seems, my two companions and I are sitting on a couch. My faceless guide leans against the arm holding me in what is clearly a comforting embrace. Their distant partner sits in front of me taking advantage of the full support the couch has to offer. Their head is tilted left, facing my direction. In their eyes I see a flash acknowledging how they feel in the silence - sad, helpless, powerless.

In an explosion of noise earthy hues turn to black. I jump out of bed to silence the offender and wonder where everything I'd seen could possibly come from. Did I really want to be awake at six in the morning? What was I thinking when I did that? A few more questions and I'm on my feet.

I dress in the past - a black t-shirt advertising tuition at work, a grey sweatshirt with my name on it that I'd always worn with pride, and an indigo jacket that just months ago finally crossed the Florida border.

The disheveled figure in the mirror projects an image of somnolent excitement. She blinks a few times before walking away, leaving the apartment in a darkened silence once again.

The roads were quiet and the parking lot deserted. I pulled at my jeans as I approached the boardwalk surprised that they seemed to slip even with the added thickness of the purple pajama pants hidden beneath them. At 40 degrees layers is the only option there is.

I don't know when I arrived or how long I stayed. My time was spent standing on a small rock half way to the edge of the water. Even though I saw where it met the rainbowed dome of the sky I still felt it was limitless.

It wasn't the ocean I was taking in at all. It was the power of the moment that found me on that beach. It was the way I seemed to warm as I focused on the dark orange layer of the sky. It was the way I could close my eyes and feel every wave as it met the shore. It was feeling the wind blowing through me and watching the birds come closer as I melted into the landscape.

The sun moved up and so did the water. Foam that had molded itself around rocks nearly fifteen feet away was now creeping closer. Ten feet. Five feet. It would take me if I wasn't careful, but I was drawn to the glow that danced inside of it. I saw the highlights on every wave and every damp stretch of sand.

Further out than I could ever reach a magnificent orange sphere reveled its full form. We were perfectly aligned, me looking straight at him and him shining right into me. I turned and saw my shadow stretched to the stairs. In all my life I'd never appeared so great in stature.

I walked back up the beach with eyes following my footprints as they disappeared toward where I'd just departed from. Change. Movement. Stepping forward. Looking backward. Mysteriously beautiful. That's what life was. Each compression of grains I'd made could only be done once. Even if I had the same destination I'd never go back exactly the same way again.

Before I turned toward my car I took a few more glances at the water and the fiery child it had produced somewhere beyond the end of my vision. A new day had begun.

Captured At: 959

Postlet #5-213

From what I can see out my window it looks like the day has started beautifully. 41 isn't the most appealing temperature I could see in the top of my screen, but it's better than some places I've lived. I'll take it.

Last night I watched the sunset from Wickham Park as Melissa and I wandered the grounds. She and I spent the day together after Milo's oil change and it was her who first pointed at the moon.

The moon and I have a lot of history. I've looked to it for answers and comfort and smiles so many times in the course of my twenty-three years that he's probably the most consistent friend I've ever had. :: laughs :: I have a pet rock. A big one over 200,000 miles away. :: shakes head ::

We smiled at each other last night walking around the park and home. The clouds blurred the view a little, but I knew he was there looking out for me. I made another quick run outside after it had gotten dark and we spent another few moments together. I couldn't not smile, but there was something else hanging there; a slight sadness lightly blowing through me. "I'm trying," I told him. "It's hard, but I know what I have to do and I'm doing what I can."

It's difficult to explain exactly what I feel right now. I've lost words for every emotion I could claim because they seem to have manifested themselves in physical sensation. I don't quite know what to do with that. As difficult as it is for me to get things out of my head it seems even tougher to push them out of my body.

My last view was as I drove Melissa home. She pointed out the deep orange smile around the airport and I had another quick look. When I passed by in the opposite direction he was gone. Vanished. Once again I was alone.

Captured At: 703

"I believe that my life's gonna see the love I give returned to me..."

The darkness of a pre-dawn Monday swirls around the room. As usual I've kindly asked my alarm for an extra twenty minutes, but today I'm passing that time awake instead of squeezing some final droplets of rest into it. Moments later I'm out of bed, eyes tracing lines where the water vapor I've produced hasn't quite clung to the bathroom mirrors. It's quiet and still dark. I dress, throw a few snacks into my backpack and disappear out the door. For me it's like every other day.

The away messages shared by acquaintances on my buddy list send both pleasant and unhappy thoughts to their readers; the second sentiment outnumbering the first. This Valentine's Day love appears to be in short supply. College and beyond puts us a long way from when February 14th was marked by the distribution of tiny envelopes that hid pictures of our favorite cartoon characters telling us how wonderful we were.

I've never understood the point of this holiday. That's a stereotypical statement from some one who's alone, but it's one I also made about the last four when I wasn't. I spent most of them fighting for this very reason.

Valentine's has become a couple's day of obligation. We buy cards and jewelry and stuffed animals and have nice dinners in the name of romance because that's how the world does things. I don't buy into it. I don't believe in waiting for a specific day to show some one you love them. Some random nice thing means a lot more to me than something scripted in film and radio.

For a long time I thought this outlook was because I didn't understand love. I can't say that anymore. I've recently come to see it differently. I've felt what I didn't know existed and shown something beyond it in a way I didn't know I was capable of. There is no doubt in my mind I'm changed forever because of that.

What I speak of is on a much higher level than what's commonly thrown around. Real love is not merely a feeling or the right set of actions. It's a choice. It has no conditions, limitations or alternate motivation. To give that and realize what you're doing is extremely powerful.

Knowing I have that inside of me is incredible, but I'm also seeing how difficult it is to hold onto. I fight to keep it as the strongest feeling in my heart and the primary thought in my brain. Now that I'm aware of what I can give I'm trying to see where I can apply it more broadly in my life. It's not easy, but if I can succeed at this I know the struggle will be more than worth it. A little love is all you need.

Captured At: 724

"Life's so easy today..."

One by one letters appear on the page fighting to put words to something that can't be communicated in that manner. Within seconds the flickering bar they've been chasing turns on them and they're destroyed one by one. It seems a cruel way to go. They were trying so hard.

This is one of the reasons I like music; it stirs feelings words can't even find a recipe for. Looking at all the abilities I've been gifted with it's almost ironic that I took my confirmation name from the patron saint of one thing I never felt I could do.

Knowing your strengths is important. Being able to apprecite strengths in other people that you lack is even more so.

Today finds me in an unexpectedly good mood. My insides are gushing forth a joy they can't seem to contain. Do I know why? Nope. I haven't got a clue, but I think I'll enjoy it.

Happiness is something that has become a footnote in the World's Guide to Life. This pamphlet of mismatched pages sends people toward an illusion of what matters with the underlying assumption being that it's what breeds contentment. I've watched it lead many people astray.

The fact that I didn't meet the same fate is something I should thank both God and my parents for. I was given a mind that naturally knew important from frivolous and a family that supported me in those things that let me enjoy life. Not every moment has been perfect, but on the whole I'd be foolish to even attempt construction of a complaint.

I suppose this is why I'm always behind people who are unhappy with something and make a decision to change that. Last night a friend of mine told me they'd dropped all of their classes because they didn't like what they were studying anymore and wanted to find something they'd enjoy. Apparently everyone else was shocked, but I gave my full support for the move. I think they're far better off for knowing what they don't want and making a change now than finishing the next few years to spend a life doing something they hate.

Captured At:1049

"Like a notion that I hope will never leave..."

Two hours after waking my mind has already taken a journey of several years with music as its guide.

Derek's away message attempted to quote Gary Allen's "Smoke Rings in the Dark." Much like "Grace is Gone" it's something I made the mistake of sending him during a period when he was drinking over one girl or another. Spring semester of freshman year, when Smoke Rings and I were first introduced, seems like a lifetime ago. I want to say it was Coffelt's friend who was shocked I didn't know the awesome song he was talking about. As happens with all tunes I take a liking to it ended up on numerous playlists, and ever since then it takes me back to a very difficult semester and the first summer I spent in North Carolina.

Making a drastic shift in genre the next thing that found its way through the speakers was "There for Me" as done by Sarah Brightman and Josh Groban. This one took me back to the first few weeks of last month when it managed to permanently wedge itself into one of the little creases in my brain. I think Liz would laugh if she saw that because it's the last thing in the world she'd expect me to have been listening to.

I went out the door with the chorus of "Iko Iko" on an internal loop. I know that I heard this done somewhere live in the not too distant past and I can't remember for the life of me where that was. Terrence Simien did it when he opened for DMB in West Palm Beach during the 2002 tour, but I know I heard it again between then and now. :: shrugs :: Guess it will stay a mystery. I also have yet to find an MP3 of some one's version that I like.

As I woke Milo up the station my radio had stopped on when I put him to bed sprang back to life. Billie Myers was about to direct her distant companion to go outside and "Kiss the Rain." I always did like that song for some reason. I don't know the last time I heard it before this morning, but I'm pretty sure it came out when I was in high school. :: laughs :: Yeah, ancient history.

In the CD player as I headed north was Train's "My Private Nation." It has May and June of 2004 written all over it. Those were pretty big months. My graduation, my first move of the summer, my trip home for Bryan's graduation, my last weeks of freedom, my first month in the "real world", and my angered fleeing from the west coast all fell in that time span. I remembered driving to campus with the volume blaring and flying on I-95 between here and the BeeLine. I noticed how much different the light at this hour is from how it was then and realized it's only a matter of time before the sun shifts again. Even though the window was down while I navigated US-1 I sang my heart out as visions of people and places meandered just behind my eyes.

I'm so thankful not only for moments like I experienced this morning, but also the ones that come to mind when I'm in them. In the end the good things really do win out. I may be showing my youth and naivety here, but my experiences to date fully support that belief.

I have no idea what today brings, but I start it with a smile for the people and phases my life has seen. I hope I'm always able to feel their influences and use those to guide my life in the right direction.

Captured At: 711

I make no exaggeration when I say that today my mind has been dozens of places or that each one of them could be the subject of their own post. It would appear I have more thoughts to write than time to put them in a visual format.

I dropped in to see Liz while I was down near there tonight. It's that visit that sent me to my mailbox when I got home. Inside was a tiny package wrapped in brown paper. It had "First Class" stamped below the mailing address and a sticker in the top corner telling me it had been sent on the 11th. Even in purple ink my mom's handwriting was easily identifiable. This poor little box has probably spent a week in the dark waiting to be discovered.

Under the paper was a pinkish colored box tied with a gold ribbon. Inside it held Valentine's candy. There was no note, but there didn't need to be. The message was obvious.

I felt much like I did when I recieved the card my grandmother sent last week. I know I'm loved, but sometimes it's nice to feel it. That's what I told her when I thanked her on Sunday. She said anytime I need to know to call her and she'll tell me. My response was that she had no idea what she'd just signed up for.

As I walked back from the mailboxes I thought about how much I miss my family. Being at home isn't without its quirks and difficulties, but the whole atmosphere is so different from the one I'm in now. Going away to school changed many things. That's when Mom and I started talking more, Dad and I started fighting less, and Bryan and I found common ground.

I miss walking through the door and having some one not only ask how my day was, but actually care what the answer is. I miss laughs ignited by Bryan doing impressions of Dad or the realization that we're all standing in the kitchen frosting the worst looking batch of cookies known to man. I miss the sound of Christmas carols through the house as we unpack boxes of decorations or clean before the arrival of more relatives. I miss Liz randomly waking up in the middle of the night and having conversations with me she'll never remember in the morning. I miss car rides to Florida, games of basketball in the driveway, and those nights Mom and Dad would let us stay up until we couldn't keep our eyes open.

Growing up I spent a lot of time alone. I always believed that was how I'd spend my life. I don't think I want that anymore.

Captured At:2240

"I was a madman in a pickup truck so many years ago..."

The human mind sits high on a list of things I don't believe I will ever understand. I've wondered about its workings in others and viewed my own as both a gift and a curse. In some respects I think mine was definitely playing with me last night.

Part of me was surprised that pulling in to pick up Gareth didn't bring about a sense of where home had once been. I drove past my old building without giving it a second look. It wasn't until he asked which window had been mine that I gave thought to the fact that I'd lived in the place for senior years one and two. There are a lot of ways a person's final year of college can go. I suppose I was lucky that I got to have it twice and experience it different ways.

I think what scared me the most was driving back from the restaurant. I've made that run up Babcock Street too many times to count, yet somehow I didn't know where I was. I shook my head for a second as it snapped back into place and I realized I hadn't passed a destination that was still several traffic lights away. I have no idea where my mind disappeared to in that moment.

Maybe my head was trying to make up for that lapse in functionality because twenty minutes later I was going on a five year and a half year tour of Melbourne. Jeeps and cars and the back of pickup trucks carried my companions and I in search of friends, food, beaches and parties. I saw people I haven't talked to in years and places I haven't thought of in just as long. I heard loud music through the radio with the voices of people I once knew adding to it.

I get these visions and it's like watching a movie of my life playing behind my eyes. Last night I smiled at them and sang louder as I flew down Stack with my window open. Today, even though irony has Celine Dion singing about driving all night while I post, there's a sadness behind the curve.

Going to Liz and TJ's is always an interesting experience. I move in and out of a door I used to have free access to. Each time I enter I catch a scent which takes me back to summer months that have a dream-like quality to them. Was that really my life? Impossible. I feel a million miles from the people and places characterizing that time. I'm so far from the girl who filled that second room before setting out on her own.

I took US-1 home. There are more efficient ways of getting back to my apartment, but I wanted to fly along the river and remember when that part of the world still felt new and exciting. I rounded the last few corners recalling what the sense that life can't get much better feels like.

I really wouldn't mind having that back.

Captured At: 745

Passeggio e scopro

Taking a mental inventory I would say it has been a day of discovery. In some respects the entire weekend has been made of them. I could talk about the Margaritaville pictures I'll upload and the guy hovering outside the ladies room that tried to pick up both Melissa and I, or the mistake of trying to go running under all the wrong conditions, or even how much I enjoy really spending time with my family, but I won't. Of the events that have taken place during a weekend away from the keys it's the ones I've spent alone today that are asking to be shared.

Despite the superiority we claim over every other living thing, human beings are not always the smartest creatures. This realization struck me somewhere between my reversal in Satellite Beach and the Eau Gallie park taunting me from some unidentifiable point in the distance.

Making a call I only second-guessed a few times, I opted to leave the camera with Milo tonight. At an hour before sunset the waves starting to retreat down the beach were turned a soft bluish color by the fading light. My mind was confusingly quiet as I walked. Thoughts to process, feelings to examine, memories to relive and questions to ponder seemed to have been carried away on the wind.

I watched my feet as they hit the sand and the shells being sent deeper into it with each step. That's when I found the first nautilus shell. It was a combination of orange and light brown that resembled the one on the Assembly Language book I'd been too quick to discard years ago. In addition to several other tiny treasures that made their way to my pocket I found a neon green shovel almost completely buried in the sand. I have no idea why I carried it away with me.

The fact that I couldn't recognize a thing around was lost on the journey north. That's why I can't say where it was, but as I approached the area it looked like there was something large down by the water that a bird was nervously trying to peck it. Though lifeless and on its side it was still obvious the large grey lump I'd spotted was a dolphin. I stopped walking.

They're supposed to be extraordinary animals, but I can't say I ever had an interest in the creatures at all. When I got to college I met a lot of people who did and generally they were not taken seriously. "Dolphinhugger", the term commonly used by the serious biology students at Florida Tech for their classmates whose life ambition is train the next Flipper or play at Sea World upon graduation, had quickly worked its way into my vernacular. Still, I stood there feeling sad that something with so much life in it by nature was left waiting to rot or be picked apart.

Death is not something I've come face to face with often in my life. I've lost pets and distant relatives, but no one I was ever close to. I have no idea what to expect when that actually happens. I remember being devastated when, at the tender age of seven, I found my beloved cockatiel, Peanut, laying on the bottom of her cage. It was awful. I can recall crying on Leah's couch and using the paint program on her parents' Mac to draw my departed friend. Two things immediately jump to mind. The first is that it was probably a very healthy expression of what I was feeling. The second is that I've been drawing pictures on computers for a long time.

Further up the beach I noticed a cluster of birds. They scattered once I got close enough to see the massacre that had taken place. There was no question the pile of empty shells I was looking at had belonged to a family of clams. A few inches away from the pile sat a shell that had yet to be shattered. I picked him up, walked toward the water, and threw him back into the ocean. The birds were not impressed.

I continued to walk as the sun faded until I realized I couldn't even make an educated guess as to where I was. I wanted to know how far I'd gotten, so I continued up the beach to ask some people I saw in the distance. Getting to them was not easy.

What the building was is beyond me, but the concrete patio and steps had clearly been destroyed in one of last year's storms. The waves were coming up nearly flush with its resting place in the sand which made getting to the other side a challenge. I felt like a little kid watching the waves and trying to time my sprint to safety. It would have been more successful if I hadn't tripped and smacked my hand into some of the rebar, but I made it across mostly dry. A friendly fisherman answered my inquiry and within a few minutes I was back to tackle the same challenge one more time.

Walking back to my car was a lot harder than walking away from it. I had no idea how far I had to go or how long it was going to take to get there. My body was still feeling a lot of pain from the failed run a few days before, my back was being angrier than usual, and the scar on my stomach was debating how much he wanted to throw into the mix. What had I been thinking when I decided that walk would be a good idea?

I started out determined to make it. Then, as I began stumbling more, I thought about who to call to find me and return me to my car. I decided that was a useless option because I couldn't provide my location and nobody I could have asked knows anything about the beaches up that way. It crossed my mind that I could fall over right there and no one would know. As I wearily charged forward I mentally flashed back to Whittaker showing us that clip from Lord of the Rings where the ogre is licking blood off the knife and telling us that's the kind of look we should have after staying up all night looking for software bugs. The only parallel I can draw between the two is that the ogre looked like hell and that's exactly how I felt.

It wasn't all tough going. I found myself singing randomly as I went, so it's just as well the beach was deserted. I also admired how neatly the waves rolled up the silky moonlight before carrying it safely to shore. If there was one thing people couldn't accuse me of at that moment it was lack of determination. Calling somebody was the easy way out and I wasn't about to take it. I could find my own way home.

Over two hours after I'd originally set out I finally did.

Struggle and difficulty, while not pleasant, serve an important function in life. Those are often the conditions we learn the most under. I didn't appreciate the distance I'd travelled when it was easy, but once things became hard I saw each one of those footsteps in a different way. Giving up wasn't an option because "home" was an unknown distance that didn't get any closer if I stopped moving. Those are all important things to remember.

So despite getting lost and being physically tired today gets written down as a good day. I got outside to enjoy my beautiful Florida, I made discoveries of every kind, and when all was said and done I did, in fact, find my way home.

Captured At:2113

"Adios. Aloha. ... I'm already back"

Nicknamed "The Time Warp", we never knew what it was about our room freshman year that made hours seem to vanish instantly. Sometimes whole days would escape and we'd stand in a future that seemed to have arrived too soon. Unlike those times, today's parting of the curtains that make up the chronology of my life seemed to reclaim moments I'd lost.

Venturing to campus is usually a little strange, but as I walked from the parking lot to the SUB Plaza it struck me as being the most natural thing in the world. My presence threw some people at first, but I was met everywhere with hugs and smiles. It was a nice feeling; almost enough to make me believe I'd done something good in the ten semesters I called Florida Tech home.

Some of the faces and places have changed, yet you could have convinced me that I'd never left. You could have said that the last year never happened and I would have agreed without hesitation. Every minute I spent felt right.

I miss a lot of things about college and there are others I wouldn't live through again for anything. My experiences in those years taught me. They changed me. As I re-examine events I find they continue to shape who I'm on the way to becoming. She'll always be a work in progress, but there's certainly potential.

Driving home from my Aunt and Uncle's house tonight slowly stacked everything back into place. I'm not the one frantically trying to wash the smell of whipped cream out of my hair. I have a job to return to tomorrow. I live alone. A month has passed since I last saw the full moon. I'm twenty-three going on who knows what with a whole world waiting.

A strange feeling skims across me as I write those things that the added sense of mystery from the K-PAX title theme in the background doesn't help. I always liked the music in that movie. That, and the use of light throughout. I also always finish watching it with a feeling of wonder and this strange desire to be looking up at the stars. Given how late it has gotten I think I’ll have to settle for the ones on my ceiling tonight.

Captured At:2315

Then sings my soul...

When I think of the sky this morning I'm filled with a sense of calm and peace. I was guided by a full moon casting soft light on clouds that appeared to be the same intensifying blue they floated through. I smiled both inside and out feeling the magic of the dawn coupled with the warmth of remembering beauty in an old friend.

Turning east revealed a quiet pink sky being absorbed by large, fluffy purple clouds. The orange of the sun began to break through as I neared the gate. I kept my window down after the badge check and found a carefree song to sing with as I melted into a moment far larger then the speck of dust that my vehicle was in comparison. I walked to my building with wide eyes and a smile so deep I could feel it in my heart.

If I were given one wish that I wasn't allowed to use on anyone except msyelf it would be to feel like that one hundred percent of the time. When I've said I want to be happy in life it's that exact feeling I'm talking about.

As I take a second to put this down I find myself experiencing it all again. I write now because I want to remember. I want to come back in weeks or months or years and know I've had what's among the best of what can be experienced in this world. That's how I know, even with my flaws and mistakes, that there is something good inside of me. I'd never be able to appreciate those times if there wasn't.

Captured At: 904

"And I find myself careening
Into places where I should not let me go..."

Once again I find it amazing how much difference a conscious decision makes. Last night my choice was to turn away from avoidance, which would have been easy, and get myself into conversations with people part of me never wanted to see or talk to again. In that act I realized I was no longer just saying I was past a crummy experience, I was actually showing it.

Another thing from last night that stands out is Melissa telling me I couldn't be a stereotype if I tried; that you have to have a group for that and I don't.

I'll admit I didn't know what to do with that. On once side I was happy because it told me I've done a good job of being my own person and not falling for what the world tries to give out. On the other I was painfully aware what a long and lonely road that is.

The idea that I'm different has been demonstrated time and again without my involvement. I see it in the way people deal with me, the things others say to and about me, and how I seem to frequently become the exception to the rule.

It is also clear when I look at what's around me. In the last few days I've heard many complaints on morning radio about people being sick of American Idol. My response to this, which has been said out loud in my car many times, is "So don't watch it." Why is that such a hard concept for people?

Then again, maybe I'm the one who doesn't get it. Maybe I should devote my time to cultivating a love of pop culture and all things shallow and material to further my acceptance by a world I don't even like.

That said, it should come as no surprise that I turned from the voices trying to get me to the talent show and found myself alone watching moonbeams on the water.

"God's yeller moon" had entranced me as it rose over campus. The only place I wanted to be was near the beach, so I set out for a park closer to home. The wooden picnic area there has a section which juts out over the sand and splits into two staircases, one facing up the beach and one down it.

Thick, patchy clouds filtered what the moon reflected. In that quality of light the ocean looks calmer and more fluid than usual. It was good to spend some time alone with my thoughts, and as I talked through them I found their focus shifting to a more acceptable place.

The truth is I feel lost right now in a number of ways and there isn't a person in the world I could explain the rhyme or reason for it to because I'm not sure I know myself. I try to fight, but all the trying in the world doesn't change the fact that my subconscious mind is one thing I cannot control.

Captured At: 725

I've decided I'm no longer meeting people out when we're supposed to go somewhere. Every time I end up with bad directions and broken contact with who I'm trying to find. It's a little frustrating.

When I got on the Disney grounds this morning there was something very striking about the Swan & Dolphin set against a grey sky. The last I'd seen it was on a clear night, and it seemed only appropriate that the weather and a shift in my mood coincided once again. I felt as clouded as the atmosphere above me. Whether that was due to staying up too late the night before or the persistent pain in my back I can't be sure, but I know I was noticeably spaced.

Everyone was staying at the Pop Century. Wandering around there lost flashed me back to some of the later Disney trips my family had taken. That whole period of my life seems so far away. Everything has changed. Everything.

Well, maybe not everything. As always the challenge at the Mad Hatter's Tea Party was to spin as fast as possible. I had Tyler, Christopher and Emma with me and our cup was flying. It went so well that when I stood up after the ride was over I had to catch my balance to make sure I didn't fall out of it. I could see Elizabeth on the side of the fence pointing, laughing, and trying to get Uncle Tom to pull out the camera. One of these days I'm going to go back and get one of those "I'm so dizzy I fell out of the Disney Teacup" pictures.

Spending a day riding rollercoasters probably hasn't done wonderful things for my back. It actually hurts quite a bit right now, but I suppose "the pleasure was worth all the pain." I stood in some of those lines remembering how triumphant I felt when I'd finally beaten my fear of the ride ahead. It's silly really because my five and six year old cousins are fearless. They laugh their way through things I'd never give consideration to doing at their age.

Emma stands out to me today. I watched her five year old energy and excitement all through that park. I watched her expressions as we stood in lines and she decided who was going to take her on the rides. She'd taken a liking to TJ, but somehow after she decided to go on one with me because she hadn't yet I acquired a new best friend.

One moment is very strongly imprinted. It was half way into Space Mountain looking at the panels with the stars that seem to move as you walk past them. I gazed deeply into the window as I stood holding the hand of a small girl and the only thing that came to me were the words, "In a thousand other lifetimes..."

I watched Emmie as she played in line, climbing on the railings and bumping into the people ahead of us when she wasn't paying attention. I picked her up and bounced her around in front of the cameras listening to her little giggle the whole time. I wondered what people thought when they looked at a version of me no greater in years than her. I wondered what some of the people I knew had been like when they were that small. Between my eyes and my lips I could tell a very soft, caring expression rested on my face, but everything made me sad for one reason or another.

Kids have a funny way of knowing things. On the bus back she and I exchanged a few interesting glances and I wondered what she possibly could have been thinking. Though I have no idea how she arrived at the conclusion, shortly after she announced that I was her favorite cousin.

Walking back to the car I remembered how much better the vacations were once we'd reached an age where we could wander the parks freely at night. Something about Disney in the evening always struck me in a way the day couldn't touch. I'd like to say I reconnected, but nothing got deep enough. I feel very drawn into myself right now and nothing can seem to shake it.

Still, I made a new friend today. Two, actually, if you count the latest member of a tradition that started back when I was as old as Emma is now.

I guess I was wrong. Most things have changed, but some never will.

Captured At:2045

"Do you ever get as low as 100%? I thought you ran in the 3 figures all the time."

At the moment I'm sort of shaking my head wondering how this whole life thing works. As I drove around in the rain this morning my mind went back to a number of vivid memories involving rain. I could see the front door of our house in New York open on a spring weekend as the smell of muffins creeped out of the kitchen. I could see the back yard through a screened window of my bedroom. I remembered how much it poured the day my parents moved me into my first college dorm room and the afternoon I got caught outside in the Botanical Gardens. I thought about times I'd listened to the sky's music from beds, couches, or chairs on a screened porch. I ran my fingers through partially soaked hair and laughed at how different it felt when I'd been rained on.

Though I've only just now remembered it's from "Identity", the Pat McGee lyric "Like the rain will wash the dirt away, so will it ease your pain" kept looping through my mind.

I came home and did a search through my entries for that lyric. It brought me to April 13, 2004. As I read through that I could see the day I described in it and added another memory to the list. Given how it echoed some of what I've been feeling over the last two days this sent me searching for anything else I could find from the 13th.

A friend's chat log revealed the quote above. Me? Always above 100%? I'm sorry, but I just don't see it. I'm very much not 100% right now and certainly wasn't at the time it was made. Surely I must have fooled him somehow.

Another thing that makes me laugh is seeing I'm not the only one who is repeating myself from April 13, 2004. Back then I was told, "Life is ultimately still for living, rain or shine". Today the person who said it closed an unexpected morning post with that same idea.

In my world, where everything feels very much up in the air at the moment, it's nice to know there's some consistency floating among the mess even if I don't always realize it.

Captured At:1222

As I enjoyed time outside walking between buildings today I found my mind dancing off into a completely new group of thoughts. It was nice to spend a few mental cycles on something different.

I think what started it was the usual looking at myself. I was examining who I am and the ways I approach life. Yet again I found myself saying that I really don't belong here. That's not to say I have any idea where else I should be, but when I think about the world I live in it's clear I just don't fit.

That's where the first jump was made. I wondered why it is I believe, think, and act as I do. How did I learn these things? Where did the lessons come from?

Then I took an even bigger leap. When Liz said the other day that she's sure her kids will be everything she hates I remember thinking to myself that who a child becomes is not without influence from their parents and they can be guided to some extent. But how do you do that? If some one made the mistake of giving me a child, how would I teach them the things I value and believe to be right when I have no idea how I got the message in the first place?

It's an interesting question that I don't have an answer to. Maybe I'll ask my parents about that when I go home this weekend. I know they're proud and happy with the way their kids turned out, but I'm curious to know how they decided the best way to tackle these sorts of things. It's probably just as well that I'd never planned on children because I wouldn't have a clue about where to start. I screw things up enough for me as it is.

Captured At:1916