Sweat and red skin

Three hours of sleep last night. But I did have three dreams--two of which had sequences I bade to memory. One I relate as my roommate continues to failingly try hiding laughter of something I won't turn my head to see what is--

I suppose I fell asleep around 1am. Maybe a little earlier, maybe a little later. I was having a dream about cars--driving around at night, in the dark. I think I was holding on to the bumper of a speeding car, or maybe I was driving and someone else was desperately holding on for survival, when I thought, "Hm, this dream sucks. I'm gonna go to Elon's house."

It was kind of like flying, a little more like teleporting, but I was in front of a mirrored version of Elon's house, the hue of the setting the same dark cast as earlier in the dream. As I opened the door, I decided I want to go to Crono's house (Chrono Trigger), but when my hand touched the door handle everything slowly began becoming white, and air pressure began increasing. The image was fuzzy.

I began wondering, "Is this it?" It felt real and visceral, especially the pressure on my head. I was aware that I more likely was still in bed in DeKalb, but I wondered if this was the chance, finally, where if I opened my eyes, the image would become clear as day and I'd be master of my own world--dream world or otherwise. Contemplating against the chance that, if indeed I did leave reality, perhaps a world I wouldn't be in control of might await, and it was a fear, but I risked it.

I opened my eyes.

The white, and the ringing in my ears from the heavy pressure slowly died off and I saw my roommate typing away. I looked at his alarm clock (mine is 5 minutes fast): 1:35am.

I skipped Auditory Physics today. Tried getting some middle-day sleep--something I haven't been able to do outside of rare vacation instances in the last six years. Failed. Still exhausted, eyes still red, skin still red, and I keep having hot flashes as if this virus/flu/cold isn't yet completely devestated (which it is not according to the cough I still have--though I am still coughing much less than roommate).

But I did do my laundry. I didn't draft an English essay--figure I'll try in the half hour I'll have before class tomorrow. Rough draft for peer editing; there are less than a half dozen kids in the class I trust might have any constructive insight I wouldn't see from re-reading my paper just once (where I'll be able to help someone change a C paper into a B paper if I so desire--better said, if the girl is pretty). COMS100 test on Friday; might study Thursday evening a little bit. But Friday I'll more likely be fully concerned on my escape.

They're advertising the Nausicaa DVD, even though Disney apparently skimped, as they always do, on extras and transfer quality (since it's foreign). But it's good enough that general audiences in the States will finally have a legal opportunity to pay for a copy of probably my very favorite animated film (even if the manga is ten times better). MacGyver is good, I hope Season 2 DVD set is released before the end of the summer (unless they decide to do some special features this time--then by the end of Autumn).

Hoping, again, for more than 4 hours of sleep--I wish me luck.

Red glare

In an hour and fifteen minutes, I will have been blogging for two full years.

Hopefully, I will also be asleep--with most of my Philosophy reading done. Because, you see, insomnia has me now feeling like I might lay down in a loud room for fifteen minutes and fall asleep--something I've never been able before.

My left eye has a welt, and looks scarred. It's sad how disfigured I am turning after this onset of illness--an illness that had me turning in by 11pm last night, though I only got about 3 hours of sleep (somehow... )

But, how awful things have been going, it would be unavoidably certaining I lose my mind if things don't begin getting better. Now. As in, I get at least 5 hours of sleep tonight, and I wake up with enough time to finish my Philosophy homework /and/ with able to get to class on time.

It reeks of disease in here. Hopefully after I get laundry done tomorrow (I had planned, since Friday, I'd take care of it tonight, but my eyes, see, they burn) that will dissipate.

I am exceedingly tired.

ill

A nasty cough, annoying allergies, and whatever it is that the brain dictates determines soreness/pain: I woke up miserably afflicted by disease. I still can't say if it was a flu or just a really bad sore throat, but I could hardly find the strength to move until I finally gave in and took 2 tylenol tablets at 6.

I left my room twice today, and that's it. And now, slowly, my headache and bone ache seem to slowly be returnin... I have one more dose of tylenol. Needless to say, then, I didn't make it to the final showing of "The Misanthrope" and Frigo has yet to say anything about it so his 15% chance of making it ended up witnessing the more probable.

Playing Demise while listening to King's Field IV music is excellent, even though Demise is one of those crazy games like Wizardry that literally take dozens of hours to get, pretty much, anywhere. What I've this weekend is Auditory Physics homework and an essay to roughly draft, so it was a "good" weekend to find myself completely incapacitated one of the days.

If I had come down with this instead next weekend, oh, there would have been hell to pay--7 days from right now I should be on my way back from hearing Final Fantasy music in a symphony concert. Probably listening to "Get There," which I anticipate will arrive at home by Friday (Europeans started getting their copies yesterday).

I sincerely hope today was the worst of it...

yeah, it's so February.

Gunshot!

Tartuffe wasn't as good as The Misanthrope--though the title character was played admiringly. Best explanation is the directors are in different leagues--Tartuffe's was my Intro to Theatre professor.

Otherwise, roommate lost his voice and has been coughing weakly since this afternoon, and my throat is becoming somewhat sore--seems, for once, I've afflicted to the same disease as the roommate on the same day, though I still expect I shall be done with it sooner than he. My immune system took some hits over the week, mostly with not getting sleep.

45/50 on my COMS100 speech. Got everything done that I wanted to today--finished and got the average ending in Cave Story; will be trying to put off the secret dungeon until next week so I don't overdose. I payed $20 for Demise 1.03... one of the more addicting indie computer games out there. Hopefully, with my budget, the last purchase I'll be making until the Nausicaa DVD comes out.

Ah, glory of weekend...

Let's follow him

This morning I was finally reminded of the sordid malice that so entrapped me weekly last year back in trash hall. A string of the lowest luck took a toll on my poor sanity, and my smile must have looked brilliantly sadistic.

First, well, I got about 2 hours of sleep. Seeing how I took some Benedril for the first time this month before attempting sleep routine (which is supposed to make one drowsy), it didn't make much sense. The showers, of course, were cold by the time I got to them 15 minutes later than I planned. One happy note: I did finish the Philosophy homework that I left for myself, though to the background noises of Roommate+Girlfriend at, that's right, 8:30 in the morning. But, of course, I rushed out of my room, checked my coat pockets for my gloves, and realized one of them was missing.

I had made it to the staircase by the time I checked my pants pocket for my keys--and that's where it really added up. I left my fucking keys in my room, and I didn't know if my other glove (one of a pair I got for Christmas) had fallen out after I left my room or not. Roommate left with girlfriend about five minutes before me, of course. So I began walking to Intro Stats recitation about 10 minutes late.

When a bus stopped a few steps ahead of me about a third of the way to my destination, I thought, "ah, finally, a little luck!" I hurried my steps and tried the door and the bus started driving off. The bus was full, but not overly full--I could've gotten on if the bastard driver didn't lock the door on me. That's when my smile appeared--I saluted the bus and flicked everyone off.

And then, crossing the street I should've been rushing down via bus, a car very nearly turned right into me.

Bad luck calmed down some after that... though my exhaustion from lack of sleep took its due toll on me in Philosophy. I had a good lunch, but came back to my residence tower knowing I was going to be charged $20 to get back into my room. I slept instead of studying for my Auditory Physics exam--though some questions might be weighed a little differently, it looked like I got a 68% on that. The only actual saving grace of the entire day (and even this was with more flaws than should have been) was seeing The Misanthrope a second time.

Two cell phones went off during the performance tonight. The group of kids to my left kept checking their LCD-lit watches. It was disgusting how few people appeared to be honestly enjoying the performance as art more than mere entertainment--how few people understood the dialogue as genius instead of general comedy. But, on stage, the performance was exceptional. The first act a little less than Friday, but the ending done a little better. There is a 15% chance I'll be seeing it again (though probably in even worse seats) with Frigo on Saturday--the last performance.

The ending is so exceptionally delivered--the last scene introduces nearly every character named in the play in some way and finishes everyone's stories perfectly. Look for the text and read it if there's no chance you can make it to DeKalb on Saturday--it's the one thing I've seen that stars a character I think truly captures the essence of the character I've been trying to make for myself all these years, the character people slowly began seeing me as at the end of Senior year--the self I am slowly rebuilding in my new home.

Tomorrow, academically, should be a breeze compared to the last two days--especially if I get more than 2 hours of sleep.

Suitcase Monsters

There's an awesome freeware platformer I discovered thanks to Kotaku this afternoon--awesome enough that I still haven't gotten around to starting my Philosophy summaries, and it's about time I turn in for the night considering how tired I feel right now and that I have my Auditory Physics test tomorrow afternoon (and would /also/ like to be awake for "The Misanthrope" the second time--otherwise I won't know whether to try for the third time or not).

But my COMS100 speech, at least based on self-impressions, went extraordinarily well. My voice did not once falter, I only circled one point (using notecards--I couldn't read a script), and I felt like I grounded myself pretty well. It was a good feeling to get it over with--paraphrasing might actually be a little more difficult, seeing how it is harder to prepare for, Friday morning.

As long as the Auditory Physics test doesn't go tremendously awful, I think I might be highly spirited for the rest of the week after that. There will be an essay to finalize and an outline to draft after the play, but the big things--what have been sticking out on my calender--will be over and done with. Smooth sailing to February 19th.

I had an interesting dream this morning--I was doing something with Frigo. Maybe coming up with a new idea for a comic. Anyways, first we were at his house, which was much, much different, though I can't really remember how so. But then we went to my house and he was in it for the first time (which is weird since that's not true and this wasn't a retrospective dream) and he stormed right into my brother's room and turned on a Sega Genesis.

Most detail, it seems, has already faded, but somehow my house became a warehouse store kind of like a run-down Ikea or Service Merchandise. Frigo and I started walking down an isle and a lamp flies past and Frigo says, "It should be glad I invented the wheel for it,"

and, as replying for the wheel-lamp, I say, "Curious!" and we both erupt with laughter.

yeah, it was pretty weird now that I think about it again...

gwarline.doc

Roommate returned tonight--luckily, I got my preperation for my speech tomorrow morning finished up before he came in. Apparently his girlfriend's ex-boyfriend is staying here over the weekend--on the condition I can let any of my own kin stay in the future. The more sociopathic, the better.

Got my ticket to see "The Misanthrope" a second time. Laughingly crafted a solid solution to the question we were exploring in PHIL101 . Almost fell asleep if not for the occasional unavoidable annoying of the professor's voice in Auditory Physics.

Will leave that English summary to finish up in the half hour I'll have between COMS100 and English tomorrow. Practiced my speech about half a dozen times with notecards over the last 8 hours, so I'm hopeful the possibility of embarrasingly failing is low. 11 notecards... they made sense to me over the course of the day. It's not the end of the world if I fail, though--I /was/ undeniably an antisocial for my first 16 years on this Earth.

My urge to write and create has been rising, but I was damned tired today, and now the roommate is back so quiet will be again harder to find. But I had the best sleep I've had this semester two nights ago, and I had the best exploration of thought I've had last night. Last night was, "What if I end up a poet/indie-film maker/comic writer/artist surviving by mailing off thirty random things hoping for about $500 a month from magazines?" Conclusion had me bump into a fan on the way back (on foot) from the grocery store. That wouldn't be so bad...

Come to the grace of heaven's eternal fantasy.

Midnight Down

Laundry done on a Monday night--how glorious. How unglorious, though, the unforgivable of completely placing out of mind my English and Physics homework this weekend. Now I get to rightly suffer for my academic aloofness. That, and I still haven't gotten to see the first page of comic #2.

And apparently my Grandma's car and computer broke, and my uncle quit his job, and a gas main ruptured this morning near my house (but mom said no explosions). So it isn't just my world that has been suffering this last week--it appears my entire extended family is treated with the worst of luck this month.

This 11 days until the Final Fantasy concert couldn't go by quickly enough--the only thing between now and then that might happen that /might/ consider I hope time to run more leisurely again would be on the off chance I mysteriously fall in love with a stranger-girl seeing "The Misanthrope" again and begin an unquestionably beautiful romance. But those odds are likely near the same as a comet (not just a meteor) striking Earth full-force in Japan--and then Norway. And, somehow, a shard delayedly strikes Chicago after I have a chance to despair in knowing Ragnar Tornquist and the country that makes me RPGs have been murdered by outer space.

So key points between now and then: Wednesday morning I perform my first COMS100 speech--I don't much look forward to it, seeing as how I didn't even outline it until this evening, which gives me only tomorrow (when my roommate whom has been absent since Sunday afternoon will likely reappear in the middle of practicing) to work with perfecting notecards and delivery. Thursday is my first Auditory Physics test--if there's more math than theory, I'm fucked. If there's more theory than math, I hope the curve is friendly. Thursday night I will see "The Misanthrope" alone again (I decided this evening it will be worth the $7). Friday morning I have an outline and summary to write (actually the summary was due today) for English. Friday night I will see if "Tartuffe" stands up in any way to its precursary performance. Saturday night I might see "The Misanthrope" for a third time--but maybe not, especially if all the good tickets are sold out by Friday. Sunday evening is the Creative Writing workshop. And the next episode of 24 next Monday will assuredly be action-awesome.

Thus my week--not too thrilling, if it weren't February it would be cake. But since it is February, chances are likelier a number of those things will explode in my face--especially those things which have the least probability of exploding in general.

I'd much like to go on vacation to Seattle and read the novels in me "reading/will read soon" list in a Pacific-viewing cafe right now.

A shame you were an honest man

Hoping the argument has wound to its boiling point--wherein, we shall exchange final blows face to face and, hopefully, from that see eye-to-eye. The bad part is it'll be another two weeks before I'm back in town, but it'll be more likely we'll all be calm enough to contend rationally by then.

The day through 6pm was largely uninteresting. However, I went to a crreative writing workshop at 6:30 (it actually started at 6, but luckily did meet), and therein I discovered discourse in relation to writing like nothing I could find at DHS. The best criticism I recieved was from Hurtig, but he was many times considering 20 other students' pieces while looking at mine. This evening the coordinator basically summed up the piece I brought exactly as I envisioned--she understood its strengths and its faults, and respected the language as a contemporary able to consider what it actually was.

After getting back from that, I went to the tower Superbowl party--which happened to be just after half-time. Less-important socialization there, but human contact... I could have done worse.

Knowing I have nearby, now, a forum that can offer honest constructive criticism, I am more desired to write new material. This week I have to deliver a speech in my COMS100 course, but have little pressing work beyond. I am planning on buying a ticket tomorrow afternoon to see "The Misanthrope" again this Thursday--it was an outstanding play.

Things are going about as expected this February: for every good, there has yet been an equal or greater bad. Right now, I am tolerating the balance.

If you are near to the dark

Sadly, I am letting another shortsighted comment explode into an argument that might erase another friendship. But, especially seeing a character almost trait-for-trait the same as my own on stage last night, I realize I am a man that does things this way and will refuse to budge just to make everything all better.

See, I made a nameless attack against people who end blog entries with "I love " and it struck a chord with a good friend. Now we have both replied, on Xanga, with long-winded rants. I won't yet detail the stylistic differences between our responses, but it's the innate differences between us: how I was able to stand firm in my adoration for Jane through junior year and mess with (psychologically) the women who tried winning me while he accepted an invitation over the summer.

It is an interesting what-if scenario had a women approached me immediately following my rejection--but, in retrospect, and in the past probably, I contend I wasn't desperate enough to allow anything below my enormously high standards.

Writing honestly and publicly is extremely dangerous: since everyone can see it, and since many times words to the less literate (this is egoistic, but drawn from how I have always felt literarily superior to, at least, my peers) are misinterpreted, rifts are made that wouldn't have appeared had my mind been less visible.

And I have yet to find a positive aspect that counters that fairly. But I hypothesize that, eventually, respect for my honesty will outweigh contempt drawn from my honesty. Without ruining the play (since that was the core of the first scene), this is a pretty blind hope.

I've done a tremendous amount of writing tonight... apparently a gaming club meets right about now in the building opposite mine, but I feel drained right now. Drained and, honestly, a little worried--

to the point that civil discourse might now appear impossible. Which would be a tremendous blow against the image I've held of the friend that now teeters on the brink, because I felt I only had one contemporary in my graduating class, and I thought it was this friend. But if this matter can't be solved civilly (that is, if personal attacks are made), it means I am even more alone in my views of this world than I previously thought.

Though loneliness alone (hmm...) doesn't much phase me, I consider that this is but /early/ February. This is the month I need the few people I've trusted share a world view similar to my own to give /me/ the advice--what I need least is finding out they were so many steps below my viewpoint, as the one now threatens to possibly tear at me in my weakest month.

I will live through this, if I am not tragically/freakishly murdered, but I fear this will largely draw me away from focusing on course work.

The Misanthope

NETWORK CONNECTIONS are admonishingly slow right now. In fact, the images in this wordpad-ish form have just now, as I wrote now, finished loading. And without reason, without provocation--things were wonky this morning, but then fine this afternoon, and now again they are unreasonable.

So showing off Ping Pong in ENGL104 didn't work out this morning. That was as bad as the day got, though, and chances are bright that I do, indeed, have another chance to try again Monday. The speaker system wasn't working--so, even if speakers still aren't working on Monday, I think I might just try dubbing the speaking myself. I had 10 minutes to troubleshoot the speakers in class today, and the professor called an "expert" in to help who figured everything I figured out by moving electronics around longer than the three minutes I took to decide it was the speaker system that was the problem. A kid came up when the professor and I were still struggling to try to pull things together when class ended and offered wisdom regarding Windows Media Player--though with good intentions, it was slightly dismaying (probably for both of us) how I, in fact, knew what I was doing. But I suppose it was a nice gesture.

But the amazing thing happened much later. And, actually, I was somewhat thinking of skipping it and just sleeping my evening away. I saw, "The Misanthrope," in the O'Connel Theatre at 7:30 and was blown away with the performace: acting, material, stage design; everything was excellent. The plot deals with an eccentric man who vows never again to tolerate anything his heart cannot tolerate--to tell off even rich and powerful court folk who could, this play was written somewhere around 300 years ago, have him killed through unfair trial. The man is also desperately in love with a largely vain girl he knows is flawed, when a virtuous girl, whom he respects, admires him.

In a way, it is a hauntingly accurate representation of what my past has felt like and what my future likely promises to be. Eclecticly profound, the protagonist disowns himself from general society early in the play and uses that throughout as a core theme through the end. Also haunting, though not necessarily accurate, was the loveliness of the secondary female--half the scenes she appeared in she stood to the side for much of, and it was then her performance was absolutely astonishing. She, as an actress, reacted just as the character (in my mind) should have been reacting without saying a word. Without, even, moving her legs--through limited expression of her hands and arms and through a full vocabulary of facial expression, she portrayed grace, despair, knowing, love, and everything inbetween. I will likely be depressed because this girl is a senior here--chances are likely she won't be performing at NIU next year. Hopefully, though, she'll be performing somewhere bigger and more (or less if, say, Hollywood) real.

Then I came back and watched the first episode of Fraggle Rock.

Tonight was grand. Solitary, but grand.

Where we're going we don't need roads

I listened to some Do As Infinity for the first time since probably October this morning. Strangely enough, it was then I was hit with my latest short-film idea--so long as I can teach myself spot-welding over Spring Break, I'll make a metal dragon-like puppet-creature and write a story about it to film over the summer.

Day not as bad as the last few... but still nothing exceptional. Had roommate's new big screen TV not ended up being a piece of junk (my guess is it's actually something his parents found stored in a basement corner) in that the picture distorts if more than half the screen is really dark/black. Thus, quite a few scenes in Back to the Future didn't play right when I watched it this evening. Had the picture quality been flawless, I might think there was something exceptional, but, alas, t'is not the case.

Friday came early enough, thankfully. Highlight of tomorrow should be presenting one or two scenes from Ping Pong in my English class. I also get to take notes on the first batch of speeches in COMS100, and get to turn in the STAT208 homework I finished after Auditory Physics.

And it's a good thing I thought about Auditory Physics or I would have forgotten to get that homework done again and missed another 10 or 15 points...

Been thinking of a way I might start taking over a part of this campus for myself... every conclusion leads that I can only continue observing for the rest of this semester, and won't be able to start actively making impact until the next. Much as it was in highschool.

As much as it has increasingly feels like I post this but for a silent evening wind since moving from Xanga, I keep it up... sometimes lost as to why I write paragraphs with language that doesn't need to be half as descriptive for myself.

Yes, that was a small cry for comments I likely won't start recieving for another few years...

Continuing the trend

CONTINUING EVIDENCE that this is indeed February, boards.dragonfort.net faced its first case of anonymous spamming tonight--all evidence points towards the drummer from Secrets of Stylish Women, a band I saw play at The House last October (or maybe November). On a slightly different note, opened but minimized, is half a philosophy paper. If I buckle down, I might finish it by 1am, but, writing the night before it is due, it will not be up to the quality I could have crafted if I hadn't been a procrastinating fool.

So I lose myself looking into an infinity, a dark void that has crept near my side since 2001. In my weakness, I stare into it, caught amiss and senseless, and lose usually seconds, sometimes minutes, and, once, hours in its nothingness.

"Say, Inu-yasha--wanna go shopping with me?" says Kagome on Adult Swim.

The characters are meaningless, but, goddamn, now instead of the void, I see a memory--the gift shops I idled in with Jane in Toronto. The memory is a misery, but is a warm creature--a breathing entity in the smell that has come back to me with sight and touch. The only sound I recall all were came from Jane or whatever she toyed with--but all of it is clear in memory right now. Vivid. It is March, 2003 again...

I suppose so long as I don't lose my memory, I will never find myself a pawn in any relationship with any woman--for I will still contend that perhaps fate saw me too soon and imbedded a seed that is yet to sprout in Jane's heart. Likely not, but what the thought does is retain me--thinking it, any woman I might relationship with I will know I still love another, and thusly I will retain every sense of my own will until, if unknown-she accepts my philosophy, fresher feelings overtake cherished memory.

I post this publicly--anyone can read it. Jane might find it. Likelier, a party like Laura or Sheila will find it and might think, "wow, he's still stuck in the past." Likelier still, one of the namelier members of trash hall might find it and think, perhaps, "damned woman still stealing his thoughts even now." Yet I still post this publicly, defiant of all possible retribution, defiant of this moment, in the future as it will, of past eventually following my success and begging a question.

This is what it means to be comfortable with oneself.

This is what it means to love truth.

Yup, it's definately February

About an hour and a half ago, I decided I want to watch episode 3 of MacGyver while I had my ramen-dinner. When pulling my ps2 controller back far enough so I could control it from where I was set to sit, my ps2 fell over with the disc running--it scratched the thing on the inner ring. My ps2 no longer recognizes it as a DVD-video--though it fortunately still runs in my computer, this really sucks.

True, my ps2 might have altogether stopped working, but what this means is I'll never be able to watch the first four episodes of MacGuyver with my ps2, which I still plan on serving as my primary DVD player until I pick up a next-gen console. This is entirely depressing... of all things, disc 1 of MacGyver season 1, which I picked up less than 5 days ago. True, had Ping Pong been damaged it would have been worse, but...

what a way to start off the month, eh?

Unfocused, I reinstalled UT2k4 instead of writing a 3-page Philosophy paper due Thursday. Which, alright I have tomorrow night, but now I will /have/ to draft it the night before it's due. I was almost desperately trying to update my paper-writing tactics last semester to force myself towards drafting earlier than the night before a due-date. Academic papers benefit from revision.

Last night was enlightening, and I ordered boa's new album, "Get There," though it's being shipped to Deerfield which means the earliest I'll see it is February 18th. Hopefully my copy of Broken Saints (4-disc dvd set) will be waiting for me, too, because that looked promising enough to spend $40 on a copy of.

So there are those to look forward to along with the Final Fantasy concert, but between now and then I know I need to write that Philosophy paper, I need to deliver my first speech for COMS100 a week from tomorrow, and I will likely need to write a paper for ENGL104. Two more full weeks of classes before my next point of salvation... things are off to a bad start.

In the future, I hope to be able to just take the entire month of February off from whatever job I have and just reflect. If I'm a low-budget indie-film writer/director/collaborator/producer/editer, that might be a likely future... I really hope so.

I had a meaningful discussion last night reminiscing on how good last year was. And how insignificant everyone around me right now seems--how pathetic society's common view of love is. How disgusting the "rules of dating" are, and how unfortunate, in a romantic sense, life happens to be for the proud few who don't believe in them.

Which made sense, then, why I saw a girl that looked very much like Jane, and heard a voice and a laugh of a girl that sounded very much like Jane.

I hope losing the playability of 1/6th of MacGyver season 1 is as bad as February gets... I fear, with good reason, that this is but the first day until mid-March, and my short reprieve will feel far too short indeed.