It's 3 AM the morning after Christmas and I know I should be asleep but I can't. I just keep thinking.

There's so much to think about. There's a new year and a new semester and I have the chance to change my life. I have the need to change my life. I don't even know what it is, but I have this need to explode across somewhere, that I've been bottled up and there's so much potential and energy and ideas that I can't keep it in anymore. I want to dedicate myself. I want to stop procrastinating and sabotaging myself. I want to be a daytime person. I want to write, and often. I want to listen to more music, and make more music, that which I haven't done in years. I want to have life on my own terms and vivaciously; to strike out with the force of mind and will to make a mark on the great big world that I can tell my grandchildren about. And I want grandchildren.

That's another thing when I'm home is I notice more and more how my parents would make such excellent grandparents. I love them so, and I love my brothers, and as we all get older the dynamic changes and I see our roles changing. Patrick will be 17 in February, which absolutely amazes me. I found a picture of him and me in his baby cradle. I had snuck in there to join him and he just has this look of utter fascination towards me and I'm giggling. I am regularly amazed by how well our parents raised us. My dad once said before I was born that they talked about it and agreed: "yes—let's have some kids, and raise them too." That's very important I think. You raise them. I can't imagine the sacrifices they've made for us. They're both such incredible people I wonder what they would've been without us. But they did have us, and the world is better for it. I keep thinking about if I want kids, and I do, but I can't make that commitment yet and I don't know if I can. I don't know if I could be as good as them. And part of that is because I couldn't raise them the same.

That's what really frightens me about this last election, what really truly chills me. I don't think I want to raise children in this country. It's scary. The system is scary. The people in American society are scary, and I'm not talking about things my mom is afraid of like murderers or child molesters but just people on the street. Average people who would screw you over in a heartbeat if they think it'll make their lives just a bit better. To make some money, or just to get their way. There's so many dumb laws and nobody remembers the law of grand Karma. If everyone treats everybody like shit, then everything goes to shit. I want real morality and that's a societal problem not a presidential one. It doesn't matter one fucking bit what the president thinks of unborn babies. He's demostrated in a disturbing variety of ways that he's willing to kill actual, breathing human beings. But that alone isn't frightening. We've had plenty of twisted politicians in the past. But usually democracy recovers and rights itself. To believe that the people would willingly re-elect representatives like the Bush administration is the most bloodcurdling thought for American democracy since... well, ever. That's why there are so many Americans in denial. The other half I can't speak for since I really can't understand them. I know them though, some are even my relatives. All I can say is faith is no excuse for ignorance right or left. And fear, fear of terrorism, is no excuse for blind faith.

I don't condemn Islamic terrorists. I don't. They're a group of people with problems, and they're trying to get rid of those problems any way they can. It's a primitive, reactionary and violent way but it's the only way many can see. It seems to be America's fault on a meta-level, and also just the inevitable clash of civilizations. Now the American people might be personally, tragically responsible for the actions of their government and the decadence of their culture. Democracy is uniquely accountable in that way. Re-electing Bush was a big ol' fuck you to the arab world and all it's legitimate concerns and they won't take kindly to that. It says so in frickin' Genesis. In choosing Bush, America chose fear. And that, more than anything a terrorist could do, will break this country.

But mostly I try to keep my mind off things like that.

I try to think of new ways to amuse myself on the internet. Or new things to say to people. I try to think of new things to create, when I'm feeling ambitious. I try to write in my journal so I don't forget my life. I try to remember that I'm still alive. I hang out with people and we're alive together. I dream sometimes of the way things could be. My life is small, and so is yours buddy. I'd like to be a great writer or inventor or musician, but I am humble. I don't expect to be. I hope to live and live well. That's the best any of us can ever hope for.


Civil War


Christmas Break...
not much...

Let me start by affirming that "vacation" is a subjective term.

Home is what I expected. There are still the same dumb arguments, the same chores, the same problems. It's tiring just to be here; I don't feel like doing anything. It's quite sad actually. You'll notice this blog-thing has a new look, as that was one of the first things I did. And one of the only things.

I gots a new blog too. A LiveJournal so I can read Jenna's. Nothing there yet, haven't tried to make it pretty. That should take up some time. Gah! Why am I looking for things to take up time, when at school there's never enough time to do the things I want and now I have a whole month to do them and I can't think of anything. This 'vacation' is silly.

Peace out, readers.


End of Semester Blues

Feelings = mixed.

Glad to be out of school for a month. Sad I didn't pass more classes. Glad I passed some. Sad I won't have Jenna around.

I'm wearing her DARE shirt right now. Yeah.

That reminds me, the party last night—awesome/incredible. Lots of fun had by all. Lots of booze had by all. A whole case worth I think, plus the 2 bottles champagne, plus some hard stuff pilfered from absentee roommates. I kinda overdid my Martha Stewart-esque party preparations, but as I've said before good parties don't throw themselves dammit. And it was a good one. Most good parties (if they're <12 people) always end up at Denny's. Mine did. Three in the morning I stroll in with 6 other people, 4 of us pretty drunk, 1 of whom starts talking crazy spanish to the mexican waiter. God bless you Hunter wherever you are. I had a Superbird; Jenna had little club sandwiches. Now it shall be known for all future generations.

Course after coming back it was about 3 or 4, and me and the misses were too tired to even attempt something. She woke up round 9 and had to leave after 10, so I made some buttons and pleasant conversation and told her I'd be coming up sometime which I will be, god willing.

Next morning I had to clean up all that party crap, but I'm not gonna commemorate that for future generations. Been packing, dicking around, reading my new book which I will tell you nice people about in another post.

I am neither morose nor manic, I merely exist.
Jenna said...

The misses?
I miss you, thats a misses.
Hope everything is well, including that drive.
Things pretty much suck here, except that I got to see the Megster today. Its really cold, too, worse than school. It's really foggy, as well, and freaking me out.
How many days?

7:07 PM  

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Class Blogging

In class. Bored. Professor is blabbing about audio quality, killing time before some muckity muck gets here to 'critique' our work. Never thought I'd be writing in class. My radio piece is done. Finished about 20 minutes ago. Ha! Don't say I should work at NPR, just don't—it's been said before. Wait... muckity muck showed up... listened to my work, ripped it apart as expected. I'm still the best, don't care bout the rest. The place I'm in is an impenetrable fortress of positive emotion. I'm having a birthday party on Thursday and Jenna, well, she seems quite enamored of me. Which is a good thing, Jenna. No worries. I'm just hoping to direct all this good emotion into passing some classes.


Mandatory Birthday Entry

Blog... write... important life experience... must capture... unghhh!

Today's my 21st birthday. Uh-huh. Got beer? Yup, I did. Two 24-packs and two bottles Sham-pag-neh. Didn't get carded—of course. I drink my first amber ale as I type this. Although really, I should be working on class berka berk. That's the problem with having your birthday during finals, is you have finals. So, having recorded this moment for future generations, I shall gracefully sign off.



I wanted to call this one just "Jenna"...and with good reason.

Today was more than just spent with Jenna, today was Jenna. It was Jenna day. And it was a good day.

A good day.

I've tried to decide what form to use in translating my experience to a space that anyone could theoretically stumble across, and I've decided to go with the free association memory narrative. It's the one people will probably be more open to, and also the most experiential and least analytical. This was most definitely an experience and one I won't forget.

This is a bracelet. I broke it.
I did not expect. I really did not. I remember before, when I tried to start a pillow fight, I hit my key mobile and it's still hanging sideways. And I remember when I fetched water in my bathrobe after. I remember all that confetti being there with us. She had made sounds in the night, whooshes and booms like a dive bomber. We thought these things after waking: I, register for classes, she, go and eat in town. But we went never far from bed. It was an absolutely beautiful day but no matter. We were inside and it was better. I didn't believe at first when she said what she said, because we'd talked and I never thought... like that... in my room with the mess and the daylight streaming in bright like a lamp. It made things hot and so I turned the heater off, but by then it didn't matter. We were hot from kissing, from touching and having our bodies together. Then she said "we've gone this far." I was surprised and asked her again and asked if she was sure. She said yes but I didn't know. And so I put another contact in to replace the one I'd lost in the night, then I could see her clearly and I saw in her face that she was sure. I don't know how I could tell but I could. At that moment I felt so much thankfulness and kindness and responsibility and I just wanted to be good to her. I knew she would remember even more than I would. And so we did. We did it. And it was good, but also very new to her and hard work for me. I remember her face then, and afterwards touching the stickers on my wall. I knew it to be too soon when I asked how she felt but she wrote later in her journal: "I'm glad. I really am. I'm glad he was my first" and that made me happy. She was still a bit stunned afterwards, that it actually happened. When she left I made bubbles, lots of bubbles out the window that blew up and out and everywhere and that helped. We showered apart and she said later the first two people she talked to asked her about sex. And she blogged it right then, yes, so I don't feel I'm exposing her. We ate after being apart an hour. Then, since we had finally gotten off campus and were in no hurry back I took her to Lover's Point. I thought it appropriate. We watched the stars and sat on the rocks and hid from headlights and kissed as the ocean chased us. It was very nice, and I wanted to make her whole day special. After that we sat on a bench and talked. I talked about how surreal life is and we discussed how it could be real if it was above reality. And I told her the last time I was there was with Dana—the last time I was with her. We both saw a shooting star but wouldn't admit our wishes. On the drive back I suggested that we should be considered official, be boyfriend and girlfriend, which is what I knew she'd wanted for a long time. Not because of what we did but because it made me realize all that we'd already done in the past 64 days, what we've become. Once back at her dorm we messed around when no one was looking. We drank vodka and pepsi which tasted like nail polish remover. And then she surprised me again and said that she felt like a person on a roller-coaster, who once they've been through wanted to go again. I don't think I could paraphrase her any better. So when her roommate left for a half-hour we seized the moment, ripping off clothing as fast as we could and leaving some on. It was quick, and fun. Then we cracked some windows and lit a candle and didn't get caught. It was incredibly crazy, even surreal. Sometime afterwards I started laughed and couldn't stop for a long time. I laughed for no apparent reason but now I know the reason was that. Before I left she started blogging things again, so I yanked her out of her chair and danced cause that's what she needed. There was more kissing than dancing, though. We kissed a lot before I left. And now I'm here and it took 5 hours to write this but it was worth it. It was worth it.

Good day.
Jenna said...

You made me smile this big.
I realized today that the :ahem: evidence was sitting in my trash can. Just chillin there. :o) Oops.

Thank you.

11:28 AM  
cuidadosllamas said...

everything you wrote was lovely. i'm happy for you sir. i really am.

9:01 PM  

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God is...

Today, I wasted time. As I did yesterday. But today I feel like it was positive, like my parents would be proud—which they probably would. I posted this today on an internet forum to the topic: "Do you believe in God?"

God is me. That, in my philosophy, is quite true and in a literal sense.

Corollary: God is also you. And that guy over there. He's confused, though he suspects it. Oh, and everyone else too. Everything in fact.

God is both the individual plankton and the massively complex yet organized system of emergent ecology that is supported by and makes possible plankton. God is the amino acid, and also the blue whale. Some say the word can stand for Generator Organizer and Destroyer. Surprisingly, I've found this philosophy does not really counter mainstream Christianity. An interesting semiotic argument could be made about the making of man in God's image, and how the sign often becomes the signified.

Miracles, then, could be said to be an effect of collective belief manifested through both space and time--enough people believe you can walk on water and it's possible. In no way does this diminish the miracle, though. I would think it even more miraculous that the power of thought could produce such remarkable acts, instead of some mysterious and unknowable God.

I could go into all sorts of thought-provoking rambles concerning how this applies to the ever-more-popular intelligent design theory, or how the iterations common in chaos theory suggest that all parts of the universe are merely smaller or bigger versions of themselves, but I won't. Not now anyways.

Thanks for reading!

Orin said...

Jenna wants to comment? Of course...

Who else would be reading here?

7:17 PM  
Jenna said...

You caught me.
But I caught you.
Or... you told me.
This is why LJ is nice- protected entries.
You do know that I can still protect stuff so that even Emily cant read them.
I do that with Kat and Meg.
They see stuff other people cant see.
The super personal stuff I want them to know.
I rarely make a private entry.
Thats the paper journal.

12:26 AM  

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Poor Time Management

I've recently figured out that I have poor skills in managing my time.

Apparently, it has been a constant problem. When I shared my revelation with Emily she rattled off a good half dozen instances. Who knew?

One might have guessed from the fact that I have a blog in the first place. It's taken me a good 12 hours to write this entry, what with all the other stuff I've done in between. Like gone over to Jenna's dorm for 10 hours, or written Emily a fatty email for instance. Not that I didn't enjoy doing either—it's just that I'm bad with my time. And yes, that includes blogging. So goodbye.


I have been... Discovered!

So you know that website I posted, the collection of photos from Rocky Horror? And the new address and all? Well they're kinda the same domain and one thing I didn't figure... well, just look at the hit graph for this page:

Yeah, BOOM!

Right there on Sunday when I sent out the email to all those people and Open Forum too... hoo boy. Total of 16 first-time visitors, not including myself. How ironic that the first post viewable read: "This blog, as it is now, is for no one but me." Chah right. So does that mean I actually have to make a nice page with layout and formatting? Do I have an audience? I hope not. Dude, this was just something I got for free on the internet.

By the way, Jenna, I can see you reading this. Yeah—that's right.


Rocky Horror Album (Done)

I've finally published it and sent out the emails. The response has been really good so far and I'm proud at making my first real website. And I should be; it took quite a long time—granted, this was because of my procrastination, but still. I'm happy with it.

It has a very nice, clean address too:

Oh! And so does this blog. As of December 2nd, this page uses the forwarding address "Orin.co.nr". I think that's a little easier than "http://home.csumb.edu/l/lalond-bergrobert/world/", don't you? Thank God for free stuff on the internet.