Archive for March, 2007

Hall of mirrors

Published on March 15, 2007 in Personal and Waiting for the miracle. 1 Comment

I’m sitting here, hungry for the pizza I’m about to prepare, trying to remember how to say “I’m hungry” in Spanish (I supposedly learned that this morning), and gradually coming down from a late afternoon caffeine buzz. Life is swirling and I can’t seem to wrap my mind around anything solid and stable. I don’t know what the sweet fuck I’m doing, and… wait… here’s a thought: Hole in the sky, on the fourth of July, on the fourth of July.

I’m trying to do too many things at once, but there are so many things to do, and everything takes time, and there’s just not much time, so I have to let so many things go. I want to be Ken Wilber and Bruce Lee and Ze Frank and Thomas Hanna and Alan Watts and Bill Hicks and Henry Miller, when the truth is, they’re not even them, I mean, they’re just ideas I have in my head, symbols of some ideal state of being, projections of squandered potentials and buried intentions. They are hallucinations in a hall of mirrors, dreams in a sleepless, moonless night.

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Wishbone

Published on March 8, 2007 in Personal. 0 Comments

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It seems I like to periodically put myself in the position of a wishbone, allowing myself to be pulled in two directions, letting the tension build and build until — SNAP!!! — I find myself in one place or the other. In 2000, I applied for doctoral study at Duquesne University in Pittsburgh, PA, while at the same time going house-hunting in Chapel Hill, NC, searching for the perfect old house for my friends and I to transform into a Rock N’ Roll crucible for avant-garde creativity. It wasn’t until I received a message on my answering machine from a Duquesne professor, congratulating me for being accepted to the program, that something snapped and I found myself signing the lease in Chapel Hill.

Then in 2004 I fell in love with a girl who received a fellowship to the University of Kentucky. Once again, I wanted to pursue two completely incompatible goals: 1) to live with her, and 2) to stay in Chapel Hill with my friends and bandmates. I tried to do both until — SNAP!!! — I found myself in Kentucky.

Yesterday, I received an email inviting me to interview for a graduate assistantship at Mount Holyoke College in South Hadley, MA. I plan to make the trip, and while I hope to get into the program, I also really want to finish my certification as an addictions counselor, which requires that I stay here in Kentucky through the Fall. But, you see, the professor I want to work with at Mt. Holyoke can only take me on as a student if I come THIS Fall. So, yesterday at 3pm I met with my supervisor to outline the plan for taking the counseling certification exam in December, then five hours later I’m emailing a professor in Mt. Holyoke, setting up an interview to attend graduate school in September, 800 miles away!

I can feel the tension building… building…

Missed Connections

Published on March 2, 2007 in Dustbin and Musical. 0 Comments

More messing around with iMovie:

You: Yellow eyes, black leather jacket, blue skin, a scar across your cheek
Me: Upside-down, inside-out and backwards, in the check-out line you smiled at me
My tongue was tied, I wanted to reach out, just for a taste
Drop me a line, if you remember, some other time, some other place

Just when I thought I found it, I guess it slippped away
The more I think about it, the more I slip away
It’s in my mind, maybe I’ve finally reached the edge
Maybe it’s time, maybe I’ve finally reached the end

I know I’m crazy for asking, but will you love me forever
And wherever you’re going, can we go there together
And whenever we get there, can we lay in the sun

There’s no turning back now, and there’s nowhere to run to
This is all that I have now, this is all it comes down to
And if it comes down to nothing, then there’s nothing to lose

It’s all in this moment, and I can hardly contain it
I cannot control it, and I just can’t explain it
But I know if I blow it, it’ll blow me away

My eyes are wide open, and my dreams are forgotten
There are no secrets unspoken, no feelings are locked in
And if the clock has stopped ticking, then it can’t be too late

Yes, my eyes are wide open, but I can’t seem to wake up
And I can’t put my faith in some shit that you made up
So I guess that leaves nothing but this… weight…