a heart that beats as both siphon and reservoir

a friend of mine told me today that this was jeff buckley's death anniversary. i quickly corrected this friend, who was not even close- his death date is may 29th, 1997 to be exact. it did however get me thinking about him as i sometimes do, considering he is hanging above my bed in poster format. ever since i was twelve years old, i've had a love affair with dead men and their tortured souls. jeff buckley, elliott smith, nick drake, jason thirsk, nick traina- all musicians, all very much dead by their own hand.

i consider jeff buckley's death a bit of a mystery though. he was known to have a history of bipolar disorder and manic depression. most of me believes that he went swimming in wolf harbor river fully clothed with boots on thinking that he could walk on water or breathe underwater. i don't think he wanted to die. i don't think it was his intention at all that evening to drown. i believe he was in the midst of a manic episode. i wonder what exactly he was thinking when he did it. i wonder if he had a moment of sanity where he knew he was drowning and dying or if he tried to come back to the surface for air.

i go through the same motions with elliott smith and the fact that he stabbed himself in the heart. was there a split second he wished he could take it back while he was bleeding out? i'm not sure you're even capable of feeling fear or regret after making a conscious decision to kill yourself. it seems like after you go that far there is no turning back. once you are so miserable, isolated, and numb i don't think you can experience the normal ebb and flow of emotions. with this opinion, i suppose i've answered my own question: they didn't feel a thing.

how to cry in total silence

as it shows in the date text line, it's been a long time since i last posted- the main reason being i couldn't ever remember my password. it wasn't for lack of thoughts, dreams, or opinions.

what exactly is a rut? what brings it on and why do they seem to last for far too long? i feel like i'm stuck in one and i don't see any way out. that's the whole point of a rut. it's hard to snap out of it, to get a grip on yourself. i can see both sides of the spectrum here. i understand the person that has little to no tolerance for "getting stuck in a rut" but i can also very well understand the person who gets caught. i too, have no tolerance for do-nothingism and that's a whole different story. there is a huge difference between someone who does nothing and the person who feels like doing nothing but forces his or herself to be productive in some way, shape, or form. i'm saying i understand the latter. ruts are awful. they make people unsure of themselves in all areas of their lives and relationships. are they good enough? are they pretty enough? are they smart, thin, wealthy enough? are they worth it? ruts make that person answer "no" to each question, effectively destroying most of their self confidence. everything starts to hurt. lying about being fine becomes commonplace. you start to zero in on every imperfection, things that friends and family might love about you. those quirks and specific mannerisms, the sound of your own voice, the way you move your hands and lips when you talk become the very things you just can't stand about yourself. they become things that need fixing or eliminating.

does it sound like i'm carrying on? am i carrying on? i am, i'm hyper aware of that. that's part of the point of this, to be the person no one likes right here. no one wants to hear other people's trials and tribulations. people will say they're there to listen, but in their heads they are checking the time every minute, hoping you'll be done soon. who wants to hear it? i don't even like to listen to people like that. i don't want to be someone's burden, i don't want to be a chore. i want to keep being a productive individual who actively contributes to society, making some small difference and not just being a waste of space. can i keep it up?

pick the victims to pieces

it took me a few days to digest and process what my subconscious came up with and now i'm ready to go through the whole thing. i'm not even going to try to connect the different scenarios in any smooth way. it's simply a cluster-fuck of dream segments. it starts in a burrito joint. a group of violent ninjas storm the storefront, killing random customers and employees. one customer is a girl wearing a ridiculously huge ball gown and she had braces that were blue. the ninjas were hacking people up in seconds. it was like a kill bill movie. so everyone in the front is dead while the employees in the back have armed themselves with balls of dough to fight off the ninjas rapidly approaching them. needless to say, the dough did nothing for the remaining employees and the ninjas were off and running after they killed the last one. the ninjas ran toward an overpass and then hang a right into a wooded area where a bunch of little kids sat in a clearing expectantly waiting for them to return. each ninja sat beside a child, nicely, and seemed to be teaching them how to grow up and be a ninja. it seemed like a father-son exchange. changing the subject rapidly, a mormon family is running an underground beer factory from the middle of the woods. all of the kids (i don't know how many, but there were definitely too many) were ages 4 to 16, all alcoholics. their dad were yell out different types of beer and each kids were run up to him and retrieve their fix. the mother was quiet and seemed to do whatever her husband told her to do. the 16 year old was creepy looking and her eyes were too big for her head. she was also pregnant and seemed to be the "bad seed" of the family which saying a lot considering her 4 year old sibling is drunk of its ass and they're all living in the middle of nowhere producing copious amounts of beer illegally. i didn't think her situation could get any worse until cops stumble upon one of their drunk children and follow the kid back to the factory. a sting is set in place and the mormon dad catches wind of this so he starts to surround the house with explosives, not concerning himself with the well being of his children. his wife is freaking out and trying to gather the little drunkards. the dad gives the older kids- 10 and up- guns and tells them to shoot at the people in uniforms. the dad grabs a rifle for himself and starts lighting up the explosives to deter the cops. all the while, the 16 year old climbs out of a screened in window and makes sure to bring a gun for herself. she runs through the woods and through shallow water and a police dog sniffs her out. she tells the dog to fuck off and then shoots it. almost immediately, she turns the gun on herself-points it to her belly- and shoots. a lot of other things happened in the dream and i can only remember fragments that aren't even worth typing out. all i'll say is that it involves frank the entertainer from that reality show with one of flava flav's ex's, a gay love affair between two middle aged businessmen, a basketball game gone terribly wrong, weird people sleeping in my basement, and walmart. this was a doozy, to say the least. i know i switched tenses about twenty times but at this point, does it really matter? the dream didn't make sense so the tenses don't have to make sense either. hopefully, my next few posts will start to be coherent. if not, then something is definitely wrong with my head. here's things that make me smile:

a good night's sleep, getting to sit on the lifeguard chair at the beach, fireworks, new workout pants, the glimmer of hope i feel when i send out my resume (even if it adds up to nothing), volunteering, summer dresses, sprite zero, the fact that dunkin' donuts now sells a pina colada donut which i have yet to ingest, drawing outside, freshly sharpened pencils, wearing a bikini all day and using the heat as an excuse to do so, trailing sand into my room after coming home from the beach, hanging my arm out of a car window, sun roofs, the moment i put a food i've been craving in my mouth.

no chance of walking away without a scratch

graduation day is rapidly approaching but surprisingly, this post will in no way be dedicated to that topic today. instead, i'll recant the dream i had last night. it was more of a d list horror movie mash up and i was horribly confused when i woke up, as i usually am. it starts off with me on a giant cruise ship headed toward an island with a group of other vacationers. the ship was abnormally huge and had horrible steering capabilities. eventually the ship ungracefully beached itself on land and people jumped out in a disorderly fashion. i got out and found my way to the swanky resort at which i was staying. i set my things down and looked out the window. it was then i noticed that this was not any sort of paradise. menacing clouds and angry locals were rampant and it started hailing as i turned my back to the window. i rifled through my belongings, finally finding my cell phone. i tried calling home but the phone wouldn't even turn on. i then decided to bite the bullet and accept all long distance charges and use the hotel phone, but that didn't work either. at this point, i was becoming very unsettled. i was alone on this island and i barely brought anything with me. as it was, i only brought bathing suits and no real clothes but i had the forethought of wearing sneakers, somehow all the while forgetting a pair of pants. i left the room hurriedly and ran down the fire escape stairs for no apparent reason. i could have easily got on the elevator. anyway, i got to the lobby and saw that it had stopped hailing but the sky was a dark and unfriendly grey while the water under it churned with wave after wave. i asked a hotel desk clerk where the nearest train station was. why i would ask that question is beyond me but that's the beauty of my dreams- they make no sense. he pointed in the general direction of where the station was and i just started running, something i'd be doing a lot of for the rest of the time. i ran through the resort grounds and eventually hit the train station. i got on the next train i saw and it was probably the worst decision i made. not only was hannibal lecter on this train, but so was a young man who claimed to be my stalker, an old man with his brain exposed, and a horribly unhelpful train conductor. i took a seat on the train, which was actually a subway car but you could walk through the cars like you can in LIRR cars. so i sat there and watched hannibal lecter walk through the train car door and just stare at each person on the train for about a minute each. he was blatantly holding a large knife and no one seemed to mind but me. i don't know what set him off but he started yelling and ran through the opposite door and just kept going. i was glad to not have him in my car. next, a young fat man who looked a little bit retarded came up to me- again with a large knife- and said he'd been watching me since i was eleven years old. he said he had a gift for me and gave me a handful of what looked like corned beef and just smiled at me and stared. he kept trying to hold my hand or hug me and i kept dodging each attempt. he finally left me alone and took his corned beef with him. at this point hannibal lecter came back into the car i was in and looked like he wanted trouble. the car seemed to have gotten longer so i had more time to think about what action i was going to take. then, an old man in a creaky wheel chair appeared at the opposite end of the car as hannibal. his brain was seeping out of a large open area in his skull and he had the look of a brain damaged person, understandably. i took his chair and gave it a good push toward hannibal and he was taken out by a comatose man in a wheel chair. the train stopped and i pried open the doors and jumped out. it was night time at that point and the area around me didn't look developed at all. there was one paved trail going through a wily array of vines, trees, and enormous plants. i kept running in hopes of finding something when a local in face paint jumped out at me. i screamed and stopped running and he informed me i was running a marathon and would be timed. i would be spared if my time was under eight minutes. i frantically asked what was going on and after getting no answers i just started sprinting toward a finish line i couldn't distinguish. i started to see a few more people running in the same direction and my hope was renewed. soon, the trail was all uphill and i knew i must have been passed twenty minutes. the last push was up a flight of uneven stairs and there was a girl who barked "7:38" at me. i knew she screwed up her timer because there was no way i made it in under eight minutes. i looked around to see if anyone noticed and just cooly walked away from that scene, grateful for that girl's stupidity. i walked through the resort grounds again which were extensive and seemed to take an hour or two. by the time i made it to the lobby, it was dawn and i saw the same cumbersome ship pull up to land. my parents jumped off the boat and started running toward me which is a rare occurrence, especially for my dad considering the man doesn't run at all. he hugged me and asked if i was alright. i answered with an "absolutely not" and we got on a private plane that appeared pretty much out of nowhere. my parents told me they were sorry for ever letting me come to this place and that i'd be okay. we took off and i looked down at that horrible place and then back to the familiar faces of my parents, all the while still just wearing a bikini and sneakers.

drive all over town

i was somewhat disappointed in the lack of originality in my dream last night, but it was still pretty odd and random. as per usual, there's no starting point- i'm just suddenly driving my dad's car, a mint green ford 500, to the dealership. it was sunny and i felt relaxed even though i was about to do something terribly stupid. i drive through a familiar area and arrive at the ford dealership my dad got the car from. i get out of the car and walk into the building, asking to speak to a sales representative. i continue to state that i wish to sell my dad's car to them immediately. for some reason, probably because it was a dream, the sales rep accepts my offer and takes the car key out of my hand. i then decide to buy my dad a ford dealership shirt, thinking this purchase would make up for the fact that i just sold his car without any discussion and seemingly on a whim. i walked home with a tee shirt in place of a car and ran into my mom. the second i saw her, it hit me. i got rid of my dad's car and my dad loves cars, especially his. i remember feeling panicked and nervous, like a little kid who just dropped their bowl of ice cream topped with chocolate syrup on the brand new carpet. even though the difference between a wall with sloppy crayon drawings on it and a missing car is quite large, the feeling was the same- i did something dumb and i thought of the consequences way too late. i woke up from this dream sweaty and thinking i was going to be in a huge amount of trouble. after the sleepy fog lifted, i realized the only thing i had done wrong was sleep a few minutes late and would need to rush to catch a train.

fuel for the hate game

there's one concept i have never seemed to grasp- the notion of not caring. i don't understand how or why it's "cool" to not care about anything or anyone. how could that possibly boost someone's image or social standing? the whole "i don't give a fuck" attitude isn't endearing or charming. it's a red flag to others telling them that that particular person is socially inept and most likely self important. it's wonderful to be confident but it's simply irritating to be cocky. i strive for deeper and stronger connections with the ones i care about. for the most part, the people i care about do the same. i can't imagine a life full of yeah's, sure's, okay's, whatever's, and fine's. i thrive on something more meaningful and sincere. i prefer i love you's, i hate you's, absolutely's, and absolutely not's. there's a definitive passion in people that are aware of those around them. lots of people have this "holier than thou" complex. the joy of being human and having this in depth thought process is that we can appreciate differences among us yet everyone seems so resistant to utilize this. what makes their opinions, likes/dislikes, and hobbies so much better than everyone else's? if you like to skydive, that's cool. i personally like being in the ocean rather than the sky but if that's what you're into- awesome, not my place to judge. you like filet mignon? great, i prefer chilean sea bass but we can totally agree to disagree and manage to have an intelligent conversation on something other than our surf or turf preferences. you listen to flo rida, garth brooks, and the doors? fine by me, just don't ram your favorite bands down my throat and i'll appreciate where you're coming from. in return i expect people to not hear what i listen to and scoff at my taste. it makes for an uncomfortable and unnecessary situation. these are simple things that make a big difference. one person is no better than another because of their scene or opinions. it's just part of what makes that person up. it doesn't always have to be this big tug of war between whose thoughts are cooler than the other's. i feel like all people care about now is how they look in the eyes of their peers rather than caring about them. it seems a bit backwards to me. i've been guilty of this myself in the past but the difference here is that i acknowledge it. there are numerous individuals out there that truly, deeply think that they are always right and their way is the only way. that's a frightening fact. not caring seems like a lonely world filled with insecurity, shitty relationships with the people around you, and a pent up anger at seemingly nothing. i'm not saying hug every stranger you see, but maybe put some more effort towards showing the company you keep that you'd actually like to keep them. besides caring, these are some other things that make me happy.

uniquely decorated mugs, making my own typefaces, running at night, free shipping and handling, woody harrelson, finishing a project and actually liking it, craisins, rag magazines.

take the wheel and steer

my spring break has come and gone quite fast and even though i didn't go away on vacation or to cancun or something else cliche, i still enjoyed it. just taking a break from manhattan and school was all i needed. i did a lot of work, but not having to go into the city made all the difference. i was able to get two of my closest friends in the same place for an old school sleep over, complete with home made pizza and chocolate milk. though our tastes have changed from extra cheese pizza to shrimp and zucchini pizza and instead of pancakes, we prefer coffee and oatmeal with cranberries- we are essentially the same exact people we were when we are together. the three of us reverted back to how we were in high school and we laughed so hard at the same six to eight year old jokes. it was an alcohol and drug free night, but we acted like we were out of our minds which is always how it was years ago. it was refreshing, to say the least. the weather during break did not look promising in the beginning, but by wednesday things started to look bright. honestly, all i need is sunlight. i spent the early part of my days from then on in running outside, longboarding, and just being outside even if it meant taking all my homework with me. my sister and i went out to greenport and orient together and had a spectacular time. we left by 11am and got back home at around 6:30pm. we laughed a lot, had tasty wraps, walked around the town, and got some gourmet candy for the ride home. i had no idea they made gourmet orange slices so i was all over the two the store had left. i also took a lot of reference photos for one of my projects which was perfectly timed since the sun was out and it was the right time of day to take said pictures. i got at least five trucks to honk at my car dancing and almost caused my sister to run the car off the road because she was laughing so hard at my pure stupidity. i also found out that tara can not pump her own gas. i ripped her apart for that one. i feel lucky that i have a sibling that i can really get along with. we're polar opposites for the most part except for our humor and the fact that we love each other unconditionally. we have the dumbest jokes that no one understands but us and we tell each other we hate each other casually. as much as we bitch about the other, we are fortunate that we have a good relationship and can look at spending a day with one another in a positive light.

another thing i did over break was send out my resume to a lot of different companies. the chance that any of these places will call me back is highly unlikely, but i figured i should at least get my name in their systems now even before i graduate. it really hit me that i'm going to be a real live grown up soon and instead of being nervous, i smile at the thought of starting something completely new. i have no idea where i'll be in a year from now and i actually like that. there are so many roads i could go down and maybe i'll go down a lot of them. of course, my nerves flare up a little bit as anyone's would but the overriding feeling through this whole process has been a positive one. i can't wait to start whatever it is i'll be doing. it's bizarre and invigorating at the same time. to continue with this string of good things, here's my happy list.

music that fits a particular mood, car rides, quality time with whoever, letting go of inhibition, throwing caution to the wind, gourmet orange slices, taking care of myself first and foremost, old dogs, standing on a rotting dock, the sense of possibility, being productive, milking the day for all it's worth, driving with all the windows open, meaningful conversations, not so meaningful conversations.