introspective periscope : peeking inside since Y2K

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beautiful day

before not going to class - twenty eighth of march, 2001--who loves the sun?-

"don't talk too fast to me....slow...i wanna know. share your philosophy before you go. i wanna know."~train

i looked at the clock early last evening and found the night stretched before us. i can't remember a time when i so looked forward to an evening in front of the box. i appreciate the conversation, upbuilding and sweet. i've never felt more comfortable being myself before. i think that i've been more honest with myself the older that i get. sometime in the last years, i've become more in touch with what i really want; with who i really am. i don't have to pretend and i don't want to pretend anymore. living as a make believe character only got me the company of people that would flock to such a person. more often than not, those very people that i'd attracted made my stomach turn, took advantage of me, and left me broken every time. i don't want to break anymore. i don't want to be weak and change myself to fit in. lately, i've been feeling that the more honest i am with myself about what makes me happy and the more up front about my values i am, the better the company surrounding me. they're people with the same tastes, interests, amazing talents, and thick forested brains that i love to hike through. yes, we had the night stretched out in front of us and i filled the time with questions, pausing to change the music or replay songs that are becoming more special, not simply because the music is so good, but because the songs, the lyrics...they remind me of you. i like to be reminded of you a lot lately. whether its the song birds in the very early morning just after firey dawn when i take verbil out or a line of a song that i've heard a hundred times made more special because you have heard it, too; because you have found some meaning in the music. i like to be reminded of you often. you say that i am in your thoughts. you, as well, have been moving into mine, becoming something of a permanent resident when the day slows enough for me to think. i like what's happening here. what is happening here? i dont' need a name for it. i'm happy. a lot of that said goodness is coming as a sort of wonderful gift from you.

i woke late this morning. i suppose it was really afternoon. verbil and i took to the strange empty streets sometime after two a.m., heading for the grove. i love the way this small town pulses when there is nobody out but me. i love the way i can feel it breathing, sighing, even, as if relieved that everyone has finally gone to sleep. the streets and sidewalks and sky and trees and all of the other sense-data with which the world bombards me seem to be like parents who can finally sit down together and finally catch their breath after having just put the seemingly tireless children to bed. and i feel like a six year old creeping around the house when i'm supposed to be in bed. i like that feeling; that solitary adventure. verbil always seems to understand: she stops and lets me watch stars; she stops and lets me breathe. i've been finding more reason to breathe lately, more reason to slow down and worry less. i was confusing it all with apathy, maybe. i don't think its apathy at all, but instead, a feeling something like calm. i like it. we walked on to the grove and i unleashed verbil who, as always, darted away like a fur-covered bullet. i like to watch her run. sometimes, i chase her. sometimes, i let her chase me. i love how the mud there freezes and thaws so well. its sloppy by day and frozen turf by night, the frost covering the short crystalline blades of grass. we run. she runs more than i do. i run til my lungs hurt. i never feel nearly as strange running around in the grove at this time of night because there is nobody to see me except maybe the occasional drunk who won't even remember the spectacle i'm making by morning; except for maybe the police officer who drives through to make sure that nobody is being attacked or doing things against the rules. at this time of night, there are no rules i'm looking to break except for maybe gravity. i want to be able to touch those stars. (maura makes a good point. what is this affection we hold for unfeeling masses of gas a million light years away?) i want to speak and commune with moonlight. she was so gorgeous when i'd walked home from class, excited with that strange flutter in my stomach because i'd get to talk to him soon. by the time i'd gotten outside into the frigid clear night, she'd disappeared. there is a comfort in solitude when the moon is out. i never feel nearly as alone. nobody would dare hurt me in moonlight.

verbil ran and we played. i'm starting to trust her to listen to me a lot more now. i decided to put this theory to the test and started to walk towards home. we made it all the way without the leash. every now and then, she'd wander a little bit but always stopped on the walk and waited for me to catch up. "stop looking at those stars, silly girl," she says. I can see it in her eyes, sometimes. "there is an electric blanket preheating at home and its past your bed time. i had no idea you were planning to stay out this late. you must be freezing. come on, now." Sometimes, i think my dog knows best. so i followed her, still stealing occasional glances at constellations and wondering if, behind those closed doors and drawn shades of the houses lining the silent street...wondering if there wasn't someone who enjoyed the night as much as me; if there wasn't someone who might understand me or ever even come close to relating. i think there must be someplace. i like to think so, anyway. i think that i'd really like to have some company on my journey, these days...someone to come home to at night; someone to care about my day. i am starting to remember what thats like. i remember how nice it can be, if i open myself up to it. i think i'm ready to start exposing more of myself. people can take what they want and leave the rest for someone else who needs it, too. whats there to hide from? i can't change who i am; i can't change how i am. i know my flaws. i can only strive to minimize. where is all of this affirmation and positiveness coming from? something so fresh. i like to breathe.

i went to the grove again after i'd finally woke to the sunshine. we went after i saw Terri. she believes that this is what her dream meant, she says. she knew that i've been on a road to implosion for awhile now. she is one of those intuitive people that i will always value in my life; one of those people that, twenty years from now, i will still call upon to hear some sense talked at me. i value her opinion and, as much as she tries to hide it behind a smart assed facade, her compassion. she is the maternal figure i've been seeking that doesn't have the utero ties to me like my real mother. she can't be biased; only objective.

i felt good as we left, trotting and squinting as the sunshine pushed into the retinas that had been wide open for the grey of the last few days. i think that on sunny days after strings of grey, people get new eyes and have to learn to see again. i love getting new eyes.

i unleashed the pup when the people had settled into classrooms and she ran again for a little bit, but nothing like last night. i talked with milton and trevor and a pretty girl whose name i don't know on the park benches for awhile. i like to talk to those boys. they make me smile. they make me think. i like boys that make me think. they make me laugh. they made the pretty girl with the ralph nader pin laugh, too. apparently, libby, our resident femi-nazi, was arguing the free will debate with trevor just before i'd arrived. i was disappointed. it sounded like libby could've used some philosophical backup. i've been dying to discuss the free will debate with intelligent folks, my new epiphany having been granted the other night. terri said something about me finishing a philosophy major. I just don't have the patience. i enjoy thinking, but aristotle, i am not. i don't want to make myself crazy like wittegenstein. i am crazy enough on my own. instead, we talked about angry girls and then, cute girls that walked by. those boys are the sweetest in the world and i don't know why they are chickens. uncle m is funny and intelligent; trevor is a riot and equally intellectual. what is wrong with girls walking by these days? Uncle M and Trevor wave hello. some girls..maybe even most girls...just look away. trevor leaves for boston university at the end of the semester and i suppose i don't know him well enough to really keep in touch. still, there's something to be said for people that come into our lives and drift on out. i often think of the people that have drifted out and wonder what happened to them. what happened to that west coast boy that broke me into a million uncaring pieces? did he ever really take responsibility for his actions or is he still blaming the system? did he ever go finish school and become an(whats that called, brian?) anesthesiologist? what ever happened to the best friend of my childhood, heather zaleski? when i moved, did she make new friends? did she finish high school? what does she like to do now? and how is jason kuntz liking fargo? i wish i could ask him if he thinks i'm really strong enough to pull up roots like that. i'd like to ask him a lot of things. and what about jenny thomas? did she ever go back to school? does she still kiss girls like me? does she still do it so she can kiss their gay male friends? what about betsy, my kindred? did she ever marry that boy? is she still working at that place in lancaster? does she get enough sleep? does she sleep soundly? is shes still afraid like i am still afraid? does she think of me, too? i often wonder about a lot of people that i've met. i've always had great intentions of keeping up but i have such a hard time keeping up with myself. what about all of those faceless folk that i've met through the box? i wish them well. i hope for the best.

uncle m and trevor had to head out. marie showed up at the benches. i leashed verbil and strolled with marie to the library, chatting and wishing i had more time to spend with her.

i headed home. i did dishes, my new favourite cd playing in toni's unused room. her things are in there; possessions she never cares to see. she hasn't slept a night here since the first snow, i think. i hope that they're happy, she and the glass hearted boy. i'm glad, now, for the crisis that made me cut my hair and cry for days; that made me sad and evaluating, untrusting and timid again. i'm glad for it only in that i no longer pine after him; i no longer ache for him. i regret, sometimes, the tears shed for him, but i can't be bitter about not having him at my side. i couldn't be what i'm becoming if i'd gotten that wish. its like a song that i wont mention about unanswered prayers. i don't pray often, if ever...if what i do is really "prayer". i think, looking back, that if i'd had my way, i would never have found my way out of that rut of apathy; that unfeeling uncaring cool that he was known to inflict on me. i am a warmer person, i am tropics and he is antarctica. i need something a little bit more flamingo-friendly.

yes, i put Train on and did the piles of dishes, setting aside the glasses with the milk rings in them. I'm still not tolerating lactose. i simply won't stand for it.

I'm missing my class tonight. it was a whim that i probably shouldn't have acknowledged....but i'm sort of glad for it. every now and then, i just need a day for me; a day to reflect.

dennis called. it was the first i'd heard from him in months. it was a wave of emotion to hear his voice. i miss my friend greatly. i was beginning to wonder if i'd offended him somehow. i'm not big on offending, really. especially not offending those who i respect and admire. he is so intelligent. when i finally uproot and move west, the voice of dennis is one voice that will never fade from my memory. it makes me think of the first time that someone ever told me i had a beautiful smile for no reason at all except that he thought it was beautiful. dennis is a beautiful soul. i'm lucky to know him.

beers? no. perhaps some sheetz sub tonight as a treat. i mean..why not go all the way on carole day?

i'm happy and half tired. mixing up like that is euphoric, in a sense. i'm anxious to hear from him. he makes me smile more than anyone i know. i like to smile. dennis says its a beautiful smile. today, i feel like i could take his word for it. today, i felt really beautiful.

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.what came before. - .what happened next.

a diamond at the bottom of the drain - 20 october 2017
baseball season to football season, abbreviated - 25 september 2017
the doodles - 11 july 2017
at arm's length - 4 july 2017
like a sea-mammal needs a bicycle - 30 may 2017

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