Mind: Hey, why are we awake?
Body: I don’t know. Eyes are heavy. Aren’t you in charge of putting us to sleep?
Mind: You would blame me. I want to be asleep.
Eyes: Uh, guys?
Mind: Not now, eyes!
East-facing Morning Window: What up, motherfuckers? That’s right, the sun!
Birds: I’m a bird! I’m a bird! I’m a bird!
Yeah, this is why I don’t take classes at 8 in the morning. I’m fucking nuts.
Lately I’ve been catching up on what has become one of my favorite tv shows, Little Mosque on the Prairie. There is a couple on the show who are engaged and it’s so cute how the smallest things they talk about seem so important. I watched this little exchange over about five times…
Rayyan: I’m so excited. It’s our first joint purchase.
Amaar: And it’s a bed.
Rayyan: Where we’ll be sleeping.
* No teachers
* Hot boys everywhere
* Kick-ass no bullying policy
* Homework is only for throwing
* They give you a free pet just for joining
* You never have to worry about what to wear
* Sexiness is encouraged
* There’s a slow-motion hallway
* There’s a special room only for drinking coffee and making out…
I totally stole this from Tumblr, but I had to post it here so I could find it again.
BURT: For most guys sex is just, you know this thing we always wanna do, you know, it’s fun, it feels great but we’re not really thinking too much about how it makes us feel on the inside or you know, how the other person feels about it.
KURT: Women are different?
BURT: Only because they get that it’s about something more than just the physical. When you’re intimate with somebody in that way, you’re exposing yourself, you know, you’re never going to be more vulnerable and that scares the hell out of a lot of guys. Believe me. I can’t tell you how many buddies I’ve got who have gotten in way too deep with a girl who said she was cool with just hooking up.
KURT: But that’s not going to happen to me, Dad.
BURT: No, it’s gonna be worse okay, because it’s two guys. With two guys, you got two people who think that sex is just sex. It’s going to be easier to come by and once you start doing this stuff, you’re not gonna wanna stop. You gotta know that it means something. It’s doing something to you, to your heart, to your self esteem even though it feels like just having fun.
KURT: So…you’re saying I shouldn’t have sex?
BURT: I think that on your thirtieth birthday it is a great gift to yourself. Kurt, when you’re ready I want you to be able to do…everything but when you’re ready I want you to use it as a way to connect to another person. Don’t throw yourself around like you don’t matter, because you matter Kurt.
“We always let him and we always will let him. The moment is structured that way.”
In Kurt Vonnegut’s novel, Slaughterhouse-Five, readers are treated to a unique idea in the form of the Tralfamadorians, a race of aliens who capture Billy Pilgrim to put him in their human zoo. They teach him how to become unstuck in time. These beings do not experience their lives in the way that we think of as “in order”, that is birth to death, but instead as if all their life is happening and has already happened all at once. This idea of all moments, or time travel if you will, becomes the major structure of the novel. What interests me is how the Tralfamadorians acknowledge that the idea of free will is taken out of the picture by this conception of time, but fail to see how that should bother them. The quote at the beginning comes from one of the beings telling Billy Pilgrim that one of their people will shortly do something that will cause the whole planet to explode. Billy asks why they don’t stop him, still thinking in linnear time.
What if all things that happen are already predetermined in some way? I don’t know if I mean by any sort of higher power or just by natural events. If we think about it rationally, any time something happens, even something shocking, upon reflection there are always events that lead up to it, causes for the effect. Every moment in our lives is cause and effect. I can explain every facet of my personality by relating it to something that happened to me when I was younger. I am very uncomfortable with my face getting wet in the shower, the rain, or swimming because once when I was eight, I almost drowned in a neighbor’s pool. I didn’t drown, of course, because the moment wasn’t structured that way. Even if as people we are unable to become unstuck in time and live our moments out of sequence, we can still relive them through the way we remember them. I can still feel the cranking pain in my mouth as my mother expanded the crank in my palate when I had braces. I can still see the three brightly colored sailboats on my third birthday cake. I can still smell the lilac tree that flowered every summer outside my school.
I do begin to wonder if our lives are planned out in some way. A couple of weeks ago in Ruth’s tarot class, I drew the 6 of pentacles, a card that I was told is a positive message of prosperity or something of the sort. I did not see this at all. Instead, I became very concerned by the images I saw on my card. I became very suspicious of the being handing out the glowing orbs to the smaller beings waiting with outstretched hands. I particularly became concerned for a small, innocent looking gnomish man at the bottom of the card. He looked so beguiled by what he had been given, so childishly excited. I didn’t trust these gifts and I became taken over by a desire to help this small gnome man. I told the class that I felt the underlying message of the card was not to trust things that seem too easy, that I shouldn’t deny feelings of unease just because it would make others happy. I remember thinking nothing more of it at the time.
A week later, I started talking to this boy. He seemed very intelligent and keen on me. A tiny part of me felt very surprised, a tiny feeling that this was all too good to be true. I pushed it aside. He and I agreed that since I was graduating in a couple of months, there was no real point in our getting too serious, but we could entertain a sort of casual dating relationship anyway. This seemed eminently agreeable to me. Everything seemed to be going fine when he suddenly flipped out over something I had written on my personal blog, a very casual play-by-play of what we had been up to in the past few days. Though I thought it was an innocuous description at best, he told me it was extremely personal and that I had broken his trust. Look over it as I might, I could not figure out where he was getting this impression. The whole time we were talking, I thought he would suddenly reveal it as a joke. At first, I was feeling very bad about upsetting him, even if I didn’t understand how I had done it. Then he sent me a message saying we shouldn’t communicate any more because it was clear I was “falling for him”. I wasn’t. I became very furious that he couldn’t see my writing as an exercise in self-reflection, but only a lovesick girl mooning. He told me he knew from the beginning that he shouldn’t have started anything with me, but that he had against his better judgement. I was angry because I hadn’t liked him that much at the beginning and I definitely didn’t then.
You see, from the beginning I had already lived out the possible end of that relationship. I had seen myself at graduation, walking off back to my house and driving off back up north without a tear in my eye. Now, as it turns out, that isn’t how the acquaintance ended, but it is definitely true of how I will feel about him when I leave. If I remember him at all. I think back to my card, back to my concern with trusting something that seemed too easy, and realize that on some level my subconscious was trying to tell me something. When I saw a story of caution and concern in a card that means the opposite, maybe somewhere else in my timeline I had already lived the moment where a boy decided he knew more about my feelings than I did. Maybe when I distrusted the large fairy woman passing out the orbs, I was already feeling the echoes of the pretentious jackass who would make me feel bad about liking what I like. Maybe when I wanted to save that leprechaun from falling for the fairy orbs, it was because I knew I couldn’t. He would accept the orbs and I would waste a week on a patronizing idiot. So it goes.
I had a dream last night that I was at some kind of school-sponsored fight at Cary-Grove. My plan was the same as for dodgeball, hang around toward the back and emerge as the last one standing at the end. My friend Jena, who actually lives in Pennsylvania was there and she tossed me a bag of those “hope” rocks to hold for her while she jumped into the fray. Suddenly, Amanda’s ex Russell came up to me and started choking me. I was unable to get loose, so I swung with all my might and hit him in the back of the head with the bag of rocks. I ran away and later learned that I had killed him.
A singer I like, Jason Mraz, has a blog at http://freshnessfactorfivethousand.blogspot.com/.
He says many things I like. This was one of them:
“Once in my hotel room I begin altering the place ever so slightly. The first thing is to get some music on. At Burning Man I make a promise to myself that I will never listen to music at a low volume ever again. Music is for dancing – for penetrating your subconscious and having sex with your soul. Music should leave you feeling satisfied and full, like you’ve just had a big meal and need to take a nap. or a crap.”