samuel the puppy bear

If all I want to do is sit around and listen to this(picture a little nsfw), does that make me pathetic?

I already went for a walk, did some planning and some reading. Every time I start one of these I think "sure I will have something to say" but then within seconds I realize I really don't. I read a book today that suggested keeping a journal of good things, happy things from each day. 

Good gyro at the gas station with Dad, an adventurous walk through the neighborhoods of Eden Prairie, a short chat with Ali. A few minutes facebook chatting with Becky, to be reminded that I over think, and not everyone is mad at me when they don't respond. A good iced tea. A good soundtrack. A ton of fantasies about meeting people, moments of real confidence. 

Here are some selfies, a shot of the sky over downtown and some storm damage:

 

I think it's a pretty common complaint... I haven't had Internet for the past few days and it started to feel a little lonely. Now I have it back and it feels way more lonely than it did without the possibility. 

I've been walking around lakes, drawing and dancing, reading books and wondering about people.  Thinking abut buying properties and thinking about taking vows of poverty.  Wondering if I should be a street performer or a pick up artist. Wondering if I need to exercise more and cut out excess, wondering if I should be packing up my stuff and why no one texts or emails me back.   

I am headed to Iceland on the 15th of July and coming back the 16th of August but in many ways that's feels worlds away.     Too soon and too far.   My coworkers joke that I will fall in love, I'm more worried about falling out. 

The moon has been big and so have my dreams, the return of Internet feels like a crash.  Perhaps the imagined possibilities are richer than realities.    Perhaps I'm being dramatic.     I miss someones. 

Falling

So my computer is in the shop, and I am learning to play around with iPad and all the apps and what not. I guess this is good practice for when I am traveling.  Some of it seems really cool and then you recognize the limitations.   Wifi is always going to be one limit...these things are practically useless without Internet.  Modifying things seems harder than with a good old mouse and screen. This is the wave of the future though right?   I don't have an iPhone yet, still planning on getting one.  I think my fingers are too big for these kinds of devices.... I am constantly hitting the wrong thing, or not hitting it because my fingers are fat or something.

Been seeing movies lately because I have no life.  Saw The East yesterday and today I saw superman, superman was excellent, the east was...ok.  I wished for more i guess.   

I have this bummed out, sad/jealous thing going on.

Last night I had a dream, I was with my dad in some sort of vehicle, and he said he'd wait in the car while I went and got it... But I got the impression  he was scared.  I went into the place... It turned out to be some sort of weird cavernous desert scene, with mountains and cliffs and unstable rocky ground.  I was just pulling myself up to the last ridge, when before me a volcano exploded. I could see the lava shoot up, but at first I felt no immediate danger... Then as it was showering closer, I realized that the whole area was unsafe nd I began to run.   I was running, leaping over cracks and fissures, I was jumping off of boulders and squeezing under narrow spaces.... When suddenly in the fast confusion of it all I was falling, sliding and it seemed  I was being swallowed by the earth... I remember as I descended  The thought that I couldn't possibly ever climb my way out of this great deep abyss.... And then I hit bottom... And the sand and rock piled atop me... Threatening to bury me, I tried to pull m way up, stay on top of the ground... Stay on top or I would surely die.... All this for an errand.  I'd never see anyone again... But I wanted to live...   So I woke up. 

I don't know if this is the first of some great fear about getting old... Or a warning to not get too close to any volcanos... Or a subconscious attempt at recognizing that I feel in over my head... Or sinking... Or separate. 

Summer School is going well.

I have plans to move some of my stuff in July before I leave and then the big stuff later I guess. 

I'm still not sure of the when and where of my travels...

I've been having all of these baby dreams and thoughts lately, but they weren't of yours. 

It's only 9:00 pm I kind of want to go to sleep... I live an awesome and yet boring existence. 

i only disliked one of these

I feel dumb.  I know this is just a passing feeling, its not all that powerful, its not all that extreme... I just feel like I screwed up on being what I should be.   
That's another thing right   "should" statements...
What did I do so wrong? Why is this... not what I want. Why am I not what I want...
too much fantasy and dreaming, and not enough being ok with reality. 

Weeks ago I couldn't sleep, so as I often do I started to imagine different possibilities for my life and the world. The desire I had was to become some sort of spiritual teacher, knowing full well it was fake, but knowing enough about spirituality and psychology and showmanship, that I would be helping people regardless because all they really need is for someone to care right? Tonight I watched Kumare. 

I'm really lonely in a way that seems different than in the past. I am hanging out with people every day, I am doing things I enjoy, I am preparing for the future. But everything feels fake.  Like this isn't my real life, this is me pretending to do the things I am supposed to do.  I am supposed to be in love, on an adventure and starting a family. Where is that? 

I have more thoughts but fuck it.  I hope you are well.  

feeling the ick

You know when you watch a video a bunch and then realize it has very few total plays... and you think "damn I must have contributed like half of those."

yeah


I feel kind of ill right now, and I think that might be contributing to my feeling low... but I am also trying to be social tonight... cuz I said I would - and that is the only way to keep yourself accountable right? plus they have good peanut butter cookies.


Its a mixture of loneliness, pessimism, envy and body aches.

Lonely because I can't have all the things I want.
Pessimistic because things aren't the way they should be, and its exhausting (owls).
Envious because other people are doing the things I wish I were doing.
Body aches because...  lunch wasn't cooked right? or because I stayed up too late?   who knows

Also, I am sick of these fucking bugs in my room. Who do I blame that on?

slowly shrinking

Its sad that my reaction to people moving on... is wishing people would post more on facebook or other websites so I could keep in touch without actually keeping in touch.

heart hotel

Yesterday I was thinking a lot about my heart, in some ways I feel like its the only thing I really know... in other ways it is a complete mystery to me. I began to imagine it as a sort of hotel. I don't know how big this hotel is, how many rooms it has, its constantly surprising to me... but there are some things that are for certain. Some of the rooms are filled with folks traveling through, short and long term stays welcome, but these folks will make their presence known for a night or for a few hundred and then pass on leaving room for the next guest. Other rooms seem permanent, my family for instance seems to have some really random rooms scattered throughout the hotel and they seem to have the right to do as they please within the confines of the hotel. Sometimes they knock down walls, shrink and enlarge their domain. Sometimes they get locked into their rooms for long periods of time without anyone noticing, but they are still there.  Sometimes they cause a commotion and the whole building gets shaken up...  there are more rooms, that seem to have a time and place.  For instance that girl that one night at Pete's house who told me about her religion. I don't understand why she is still around, I can barely find that room, but sometimes I stumble upon it and I go oh yeah she existed...I only met her once, but she has a room somewhere. Same with a few others, its not that I see them anymore but they still have a spot and it seems like it only fades slightly with time... childhood friends, for instance may have a spot but it seems like it has been under construction for a long time... so maybe eventually it will reopened for someone new.  Then there are the permanent rooms, the rooms for the people that I loved, and love, and though I sometimes have to make adjustments to the size of these rooms, they are here to stay... I know those rooms. I make a habit of walking down their halls on the regular, check to see if the lights on, to see if the room is warm etc.  These rooms are comfortable, I do whatever it takes to keep them comfortable, always ready for their return.  There are rooms I have had to open up because someone came in out of the rain and needed a place to stay, and also rooms where someone popped in and made my little hotel a more charming place.  There are the rooms that had catastrophes in them, and the rooms where miracles occurred. There are the rooms I don't go to because I am embarrassed -but they are still there because they are part of who I am... and there are rooms that I know are there but I still don't know who they belong to.  These are the people I am looking for, the ones with keys that will one day swoop in and unlock some piece of my hotel that holds some secret I don't know about... and I am waiting. Trying to keep the place looking nice, warm, comfortable... keeping the lights on to guide them in.   

Meh

I don't really know what it is exactly... maybe allergies sweeping in to rob me of my thoughts and tempt my eyes to close. Maybe its the weather, the barometric pressure causing my body to want to hide and find shelter under the covers. Maybe its just exhaustion, weeks of stress and emotional draining...  Maybe its depression, or just grieving. 

I have a thought, a dream, a plan... it vanishes, leaves me sleepy. 

I have a desire, a fantasy, a motivation... it vanishes, leaves me sleepy.

I don't really know what to do. Its not getting in the way of my normal daily routines... work is fine. But I am not really enjoying much, not really wanting to do the things I find myself doing. 

I wish I could. I would like to enjoy conversations and music, I'd like to appreciate things. I'd like to be creative and passionate... but when I try to put myself in a place to be/do that... I just get sleepy. 

How annoying



good work is happening at the capital this week.
 I want to run away. 

Saturday night may o '13

Lacey told me tonight she is probably moving to Texas in a few weeks. I wasn't surprised entirely because she has been thinking about it, but I didn't know it would be so soon. That's before the school year is even over... meaning I won't even have time to think about it too much.

She asked me when I'd be able to go down, or rather if I would want to... I told her maybe in the fall, but that this summer I better go on with the things I was thinking about for me.  Maybe Philadelphia in June, and maybe Ireland in July?
Who knows though...

I am not sure what or how to think about that right now... I am not overwhelmed with it, but it will change things. Its funny to think how quick a friendship can begin and become such a main part of your life.  Or how quickly that can change.

I have been wanting to write a lot lately, but I haven't known what to write.
I have been thinking about all the various things in my life... the themes of my personal life, the systems and institutions I have embedded myself within, the society at large... but I wish I could think about other stuff... something more creative or adventurous.
Like the other night I thought about becoming a wandering street healer... first I would study various kinds of healing, acupressure, reiki, some holistic stuff, some spiritual shaman stuff... you know all the miraculous and natural.  Then I would plop myself down on a busy thoroughfare and offer my services. I'd perform it like an act so people wouldn't get offended if I didn't cure their cancer... but the majority of it would probably work to some extent... people need good energy and connection and not much else right?  I could give people some time and attention and they would feel better and tip me a few bucks here and there.

Two of my roommates might be moving out. One to a new house he is buying, and one to Oregon.  Times they are a changing.
`Could be some dramatic changes at work next year too if things go right...

i dunno this is boring. my computer is acting weird and im not impressed  with any of this writing.

so you dont think the only thind i do is whine

no idea who or what  but i think its finished

and because I like to be the epitome of what I mean

So every few years I like the therapize myself... I guess I really need it right now again, but instead I am reading this dumb book.
Anywho, I am sitting there wondering why I am so not confident enough to talk to anyone, and also what my core issues are about... I mean I can think it and say it a million times, but I guess I am just not able to use it to my advantage in the way I need to, so I keep thinking about it right?

So I am trying to figure out what injury was done to me, and the book goes with all the extremes of sexual abuse and neglect and like Gaius Balter I am wishing I was a cylon, but its just not true...
so if that shoe doesn't fit, what is the deal?
and I start wondering about this need to talk it out, and also being so deeply scared of that...
there is a guy named Ray who is at the coffee shop, he is an older light skinned black man (at least I assume so). He wears the same outfit every time, dark hat, dark sunglasses, blue shirt, cane.
He sits there, no book or nothing, he looks around the room, I am sure he is staring at people behind those sunglasses and I want to say HI, but not much more... I want to acknowledge his presence as a person, but not be vulnerable enough to have a conversation... but Ray does ask, he asks the woman who seems to be shopping on her computer if there is anything good on the computer... he asks the little girls about school, and he asks the barista a question or two,   and greets anyone who seems familiar enough.... Ray says goodbye twice to the barista before he leaves, even though she is busy and in the second response, she replies "have a good night Ray" with a little forced concern, but also knowing that that is what he needs. 
And I am Ray, or I sit there and wonder if I am Ray, or will be Ray in 20 years... because I want to talk to all the same people, and ask them questions even though they are "busy" and I want to break the ice, and I want someone to say goodbye to me, and I want someone to say hello and how are you and mean it... but these are the things I don't know how to get... -the way I want them, so I am tempted to cry. Because, like Ray, whose name I know because he said goodbye twice, I  need someone to talk to... to spill out all of my ideas and insecurities and shallowness, and deepness... but somewhere a long time ago I was told that was needy...
like everyone responds to Ray like he is needy.
and because it is needy, I was taught you have to offer people something to make it worth their while... and because I don't know what they need, I don't offer me.

Emotionally I need a partner. I always have, but I was called a motor mouth and told to shut up, so instead I just drove myself nuts and asked my fantasies a thousand questions instead of the real people.  My neediness, became my worthlessness, my shame, my failure as a person.
I act upon this self-concept every day, it has totally shaped my life.
I make friends based on it.  My work is based on it. My anxiety is run around in circles because of it. I treat some people with contempt because of it.  I treat others like they are sacred. I treat others like they are outside my realm of understanding based on it. 

ok, so I realize this... now what?
Can I build some other sort of paradigm, can I be like Daniel Quinn and realize all people are needy, and worthy?
Knowing that, does it change anything?  Do I still feel like I can't share my actual thoughts, feelings, cant reach out, etc...

Now what book?

I like the barista's giant eyes

I am sitting in a coffee shop. As always I guess...
I have a list of things to do. One of them is sort of paper I need to write for re-licensure. A statement showing my growth as a teacher. Its hard to know exactly what to write, I mean I would like to be honest and give a real reflection of my growth...
I started a bit too naive and a bit too needy as a teacher. As much as I was aware of it and tried to caution against it, I wanted my students to be my friends. I no longer desire this. My students seem to me to be children, immature and not always very intelligent or reflective. I once thought, oh wow the things I could learn from my fellow human beings (though they be a few years younger than I). I now worry I have lost a little too much of my curiosity, and somewhat long to have that idea that I would learn directly from my students back. I do learn from them, I learn how to push and pull, how to motivate one group of them and then realize that the next group won't be motivated in the same way, so I must adapt and grow myself. I change to meet them but I also have learned that I need to set boundaries on which things I am willing to concede on... I am willing to concede on teaching that one lesson that I personally love, because I believe very firmly that this other one is more important for this batch of students.  I am willing to concede perfect grammar, because I would like this student to realize they don't have to be perfect to get their ideas out... that the world would rather they engage than withhold. In fact the world will reward their engagement, even if rough around the edges...
I have also learned that text books and "facts" have nothing on life lessons... life lessons, paradigm shifts, real critical thinking sometimes requires some evidence, but the evidence itself is not the important piece. I have also learned that tests are bullshit. I mean, already knew that, but as a student I succeeded at taking tests, so I didn't feel the real anguish behind the scenes... now I have my license threatened every time a student slips up during a test... and the real life consequences of variables beyond my control reminds me that these students are being rewarded or punished for things beyond their control... I am becoming more and more convinced that traditional education doesn't serve students, or our society... there is a disconnect there and it is growing on both ends...
Strangely, I am also learning that being an alternative school teacher and being on the front lines of that battle, doesn't afford me enough access to challenge the mainstream, to make the changes I would like to see. I am starting to believe I will have to move away from the students who need help the most, in order to make the most change for all.
That is something I could write... but it won't be what I write... because that is not scientifically backed up... anthropology is not a trusted science.

I have a bunch of ME work to do too... reading a book that challenges my core concepts of self... what the hell am I supposed to do with that? The book assigns written dialogues... I am to write a play between the characters of my mind... all the examples in the book end up with the true self winning, but I am not so sure I am there yet... in fact I would say nightly I recognize I am not there yet.

I  assigned myself a project at SoT today. Over the next three months Grant will be gone, and the idea is that 4 of us each take a few weeks.... Pete started and asked about prophetic practices in our lives... the times we act as if its the better world we believe in. So I was sitting there thinking, ah man I gotta remember all the questions so I don't repeat any... maybe I should write a blog post each week so that I know what we have already reflected on... and then I sat down to write one and totally thought... I am full of myself, no one wants to read this.

I think this plays into the ME work... 

I am having a hard time with one of the chapters I read today... it has nothing to do with what I am thinking about because of course I shouldn't take it so black and white, but the author described living out a fantasy life instead of a real one... and this is soooooooo me.  How often do I sit and ask fantasy people questions instead of venturing to ask the actual person in front of me. 
The guy at Leaann Chin who I wanted to talk to because I felt like I should, because he is always nice when I am there and for a second we pretend like we are friends and then he gives me a free pop which I always feel weird about taking... or the guy I gave bus money to, because I was afraid to give him a ride home... or Huck who came to SoT today, or the girl who works here who was a student at my school before I got there... or the current barista who stared at me a few weeks ago while I was leaving so I wondered who she was... and today is the first time I have seen her since... and I want to ask her questions about her existence... but I also don't want to be creepy. Now she just caught me staring twice... so I definitely went creepy.

Is this the low self esteem thing, or the growing up in MN where no one wants to disturb anyone else thing, or the knowing that baristas aren't actually flirting with coffee shop goers thing, or the knowing that I don't want my fantasies bursted, or the combination of all of these?

But for someone who enjoys fantasy, but also realizes this might impair reality situations... where should the line be?

I have a lot of self control, but not enough to keep from looking... but if what I really want is real intimacy, validation of the real and appropriate, complexity not the simple... why I am so afraid of everything.

Oh I also have to do laundry, and keep reading this annoying book and finish some art, and call some friends to set up plans for the future. 

Its pretty weird when you are not sure whether you want to cry, laugh or just stare...

A friend told me she broke down and became hysterical- and I realized I haven't done that in a long time... if ever. Even my hysterical moments look more like implosion than ex.

this is me staring widely at a computer camera

 

on and on

Been enjoying this song lately, its hard when the last song on the cd is the one you are craving, because you go through the cd, and its great but it builds to that point, sometimes space in and sometimes space out and then you hit the song, and then its over and you have to click through the buttons to set it up again.



Yesterday I spent like 3 hours water-coloring, I wouldn't say I was happy with the results, but I sure was happy for the time, and now its friday, the last of the days of spring break (excluding normal weekends)... and I DID accomplish a few things, but sure would love another week to myself. 

I am pretty much thinking I am going to take a trip to Ireland and maybe parts of Scandinavia over the summer... just cuz I can. It will hold me over till I can head to South America. Shouldn't cost as much as I had planned to spend.

My living situation may be pretty different this summer... one or two of my  housemates may be moving out. One is buying a house (if things go right), the other may move to Oregon.  I appreciate the idea of people moving into their lives, but it sure is a sad day to feel left behind.  Who knows if I will stay in this location, or move up in the world. 
The main benefit of staying (besides not having to move) is that I have the cheapest rent in the city right now (or it feels that way at least).  I think I could live here for quite a while even without a job. The amount I spend on rent  is approximately the amount I save each year in my savings account... which is probably more than most, but not a lot of money. 
I understand this is interesting to no one, but I sometimes write down my current thoughts and actions as documentation that I existed... and that life is mundane... got me? 
Anyway, I could afford a bigger room, and less roommates and maybe adequate storage space... but who needs any of that when you don't have a companion to impress?

There isn't really much else going on I guess... Lots of shifts in relationships, some people going through major things, but I don't get caught up in other people's stuff as much as I used to.   I am actually a little annoyed with my lack of drama, lack of curiosity in people, and general lack of interest in novelty for novelties sake...

anyway... 

I am not having a baby, not moving away, not taking dramatic travels, not changing jobs, not dating and not really hung up too much... so life goes 

working a program

First of all, to whoever is reading this in Washington, I don't know if I know you or not, but I suggest you don't check this blog or the poetry one so often, as it will only lead to disappointment. 
Perhaps like me, you just run a circuit of websites that you check every day or every few days and its no big deal. But this one is only updated every now and then, and that poetry one sometimes goes months without an update.

Listening to Alt-J
Did my taxes using Turbotax. I am a little worried I did it wrong, but whatever. 
Read Providence by Daniel Quinn  it was displayed at the store as if it was new, but I looked later and it has been out for quite a while.  I really liked it.   There was a good poem like piece in there about death... that I want to hide under my pillow in case you find my decaying head upon it. 

Anyway, Quinn seems really familiar, his attempts at perfection and religiosity.

I talked to Ben today about similar things. We are very alike in that way... both striving to be better and starting little projects to see if we can create perfection because we don't feel it inside. 

And yet.... the post's title,   I have not been working a program... but I am wondering if I should be. Part of me still thinks the Gods reward good behavior, that providence will shine upon a man who chooses to give up his demons... though perhaps this is all just a jumble of little kid thoughts similar to the compulsions. 

I have often asked myself if I am an addict.  I am reading this book Breaking the Cycle  
and of course I find parts of it really helpful. The author is big on Eckhart Tolle, and I should probably reread those books... but in the mean time, I find this subject directed approach to be helpful.  After all I read a chapter or two that touched my heart in an uncomfortable way and couldn't pick up the book again for several days.  In the meantime I was perfectly comfortable going back to the validation of porn sites.   But then I read other sections that make me question if this is an addiction or just a dry spell in my relationship life... Is it affecting more work? my money? the way I approach people? my family and friends?  Is it keeping me from pursuing hobbies and interests? new projects?    
NO to all of that.  I am very satisfied in most of those areas...
is my self esteem in certain areas pretty shite? do I go into cycles of shame and reaction? do I worry about my voyeuristic tendencies? do I worry about my lack of boundaries and that someday I may be perceived as a monster?   YES to all of that.... 

So if some of it applies and some doesn't... am I a foot over the cliff or not even close to the edge? 

In the Daniel Quinn book he describes being in his 30s in psychotherapy still feeling like a complete waste of space, like everything is wrong with him... and he challenges his therapist to tell him what she sees in him that convinces her "he isn't really all that bad off".... she says that is for him to figure out... 
he leaves in despair,  on the bus ride home he starts trying to make a list of his good qualities, and suddenly he never has a self esteem problem again.  Before writing the list he believes he won't be able to write a single thing, but he comes up with tons of things.... and though he later thinks some of them are a little lame... he realizes he is normal enough.   and if he is normal... than what he craves is what all people crave. Attention, love, validation... and he can give that.  A week later he meets a woman, asks her on a date and later they get married. This is part of the providence he finds in his life. 
Could it be so easy to find the right life partner?


Who can know anything for sure,
tomorrow may be the day I meet her, 
flower petals open, delight, and sneezes,
songs in coffee shops create joyful tears and legs bruises (from the tapping),
buses and drunk drivers hit people all the time, better to have notes tucked in pockets and under pillows than none at all.
That way you'll know what to do with my body, my love and your tears (if you have any to share).

Shouldn't have had that can of coke

I fell asleep from like 6-9 or something and then drank some caffeine so my brain will not shut up.
I am reading a book on sex addiction, the author suggests an activity of "turning the lights on, in your auditorium"
It sounds dumb, but kind of makes sense. If there is a voice in your head somewhere telling you what to to, what to believe, how to think about things, and you are pretty sure that voice is working against you... turn on the lights and find out which of the audience members (the parts of your personality) is actually speaking.  In this case, is it the 11 year old who's first experience of sexuality was pictures on the internet?  Is it the 15 year old who is convinced he will never get a girl friend?  
But in a larger sense, is it the part of you that ran away in one situation, and now can't remember all the times you stood still, or fought back, or made things better?  Is it the part of you that isolates to avoid vulnerability, when what you want is connection?      well, turn on the lights and find out.... and then recognize the other voices that are possible, and decide which one you want to listen to.

Not easy...

I wasn't thinking about that though when I couldn't get to sleep. I was thinking about how disappointed and angry I am with SoT. I feel like we have all these big goals, and no follow through. I feel like people commit to things because we believe in them, but not because we want to actually do them, so we half ass it.  Its a sad organization sometimes.  I am currently the leader of it, and all around me I have watched it fall apart since "taking the reigns"  and I sometimes feel like its my fault... but when I look at the other people, I see how they avoided following through, how they neglected their responsibilities, how one by one we have all lost spirit... and I am wondering why I should care... and definitely mad that even part of me blames myself... but mostly I am just annoyed and exhausted, the world is hard to change.   In progressive movements there is often this idea that the people most affected by things shouldn't be the only ones fighting, but one of the necessary factors to fight is having skin in the game... well, its hard to constantly remind yourself of all the ways you are being hurt by injustice, when you can so easily escape into watching tv or whatever...

My job is exhausting. We are trying to change habits, skill levels, mind sets... we are doing too much and have too much invested in outcomes... and when my goal is nothing less than changing the world.... 

-I had a student today say something to the equivalent of "Why would you rape someone, when you can get pussy for free?"   -which in his mind was an anti-rape comment... 
-I had a 16 year old ask me what homosexuality and heterosexuality were, because he hadn't heard the terms before, "Oh you mean straight and gay, that's cool"
-None of these kids understood why anyone would be against marriage equality, but half of them use the term "gay" to mean stupid, and I am sure the men call each other "fags" all the time to reinforce their idea of masculinity.
-In a class room with 6 students I repeatedly had to tell them to raise their hands because they continued to talk over each other for an entire hour.
-A good portion of my school think the Illuminati are real, a few think Jewish people rule the world.
-I had a kid today say he didn't need to learn to budget because he was going to be a rapper.  Last week I asked him if he had ever performed in front of an audience and he said no. I asked him if he had had opportunities and he said he always turned them down because they were beneath him.
-1 page of notes is a lot, but most of them think they will do fine in college.
-Reading 10 pages in class is too much, reading a paragraph out loud is too much, editing their writing is always too much.

No matter how good the day is, no matter how good the discussions, or how good the community is going, this is the constant, the background, the baseline... and yes we rise above it, but we sink below it some days too.

and on the side I am supposed to rally adults to be inspired about causes and actions, knowing full well, they also do jobs like this. ooh... its not sustainable.

this whole damn system aint sustainable.



On the upside...
My roommate's band made a sort of promo-music video today... and it was awesome. I got to be the shaky camera man.
 

March

I am going to drug myself to sleep soon. Hopefully that will work, my day time meds are wearing off and I have been having trouble sleeping with this cold.
Today I was thinking of what my better self must look like.  Sometime yesterday or the day before I thought about how some people have had this idea of me at my best, and are disappointed with who I am now.  It occurred to me that I was in a relationship when they first knew me, and maybe there is something about having support like that, that brings out a boys better side.
 Lately I have been feeling just fine, but all around me shit seems pretty fucked... I guess more specifically with public ventures... works.
I don't know how to push SoT along and I don't always know if I want to. We are limping, we came up with a big plan, but I don't think we have the strength to make it happen without more support and that hasn't really surfaced. I am already feeling taxed by school, I don't even want to wake up on Sundays.
My Stepdad and Stepbrother are leaving to take a 3 month trip on motorcycles down to Argentina... sounds great.
 I think next year will be my last year at school. I think I have to make it that, or I will never leave. We may not even have a next year if we can't make shit happen... but I feel like I want to see it through at least that far.
I turn 30 next year, seems like a good time to throw your life into disarray. Maybe I will travel, maybe find a new job, maybe go back to school... who knows.

Spring break starts after this next week... I could have left, but I think I am going to use it to do all the things I haven't been doing.... oil change, dentist appointment, read a book or two, maybe go on a date or something who knows.
I think this is probably what I would sound like on a date... 

thoughts at the shop

You are beautiful
I wonder if you know it
I wonder if you wake each morning feeling groggy
I wonder if you force yourself out of bed
I wonder if in front of the mirror, you tear yourself apart
analyzing the terrain, intending to smooth cracks in the unfired clay
I wonder if clothes are a costume, a burden
I wonder if your shoes are comfortable or just aesthetically pleasing
I wonder if you put on a voice to meet strangers
I wonder if you dance, in the flow of your passion
or whether each step is an effort, paid indenture
Is your smile an invitation, bridge to your heart,
or like the plastic I pass you to keep our hands at distance?

same old same old

I made a goal of not looking at porn for a month, specifically this month. I failed after ten days. I found I was becoming more and more shallow, voyeuristic in my real life, agitated by silly situations, and opportunistic of certain kinds of moments.

Years ago, when I was a teenager I found that I could justify my porn use by acknowledging that it allowed me to treat my friends with more dignity and respect. I think I am still using that excuse, whether it is real or not… it certainly feels real.

This confession is not what I wanted to talk about. Of course all of it is related, and in this case, I find concrete examples are sometimes necessary when dealing with larger issues of life and spirit. Concretely I set a goal, a values-based goal, a spiritual goal, a test of will and failed… perhaps one could argue that I didn’t find the test was meeting my desired goal… but perhaps it’s just a failure of will.

So let’s move on. Lately I have been reading a lot of Sufi writings. I find Sufism to be extremely relational, touching to the spirit and inspiring. Unlike much of the legal doctrines of Islam, the Spiritual traditions really grab a person on a soul level. Legalistic Islam, can be a wonderful intellectual pursuit, to understand why a doctrine is the way it is, to understand the benefit to the individual and the community. These things are great, and ought to be acknowledged, but Sufism is like a wizard’s spell when all you knew is science, and the nice thing is that so many of these wizards believe in explaining their craft.

I also find, that Sufism, relates to other forms of spirituality better. Islam comes very distinctly from Arabian culture/mixed later with the Hellenistic, Persian and Indian classics. It is dynamic, but institutionalized, Sufism flips that and keeps the dynamism while trying to defend itself -sometimes unsuccessfully from the dogma. The treatises explain the poetics, but the Sufi continues the spiritual pursuit regardless…

and what is the spiritual pursuit?
To recognize what submission to the Divine Unity truly means… to become the perfect human –bridge back to the Divine, to be the mirror in which the Divine sees itself… And the ecstatic acknowledges that in true Oneness, there is no other… thus God is all and all is God. This differs so much from the legalistic Abrahamic “God the father” traditions… it looks a lot more like Hinduism or various forms of animism. To spend your time trying to recognize God in all… well that seems like a good pursuit.

Different Sufi’s have ideas of how to do that:
Some deny the reality of this world, believing that it is an illusion (like Buddhism) and that attachment to the illusion causes distraction from God.

Some believe to acknowledge distraction itself would be a form of denying the divine unity, so they move from place to place seeking out the thin points in the veil, but knowing that every opportunity is the time to recognize God.

Some pursue humanitarian good, trying to reform systems of oppression, healing the sick, teaching at universities, or taking on students (as Buddha and Confucius did).

 But most are treated (though they may have home bases) as being wanderers who pursued God above all status positions, above all relationships and above all worldly wants.

Each person of course has a slightly different idea of what is right and wrong, of what is desirable, obtainable, etc. The path isn’t for all, and many of the stories of the Sufi’s are stories of turning down students, of being turned away themselves. Of staying humble to be on the path, and of being righteous to recognize what is not the path. To wake up every day with the desire to be used by God (to have a relationship with God) but then to also simultaneously believe that in the end, there is nothing but God… so who is asking? And to whom?

I find this focus to be especially warming to my heart in many cases… not that ego-centered “I am God” piece, but the idea that one cannot help but be connected with God, because we are made up of God, because we are energized by God, because God creates/renews, sustains and destroys us in each moment. Because the separation is in our heads…

And yet I am troubled, because the separation is so strong in my head… that lately I have been reading books and singing mantras, and listening to spiritual teachers and occasionally having good conversations… but in all other times I feel disconnected and lost. I feel lost in myself, my shallow ambitions, shallow projections, shallow thoughts and beliefs, my shallow actions keep me apart and because I am so shallow I feel like I have nothing to offer, or nothing left to offer… so I disconnect further. And maybe it is a lack of will, I see nothing in myself and nothing in the other, save when I see God… so when I do not see God, there is no desire except the shallow. A cycle of deep connection that cannot be sustained (or rather isn’t being) and a pit of muck, separation.

 I wouldn’t say this is hell… I don’t actually feel despair… I feel exhausted from the effort. I go long periods of time longing for comfort and don’t get it because I have such a shallow view of what it should look/feel like. I have been here before… and had to go lower and lower, until I wasn’t myself… until I was sustained only on the smiles of others… but I don’t think that is the answer this time.

Time

Time has also been the big riddle to me lately… A few weeks back I had this experience where suddenly the idea of time didn’t need to exist… and it felt right. It felt like time is the ego. I watched a movie last night where the character actually said “Time is the sin” before he died… and that seems somehow right… and yet I am not sure how far to take this concept. I watched a spiritual teacher on youtube talk about how time is non-existent to God, and should be to us if we want to relate to God, or recognize God in ourselves, or be the mirror to God… because otherwise we depend on the before and after… we make excuses etc… and this gels with a lot of spiritual teachings about “living in the now” but really he was saying more than that. He was saying there is no before and after because Now is all that ever exists… and the idea of time passing doesn’t actually happen on a larger scale… energy is not destroyed, doesn’t age, simply changes form… and if we are energy than we are energy and need to stop believing in the illusory, the attachment to the idol of the material, the meaningless, the non-existent.

According to this teacher, God doesn’t recognize the illusory, and neither should we. And I find this troublesome because I like the idea of time not existing, on a mental level it makes sense, I have even been blessed with a moment or two of feeling it…or recognizing that it a false and changeable concept… but to acknowledge that the material doesn’t exist is so much harder for my soul to understand…
Buddhism teaches us not to get attached to the material because it causes us pain and ultimately doesn’t matter and I can acknowledge this because it is saying there is a material that doesn’t matter…(this is the lay person explanation, thought underneath I think it is just the nice way of saying that the material never existed) but to deny the very illusion of the material seems too hard for me to experience.

 In the moment I lose myself, and find an hour later I am that much more judgmental, shallow and spiteful. I feel detachment but from what? If I am energy (and I can recognize this on an intellectual level), than why can’t I feel it all the time… why do I feel separate?

This is the sin, the only sin, the sin in every religion, Separation. Time is a separation so it is sinful, but so is space, so is the sensory/material… but I love it, I am attached to it, I desire it, and it gives me meaning… makes me feel things etc…
I know that these things are but a fraction of the whole… and therefor I need to redirect my attention to the whole… but I tried to deny porn for 31 days and couldn’t control myself, couldn’t will my way through it to the greater potential… so how do I do it with everything?

Every religion offers an answer; most say a combination of experience and denial, of meditation and slight changes till mastery. I can see this in my every day experiences…

If I don’t have a tv, I don’t often find myself obsessed with it. If I don’t have a certain cd, over time I forget its importance to me, if I don’t see a friend for a while -some of them leave my mind. Sometimes it is in fact the moment of remembrance (the reconnection) that is the most painful (but often the most joyful as well…) Perhaps if I didn’t have a mirror, I wouldn’t judge my physical appearance so much. If I didn’t have an okcupid/tumblr/facebook/youtube/blog/email etc I wouldn’t be so attached to them. If I didn’t have books I wouldn’t want to read them. If I didn’t have computer games I wouldn’t want to play them, if I didn’t have candy I wouldn’t want to eat it (tried and failed many times), but in all maybe it’s just a matter of temperance.

 I often wonder if I became more physically undesirable whether I would stop wanting to pursue that… like if my face was ripped off, would I suddenly give up on the shallow aspects of relationships… or would I just become more of a hermit. If I were in prison would I be more free? If I were “disabled” would I be enabled to pursue higher things?

Anyway… I am drawn to spiritual teachings I can’t always experience, and it is driving me a little bonkers… I think partially because I don’t have anyone to explore them with… but it requires a lot of trust to pursue a spiritual relationship with another person.

And sometimes when I think back on the relationships I have had, I recognize that that was my pursuit despite the other variables… and perhaps that is what I have felt is missing in my life lately.

Sometimes invisible cats pee on my clothes when they sit on the floor too long.

I think it just means my carpet needs to be cleaned, but there is something really amusing about the idea.

Last night a barista flirted with me, I am sure that meant nothing. In fact I think I saw her flirt with like 4 other people, but she watched me leave making eye contact the entire time, and said goodbye twice... and that is how a person gets regulars to give them more tips.

I woke up this morning at 8:30 and couldn't get back to sleep. 
Thinking about Divine Unity
Thinking about a class to teach
Thinking about writing a movie.

I woke up after a while, to my surprise it was 2:00 PM.  Now I have wasted half the day... but since I didn't have plans... maybe I will go to a coffee shop.

4 or 5

A) My room is like some weird vortex lately, a one way moving escalator that reverse upon morning, but in the late afternoon just doesn't have an exit. I came home with every intention of leaving again, go to the coffee shop was the agenda the entire day.... I made several calls and texts before I got home, intending to keep working on them... and now I don't even want to pick up the phone when people call back... its annoying that I can't seem to get things done, the moment I enter the no motivation black hole.

B) I have been in a better mood. I think it started right around the time I realized I had very few friends and needed to start being open about what was bothering ... go figure right?
I still don't know what I am doing with my life, but suddenly that feels less important... just continue to reach out occasionally and all is well no?

C) I am trying to avoid visually arousing material this month. Its more difficult than I imagine when I think these kinds of goals up.

D)  I heard another version of this song recently and it reminded me how beautiful this it is...  I looked up covers because I think some of the extra side effects kind of distract from how beautiful the song is   but its hard because how do you cover Frusciante?    this guy tried its not amazing, but its pretty decent...  One of my former students tried a Frusciante song here.  I am trying to get him to continue and make a series of them.

E) I have been watching this a lot lately

other things...
Sure been a full life for me

disturbing

I had a series of mostly violent, science fiction dreams last night.
They are fading from memory, but throughout the night had a lot of cohesion, each story wound its way into the next, the context was given, so each new element added color to the story.

I think I played the main character in each segment because I could remember their feelings, their perception of things... some of it was so real that I woke startled... for instance the torture scene... it just didn't feel too good.

In waking, I can recognize elements of the story from things I have seen in real life, video games, movies, news stories, books... but it also had a real life quality to it that was hard to shake.

The story began after a world event of massive destruction.  9 of the worlds leaders had been targeted, all 9 had been killed at the exact same time, sometimes by incredibly awful means. The idea was to inspire terror in the leadership. The same thing had happened to the world's richest men.

It was midnight, I was aware that this had occurred, whether I had prior knowledge or not, I knew that I needed to leave quickly. My St Paul apartment would quickly be compromised, as it was also the dwelling of the Vice President (now made President). He used the apartment for secret parties and affairs, but it would need to be scrubbed before the media confirmed that he was indeed alive and well.  Would they search the other apartments? They were on lockdown within minutes.

I could already hear the guards pulling up outside the building, but knew that they were not coordinated enough to know what to look for yet.  I had my things, by 3 AM, I snuck out the back way, there were guards, 3 soldiers and a military jeep, but they didn't notice.   I was walking towards Minneapolis. It was not a warm day yet, on each corner soldiers were being posted, this was full scale war until further notice, the army had responded quickly but still had no information on what to look for. A guy walking around in the morning in his own city doesn't look suspicious.  I knew I was meeting up with folks, continuing my life, but had to wait until a proper time to start the real day.
I stopped in at a store or two, my mind was racing about the plan.

The plan was simple and yet complex. No one knew who was involved, no one knew how it started and no one knew if it truly would work. 170 operatives, vaguely I knew I was involved but had no idea whether I had recruited the operatives or if I was one of them.  I knew I had not been directly involved in any of the murders the previous day, but I also knew that they would happen. I knew like I knew what would happen next.  PANIC
The idea was to instill fear in the leadership, in the rich and powerful. The people would be told the only way to ensure their own safety was to level the playing field. If by chance you happen to be in the same room with the wealthy man of your city, there was no way of knowing whether you would be blown up, or gassed, or given some disgusting bacterial disease. Our operatives were fully equipped with all types of weaponry. How did I know this? I didn't, but I did.
The rich and powerful would be told to step down. To give up their wealth, to roll over and play dead.
They wouldn't of course. So yearly this would happen.
18 of the rich and powerful, every year, with independent slayings happening all the time by the citizenry. How long till every system fell?

The war was on.

I didn't know my part, suddenly I remembered the only evidence to my involvement was on my phone, a coded poem.  An "assignment" for class, I checked my pocket and began to laugh... I had left it in the apartment. Would they search it?   Would they know?

My character spent the next few weeks wondering  about that while a general state of emergency tried to still the panic.  Eventually the army got word of where he was, and offered to return the phone.

*****There were a series of shorter dreams that played a part but that I can't remember*****

Finale

The war has been going for years... It is hard to know how many because technology has advanced, along with the militarism of the state. This is not the world we know.
I am a woman, I believe the Grand daughter of the first character. I am an operative, but I do not know my mission. We operate like Manchurian Candidates, we know just enough of the whole plan to keep up to date, but nothing of our own mission, nor that of our fellow operatives.

I am on the run. Through a series of awful encounters, I am aware that I have very little regard for human life, and neither do they.
I am captured

The torture is quick, but prolonged (I will explain).

I remember all types of pain but it wasn't until they started directly meddling with my brain that I spoke up. They were triggering vocal responses directly by applying electricity to different areas of my brain. I was furious... it all came out. 170 operatives *maybe more now, but all I knew was what every operative knew. Every year. Operatives were worthless once they had completed their mission, they would sink back into public life, kill themselves or wait to be reassigned. They were supposed to make it as graphic and violent as possible so no one would want that kind of death.  I did not know when it would stop. I did not know who started it.

I was the first operative to be captured and successfully mined for information, a wound to my pride. But within moments I saw and felt the most awful thing... They removed my brain from my skull. The lid of my head plopped back into place loudly.  I had no awareness and yet knew I was dying.
I tried to think of how anything was possible but couldn't think...

I saw myself in the mirror, I knew that I was restrained, the men came over and began to cut into my flesh, to saw through my head, they removed my brain, and my body fell over.

I saw myself in the mirror, I knew that I was restrained, the men came over and began to cut into my flesh, to saw through my head, they removed my brain, and my body fell over.

I saw myself in the mirror, I knew that I was restrained, the men came over and began to cut into my flesh, to saw through my head, they removed my brain, and my body fell over.

I saw myself in the mirror, each time my face changed slightly darker, slightly more grotesque, I knew that I was restrained. The men came over and flourished in their duty of inflicting pain, cutting into me, they had become artists in their mastery of torture, it was like a beautiful show designed to get the bad guy... or girl,  me.  They removed my brain, and my body fell over.

Each time I watched I became subtly more aware of the production and style. The slight alterations to the show. Each time I had no choice but to face the torment, to die.

I saw myself in the mirror, this time I was talking to them my tormentors. I asked them please do these things, cure me of myself. I saw that I had horns, two growing out of my forehead, another from my chin, and two from my temples. These were artificially grown, obviously didn't belong, but my voice was pleading with them to save me from myself.  They began the torture, only this time it was the removal of my demonhood, and I cheered them on. As each horn was removed I became more and more innocent looking... but lastly they had to put me down... it was an act of mercy. They removed my brain, and my body fell over.

The act repeated itself... I was a thousand clones and each time the army that would punish me turned out to be my saviors. This was propaganda for the masses. I had no idea if it worked or not. Only that each time was as painful, each time was the only thing I experienced. A few minutes of the procedure before I was destroyed again. The world continues this way.

I have lots of thoughts

Lets see if I can get them out...

not that they are important.

I have a list of things to do: 
laundry and cleaning
letters and post cards
Continuing education credits
pick up my roommate
conference call
read and write
paint more
paint my nails

I am talking to Melissa who is in scotland again for school...
It is making me feel less like writing. 

Anyway...  sorry this doesn't matter at all

Gumballs, street performers, sufis and smiles

First of all this is amazing... there is still a part of me that wants to be a street performer



Second, there is part of me that wants to be a wandering ascetic.

Third when I feel all spiritual, I really enjoy your smile.





I am teaching Islam in World Religions class, mental disorders in Psych and unions in US history.
I am worried about certain aspects of my job, but I love these topics... I just love to see students engaged and question. I love to be able to share with them the things I find beautiful and interesting and feel passion for...

I was reading about all these Sufis tonight.... I don't know I just felt really inspired.  I kept wanting to talk to the people around me, wanted to tell them they were beautiful, wanted to see more and feel more and be more.

I don't know if my attachment to this world is good or bad, it feels so right, how could it be wrong?
Some of the mystics were killed for being blasphemers when they became so intoxicated with God that they declared themselves and all around them one, the ultimate unity of God is when there is no division, and to the outsider this is blasphemy... but what would that feel like?
I miss you. 

I think I may have figured it out, now whats the solution?

An hour or two ago I was writing myself notes and asked myself if this were a new beginning or just a place in the cycle I have already been to, but don't recognize. In either case, I wrote that I would be satisfied to name it, to know it, to be able to recognize something as true is just so helpful...

On the way home I was thinking about my issue with irritability lately, I was cross referencing with the things I desire lately, I was thinking about the things I have lost lately, I was thinking about the things that are absent. CLICK
perhaps, a click, perhaps the wheels all locked into place and I recognized what has happened. Perhaps a few months ago I was setting myself up for a future in which I walked away, and in the process I was walking away from all of my friendships, gradually toning them down. I wasn't necessarily not answering phone calls or texts, but I was not necessarily engaged either. I remember thinking in conversations "What am I doing here? I am not even contributing anything."  and it was so... the other day I was caught by a girl asking questions of her friends, whether she just wanted to talk and was polite I couldn't tell, but she kept asking them questions... and this seemed nice.  I have been tearing down the relationships that offered me comfort, ready to start something new, and then it stalled. I stalled... I fell back into the pattern out of my sense of duty. I wasn't necessarily excited by it, but I enjoyed the moment well enough that it didn't feel like too much of a loss, but as the time has passed, letters not sent back, questions not answered, relationships not engaged with...
I am feeling more and more alone, I am feeling more and more irritable. I withdrew and now wonder why I am so pitiful.
Sometimes the tiniest things seem like effort, its not that I can't do them, can't get out of bed or whatever... its that I find them annoying... because I haven't got all my needs met, inside my mind says "why meet the needs of others?"  or whatever.

Why branch out if it won't complete the puzzle, why give of the precious little, when it won't be repaid... because I haven't been asking for repayment. I haven't been asking for my needs to be met. I haven't asked, engaged, sought out something reciprocal... and thus I am irritable.
playing the role, and not getting the fulfillment of the part.

It makes sense why I want to "love," I just want someone who wants to know me, who will listen, who will indulge me.

This is a cycle, this is somewhere I have been... but now what to do about it?
I don't very well know how to make friends or lovers, as I wrote earlier today... every one was already negotiated before I asked.

beautiful song slowed down

I love this song already, but someone slowed it by 35 % which makes it almost more hauntingly beautiful




I could write a poem to this.  Like I did with falling...

Someone named mike woke up on the wrong side of the bed

Its not that I actually am angry today I am just easily irritated. Like does anyone know how to drive today? 
I overheard a couple on a first date and was really glad it wasn't me. Not that it was SO bad, but I was just annoyed.
I overheard some other people talking and I thought, wow it would be really nice to have curious friends.
Then I thought about how I evade people like that, or sideswipe their questions.

I wrote down a whole series of thoughts on that topic that I have been thinking about. I will probably type them out later for posterity or whatever...
but one thing I didn't write down was the brief interaction I had at the bookstore last night. Not that it really matters, but I thought it was funny.
I was buying this book by the Dalai Lama  and the girl at the counter said "Oh I just finished this." I asked if it was any good she said yes but it got a little repetitive. Then I said yeah I find some of his stuff to be like that, but maybe its a Buddhist thing, like you get used to repeating mantras, to which she responded, well it does help you keep it in mind.
Then as I was walking out, I thought about how we all have the tendency to do that, to write down the same thing over and over and over... I am sure this thought is typed somewhere on this blog.

At the coffee shop today the curious people were talking about "exactly how much attention can be expected by a significant other" the girl was relating that she wished her boyfriend would show her more attention, especially emotionally. The boys, said that they thought it was important to check in, but between all the social media things, it didn't always make sense to have a conversation, because you probably already have a good idea of how the person is doing... and then they talked about how different relationships are these days compared to just 10-20 years ago (for their parents).  This while I was reading the Dalai Lama's take on technology and science and his emphasis on the intention behind creating new technology or pursuing science... that it must be geared for compassion not just growth or interest... and this lead me back to my writing... are conveniences allowing me to separate myself from others, creating shallower and shallower relationships etc?  
I don't think most people would describe me that way, but aren't I becoming it?

i really feel this song sometimes

What is it you are looking for right now?

Like really, tonight you have options, wealthy possibilities, up till 3- singing karaoke with a handful of homies, see a play or an improv show, hang in your room playing computer games, check out a film and have your mind blown, have a good cup of joe with a friend and play a game, eat some menchies or go to your brothers to make jokes and play drums, all of these things hold an element of fun. You could write for the next hour or two, you could read a chapter of a book and swim in fantasy through a painting, or a drawing, or a museum or a date. Each one promising an experience to relate, and what will you do? Secretly desiring to spend the night alone, hoping no one calls and no one is home.  Spend the evening in self-isolation, thinking about your loneliness, shame and separation. What reward is this firing of neurons in your brain, that likes pain, deprivation, refrains from enjoying conversation? Seems insane, disordered and discordant, spending all this energy to maintain a lack of enjoyment.

The difference of a day or two

January seemed so good, now I feel like I am fighting every day to try to keep a bit of that.  My mood shifted, maybe with the weather, but suddenly I am crabby and feel a strong desire to isolate. Its not even hibernation, with the exception of tonight I haven't been napping or anything.  I even stayed up too late this weekend one night.  But its weird, a week or so ago I felt like I had everything under control, felt really on top of my game, felt like I could handle what came... now I am stressed and irritated. I messed up something at work, situations get out of hand, relationships seem hard.  I don't want to see anyone and yet I feel incredibly lonely. The loneliness is hard because I have roommates who are right outside my door, and I could easily join their conversations or ask them to play a game or something... I should be doing more around the house. It makes me feel bad. I owe them money for small bills, I haven't paid in awhile but only cuz I haven't had cash.  But I don't really want to run errands, answer emails, run testing, grade papers, lesson plan. I am doing these things. I am doing them well (to some extent), but I don't want to... I want to be in love, or I want to be lost in a fantasy world, and neither of those options seem like a good "reality" right now. 

Tim introduced me to this Alt J, I kind of like it, sometimes I am a little annoyed but over all I like it. 
One of my students introduced me to this Andrew Jackson Jihad, which I also enjoy.


I want to write and read and draw and play computer games and listen to music and fuck off.