I feel like I owe the world a post. I’m too ridiculously happy not to. I may have mentioned I was dating somebody. Well, guess what – he is the pretty much the most amazing guy… EVER. Grrrrr. I don’t even want to talk about it. Goodness knows I think about him enough; best if those thoughts don’t get transferred to paper. Or internet.
So I guess I could talk about everything else.
Or I could talk about him.
Or not. ‘Cause, you know, I might say something dumb.
Screw it.
He’s amazing. He’s all I’ve been thinking about this past month. The walks to the park. And the airfield. The time we first kissed, and I said “Took you long enough” and he laughed. The way his face changes when he sees me. I swear, I can’t get rid of that stupid grin on my face, and neither can he. We like our stupid grins.
All I listen to now are love songs – most of them country, because he’s been showing those to me and they’re wonderful. Dang it, he’s wonderful. He walks me to at least one class each day, and we always race to the door to try to open it first. He tries to, but I beat him sometimes. 😀
I am now going to shut up. I hope you enjoyed this episode of rambling.

So, funny thing. I’m in a good mood, but I want to be a grouch. Mostly because I feel like being obnoxious. So this is me, grouching… and being bad at it because there is no one around to obnoxiate.
I’m having traveling itches again. I don’t really know what to do with them. It seems almost impossible that I could actually go somewhere. I’d like to go to school in Germany next year, but it’s one of those things that sound fantastic but never actually happen.
Although… seriously, why shouldn’t that work? I have to go to school somewhere. I could make it fit in with my engineering classes somehow.
I could do this.

So, remember what I said about the stuff I dream not being a good idea? Yeah. I dreamed about stabbing people. WHY did I dream about stabbing people??? It’s not really something I tend to do very often. Ever. You know.
In my defense, I was only stabbing vampires and monsters. Which is another weird thing. Vampires don’t even cross my mind most of the time. I think vampire books are stupid.
BTW, I hate chemistry, and chemistry tests, and everything.
And for the record, I’ve been up since 5:20 this morning, so I can be a grouch if I want.
And here are clouds.

I don’t really want to go back. I don’t want to go home and become an engineer and get married when I’m 25 and be stuck in the same place forever. I don’t care how comfortable it is. I really don’t know how to get out of it – except to do something completely drastic. I won’t say I don’t have any ideas, but I don’t think I’m that brave. It would really be so much easier to go back and do this. I’d pretty much have an assured future.
I wonder if maybe I don’t want a home.

I had the weirdest dream last night. Wait. Scratch that. This morning. I forgot, I went back to bed after being up for a couple of hours because I was so exhausted. Anyway, I was at Kevin’s house, and for some reason there was a letter I had written just laying around in his room, and someone had written a reply on it. I tried to see what it said, but I couldn’t really tell, although I made out the word “Boo!” at the beginning.
After that, I was at construction site (I don’t know how I got there) and I was meeting a bunch of people. It was weird though, because wherever I was, the tradition there was apparently to hold hands with everybody once I met them. Girls and guys. If you were going walking, and someone else was going the same direction, you held hands, regardless of the sex. I couldn’t get used to this and kept yanking away. Finally, this one guy I used to know (his sister had been the “good child” and he had been the “bad child”) came up and re-introduced himself, and I said, “Oh, so you’re the golden child now?” Because he was. He literally was. He was tanned – burned actually – and dressed like a surfer. Then he grabbed my hand, and I asked if this was normal, and he said yes. I didn’t like it, frankly. It was dry and scaly. But I don’t think I would have liked it under any circumstances. Then the scene changed again, or maybe it was just a new dream, and I was sitting half-naked in a bathtub set in the middle of a lumberyard waiting for a stomach operation.

–
I wish I were fearless. Fearless and courageous are two different things. Courageous is doing something even if you’re scared. Fearless is not being scared in the first place. Courageous? I hope so. Fearless? Not a chance. Being fearless would make everything a lot simpler. It might be unhappier in the end though, because you wouldn’t be scared of making mistakes. Of course, if you do just as many things while being courageous then you’re still screwed. You’re just tougher. As far as being respected, I’d rather be courageous. But I’m not sure I’m always that. Gaah, why am I thinking so much about things that don’t matter??? I’ll never be fearless. I don’t think anyone ever has been. And if they have, they were just stupid. Maybe I wouldn’t rather be fearless. But if I’m not fearless, I better make up for it somehow.
For example, at my black belt test. It’s in 5 days, 12 hours, and 11 minutes. Hey, they count down like that until Christmas, right? Anyway, I’m going to do well. I have to. I’m scared to death, and that’s exactly why I have to do it. Of course, I’m more scared of backing out. Pride and all that. But really, why do I always take the hard way out? Or the hard way in? Because I do both, you know. I think. And the worst part is, I think I’m proud of it. Like I’m proud of my stubbornness, or of my pride. AGGH! If I were Catholic, I’d be saying about a hundred “Hail Mary”s right now, and probably fasting for a week. I think Pride is one of their seven deadly sins. I don’t remember what all of them are: Lust, Gluttony, Sloth, Pride, Wrath, Envy, and Greed. Let me see, how many am I guilty of? Not gluttony. Not sloth, I don’t think. Not really greed. Wrath? Hell yes. Envy? Even more so than wrath. Lust? How do you even define lust? Eh, I don’t know, but by my definition, no. And I believe I mentioned pride. Not vanity though. I don’t think I’m vain. I don’t know. I don’t know what I am.
Rather happy right now, despite the potential Hail Mary’s I would get should I become Catholic (which I won’t).
I should go finish up my math. Today is such a light week for homework. It’s so cool. I love it.
All the same, my black belt test is making me nervous. Everyone says I’ll do well. Even the teacher says he’s not worried about me. But still, I’m not sure. I’m not ready to get my black belt, I’m not ready to go to college, I’m not ready for anything. What am I doing where I am? Is anybody ever ready for this kind of thing? Or is it just me?
I like Hamlet. The movie, anyway. The one with Mel Gibson. (He’s a good actor) I haven’t read the book yet. I should. When I have time. Ha, like I don’t have time now. But I don’t have the book right now.
Saturday at the black belt workout, my assistant teacher said he felt sorry for the first college guy who tried to make a move on me, or something like that. That was funny. He’s an awesome guy. I’m glad he’ll be at my test.
Actually, if you think about it, I have “ideal conditions” for my test. It’s in my own do-jang. (That’s rare.) My best friend is going to be there, my family is going to be there, my teachers are both going to be there, and I might be ready. Can I reasonably ask for anything more? I don’t think so. Although if I had a little more time that would be nice.
Last night, I dreamed about a totally badass thunderstorm, and there were like four lightning streaks that hit all at once right next to my window, and I sat down on the floor and asked myself if I was alive. I wasn’t sure. You could see the wind blowing the clouds into all these ominous shapes, like mammatus (ever seen mammatus? It’s awesome.) Anyway, I wish I could see a storm like that, even though it was kind of scary. I wish that could be called a kind of fearless.
I really wish I could get into Middle-earth right now. Think about it. It would be so cool. I’d like to be a human, like I am now. Humans were the bravest, even if they weren’t the smartest. You know, I think every person thinks the type of person they are is the best kind to be. I think maybe they’re all a little proud of themselves, in a way. That might seem insensitive to say, especially to a person who hates themselves. But they wouldn’t keep hating themselves if they didn’t think it was the best thing to do. Otherwise they would change it, wouldn’t they? Really, in the end, everyone does what they think is best, even if it’s only best for themselves.
I hope I’m not doing only that. I hope I’m a good person. I hope I’m not screwing everything up. I hope for too many things.
Anyway, back to my other thought about Middle-earth. That last thought was getting to be depressing. I’d like to live like Aragorn. I’d like to die like Boromir. I don’t want to die soon, mind you. But if I have to die, I want to die bravely. He died braver than anyone else. I want to die fighting. It’s an odd thing I’ve got. I can’t help it.
I’m not quite satisfied with this. I need something different. I need adventure on an epic scale. I suppose you could call this madness, of a sort. Mad for adventure. Mad for love. Mad for comfort, and at the same time, mad for change, craziness, war. Mad for wildness. Just mad, maybe. I feel like I could take down a whole army right now.
Writing stories about other people isn’t good enough. I need to live a story. If I could write a story of my life the way I wish it was, I would already be fighting, fearless, saving the world.
There’s one problem. Being in love and wanting whatever it is that I want – if you can find a name for what I want, I need it – don’t go together. And I am one, and I want the other. And I can’t have both, because nothing like that ever lasts. There’s no middle ground, and I wouldn’t want it if I could have it. Everything about me is impossible. I need to do one impossible thing. Just one. I need both of those. If I do one impossible thing, can’t I do another? The need for two things at once is driving me crazy. I can’t straighten myself out. Tell me I’m not truly crazy. Tell me I’m sane in some way.
I’m not unhappy. I’m somewhere between a war yell and a laugh. Where’s the middle ground in that?
If I were to write a story of my life the way I wish it were, I would have two side-by-side stories. One for adventure, and one for love. And then I would have to choose one. And I don’t know if I could.
No. That’s not true. I could choose. I know which one I would choose, without a doubt. Even if the story didn’t end well. And I’d be scared to death, just like I am now. But I wouldn’t feel sorry I’d made the choice, no matter what happened. As a matter of fact, I’m not sorry about the choice I’ve made now.
The writing of the stories will be interesting.

So weird, the moon is full tonight and there’s a ton of little clouds. It looks like iridescent popcorn. It’s Friday night, and I’m cleaning house because all my homework is done until Monday – yes! I feel pretty good. I don’t know why. Who ever does? I’ve been thinking too much though – it doesn’t suit me. I wonder what the world would be like if I’d never existed. Would it be that much different? I was thinking about this because I heard something about It’s A Wonderful Life. Classic movie. I watch it every year when it comes on as a Christmas special. I love Christmas specials.
Huh, that’s weird. My dad just told me a weird fact – statistically, smart kids end up drinking more as adults than their “less intelligent peers”. I wonder if I’m smart. I think I am a little bit. Other people think I am, but I’m not quite so sure. I’m not dumb though. I know that much. I’ve been in school for a month now. Same opinion as when I started.
I feel so beat up. TKD has been exhausting lately. I’m going tomorrow too, for a short workout. I still love it though. I wonder it is that some people can hate it. I really don’t understand.
My siblings are watching Cheaper By The Dozen, and the song “I’m just a kid” is playing. I don’t know why, but I kind of like that song. Just the tune, I guess. But those bullies in there – I would have let them have it. I’ll be honest, sometimes I just itch for a fight. I want to take someone down. Just the excitement, I guess. I won’t do it though. Not without a good reason. I’m not going to say I wish someone would give me a good reason though, because they might give me too good of a reason.
I wish I lived in another world sometimes. Middle-earth would suit me just fine. I would carry a sword and hunt orcs and Uruk-hai.
I had the oddest dream last night. It was about fractions. 142/93 + something else that I can’t remember – 142/93. Now, in general, that would equal the number in the middle. But in my dream it didn’t. And everything in the world was wrapped around that fraction. I was going over to Kevin’s house? It involved that fraction set. I was doing dishes? Fractions again. All the great secrets of the universe were contained in that little set of fractions. It was weird.
Now, I have to finish cleaning the house.

It has cool pictures too. A couple of them are a little weird, but most of them are good. After the storm Remix – The Cynic Project I’m pretty happy right now.

Okay, so I’ve watched all the LOTR movies now, and I think I can safely say that I am obsessed. I’m even dreaming about them. The night before last I had a dream where a bunch of college kids came to visit and one of them had murdered me and I had to figure out which one it was. We were all in a basement and about five orcs and a Uruk-Hai or two were there, and I killed all of them with my sword. I have no idea where the sword came from.
Then last night I dreamed that Galadriel was going to hang me for a crime I had forgotten about and probably had committed, and Aragorn said he didn’t love me, and a horse starting licking my neck. Awkward. There were a whole bunch of guards there too, and a woman who was picking grapes on a very spongy, bouncy-type hill, and as soon as she walked away the guards tied me up and led me up to the gallows (I don’t know where that came from; there’s definitely no gallows in LOTR. Probably it came from some western I watched once.) and… I woke up.

I had a strange dream last night. For one, I was a boy, and for another, I was the son of a chief. My mom and I were captured and put in a huge warehouse. Really huge. It was maybe about fourteen stories high, and I’m not exaggerating (although my brain might be). That wasn’t to say there were floors. There was just one floor – at the bottom – and there might not even have been a ceiling. I don’t remember. But there were shelves lining every wall, about a story apart, and there were trains on them. So my mom and I jumped on a train (we were at the top) and pushed it off the shelf. I don’t know what we expected to happen, but we found out pretty quick that we would die if we stayed on there. So we steered it (in the air) towards the shelf perpendicular to it and jumped. We managed to grab a bar from the train on the new shelf and pull ourselves up.
We did this until we got to the bottom. After that, everyone was chasing us and I guess my mom got away or something because I didn’t see her again. Everybody was chasing me, even the people who didn’t look like they were. I remember there was a black girl with a blue shirt and a football who didn’t look like she was chasing me but I know she was relaying my location to the others. My brother Jeff was chasing me too along with a friend of his.
I think finally I just sat down with the girl’s football under my arm and let them catch me. Figured I might as well take it like a man. Dreams where I’m a male turn out to be some of the weirdest if you ask me.