Saturday, December 30, 2006

I wasn't was am not was not no
don't it won't don't please don't go
I didn't it wasn't I didn't say
no I didn't it won't only no years
old please don't say no it won't go
I didn't it wouldn't I didn't say no

Thursday, December 28, 2006


Thursday, December 21, 2006


Winter break is boring. The semester is finished, I've accomplished my 4.0 GPA, and now I have nothing to do until January 10th.

I have housework to do but I'm not very enthusiastic about it. I cleaned my bathroom today, and finished reading a novel by Billie Letts. Kind of a mindless, guilty pleasure type of a book, complete with a cheesy, happily-ever-after ending. I picked up some other things from the library yesterday, including Walden, which I've been planning to re-read over break. It's been years since I first read it, and my recent interest in American Transcententalism has encouraged me to revisit Thoreau. I also thought I might read some Faulkner, since somehow I've never read him before.

I thought of taking a job but since I don't want to work during Spring semester it seems kind of pointless. I even had an interview yesterday that I cancelled. I know that lots of people work and go to school at the same time, but I'd rather put myself completely into my schoolwork. I think working would distract me, and I have to stay focused. I have to do what I care about.

Saturday, December 16, 2006

A long time ago, I used to write poems

I never write poetry anymore.

Am I creatively dead?

Am I too structured?

Out of every hundred poems that I've written, maybe there are 3 that might be worth something. The only way to write good poems is to write a lot of bad ones, and I'm not even doing that anymore. I don't know why. I can't help thinking that my poetry is fueled by consumption of alcohol, but I know that's incredibly stupid, even though the idea looks plausible.

My life is boring and uncomplicated. In Milwaukee, there were complications. There were issues. There was drama. There were people.

I don't know what my point is.

Since I've lived here, I haven't been depressed for longer than a day at a time, which seems miraculous to me.

The truth is, depression can be creatively motivating. Emotional turmoil is something to respond to, something to interpret, something to write about. I'm not saying it's the only way to be creative, but it is the way I have the most experience with.

I really need to take an English class.

Life is good. Everything is fine.

And I feel extroardinarily dull.

Friday, December 08, 2006


I just woke up from odd dreams about an hour ago. I can't seem to shake it and get back to sleep, so I thought I'd write down what I dreamt.

First, I was in some sort of mental hospital. I believe I had been drinking which would largely explain why I was there. I don't remember much about the details of the mental hospital portion of the dream, but at some point, this guy Brian that I used to know came to get me. He kind of rescued me in a way, I suppose, although, like I said, the details are lost in a haze.

Next, we were at my parents house. A huge storm was on its way and we were all running around trying to prepare for it. In this part of the dream, I had a younger sister. I don't know her name, but she had long dark hair and was terrified of the rain. She wasn't helping at all to prepare for the storm because she was scared, and my parents were lecturing her about it because she had some sort of nautical career ahead of her, and they wanted her to know how to bunker down. My parents were in the process of relocating their pool, and we all went out there to secure everything, and somehow ended up swimming. It was storming outside at this point. I was enjoying the swim except for all the debris on the water.

Next, Brian and I drove out to a field. We got out of the car and talked for a while. I know there was more to it then that but I can't remember. I should have started writing this dream right away. At any rate, we started driving through the field to leave, and there were people everywhere...truckers, children - people camping out and cooking out. Brian kept almost hitting people with his car, without seeming to care much. At one point, a person got in his way and he reached out of his window with a giant pair of tongs and moved the person out of the way. I couldn't believe it, and said something like, "You displaced that person...with tongs!"

That's about all I remember from the dream. The last part of the dream was particularly absurd and could be seen as amusing, yet for some reason I woke up unnerved. Shortly after I first met Brian, in real life, we were sleeping in my bed together and I felt like he had intruded my dream. I thought he was a psychic vampire. I'm not sure if I believe in things like that anymore or not.

What troubles me more is the question of evil. I'm not sure if good and evil are simply based on the choices we make as human beings with free will - if they are merely human conceptions that would not otherwise exist, or if good and evil are actually natural forces in this world. Sometimes I believe pure evil exists, and I have this feeling inside that tells me Brian was the kind of peson capable of evil, in a serial killer, child molester type of way. I took comfort in his presence in the dream. I guess that's what really disturbs me.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

German Class

This is a picture of my German 101 class. It was a good group.

Ich bin traurig.

Friday, December 01, 2006


This is what it looks like outside of my brother's window in Milwaukee right now.

And this is what it looks like here.