Sunday, August 31, 2003

For the past four days I have fought back fever and body aches with the seemingly futile weapons of medication.
Every time my fever breaks, it returns when the Ibuprofen wears off.
This morning I found myself in the worst sweat during this illness.
My fever broke, and the fever medicine had long since left my system.
I was so very hopeful that my body was on the up-and-up.
I took a nap because I was quite fatigued due to the sleepless night preceeding.
I awoke with body chills and a fever to accompany.
My poor spirits now crushed, I went back downstairs for more medication.
I am in such a state of weakness.
I am so mentally worn.
I just want to be rid of this troublesome ailment!
As my sickness carries on, I make rash assumptions on what I have (since the Doctor said it was simply an intestinal bug)
I came to the conclusion that I must have Cancer, West-Nile, and a Tapeworm that will not let me digest my food.
Yes, all of these are what are ailing me.
I admit, I must have a bit of hypochondria in me.
Worry always takes control of my thoughts especially when my mental state is sensitive due to my illness.
The truth is that this must be a virus that is taking more time than usual to be rid of.
The truth is that I'll not better myself by worrying.
The truth is that I soon will be well.

Monday, August 25, 2003

The '81 Chevy pickup glares back at me as I shuffle back to the imprisoning corrugated iron building.
Two and a half months of my life have ticked away while I perform my mindless day-to-day activities.
Such repetetive duty. What good comes from a summer where 8 hours of every day are spent taming the wild blades of grass and slapping healthy shine down on a series of well-trodden hallways?
"Hummmm...", sounds the floor buffing machine. It sings its song of spite as I lead in this dance of janitorial work. Week after week this ill-tempered siren calls out to me demanding my attention. I am always at its mercy, for I always answer its call.
As if to antagonize my last nerves, the menacing kamikaze water pipes erupt underneath the surface leaving no choice but to spend hours digging, repairing, and replacing the moved sod.
This is what I do.
This is what I do to make money.
Sitting atop the iron boar, I turn the key. He growls and remains unmoved. I play a bit with the choke and I thrust repeatedly on his pedal. He groans preturbed and does not budge. Fed up with its insolence, I reach for the ether. After a generous helping, this beast is at my will.
There is undoubtedly no other place on earth with as many unyielding engines as what I have encountered here. Anything with a cord to pull or a key to turn proves intolerable.
With much effort, my body twists and contorts itself in order to maximize effectiveness...to no avail. The gasoline-powered blower is in no better condition now as it was before I burned approximately 230 calories simply by exercising the muscles in my upper and lower arms.
The sweat beads all throughout my mop of hair and pours down my brow in currents strong enough to throw a small dingy off course. My arms tense up as the rapid vibrations from the dated weed-eater send my body in to shock. Fifteen minutes after I am finished with my sorrowful task of trimming all that the Grasshopper brand riding lawnmower could not reach, I sit, still vibrating, hoping to regain normal muscle control.
As I perform all my duties I have plenty of time to think, seeing as how my mind is obviously not caught up in deep contemplation of each of my tasks.
I decide that my seemingly insignificant job must hold some meaning.
Why on earth could an artist such as myself be caught up in such work?
Why?
Because it serves to bring out the freshness and beauty of art.
All my heart desires is to acheive my own self-set potential in my art form.
Ever artist, performers especially, need desperately to take part in a job such as my current one.
A job that requires a great deal of manual labor for relatively low pay is usually one that Americans label as "blue collar." - Janitors, maintenence workers, construction workers, and the like.
The reason I make such a strong general statement is that these hard-work jobs culminate a great deal of humility.
Humility that is learned only through experience.

"Don't go over there and get a big ego. Stay just as sweet as you are."

A lump rose in my throat. I gave a quick good-bye so she wouldn't see the tears welling up in my eyes.
My grandmother's sincere words pierced my heart.
In the car with Davie, the tears came.
"She may not be here when I come back," I said, wiping away tears and inhaling vigorously through my nose to avoid an unsightly run.
"I have to take advantage of the time I have with her because she may not have too many years left."
Her health is worsening, and now she can barely.
Though her God-given vessel is failing her, her heart beats true.
This I know from the emotions her simple words evoked: "Stay just as sweet as you are."
"What are we going to do without you?" were her words immediately before she broke my heart with her kindness.
I could tell that she knew she may never see me again once I leave for Wales.
What that must be like! To feel your health begin to fail you. Oh how I wish I could empathize, but I cannot.
Therefore, I will obey her wishes and keep my ego subdued. That is one of the greatest services I believe I can give my grandmother...
So I will finish out my sentence at this intolerable Ag Research Center
To gain humility
To stay just as sweet as I am.

Friday, August 22, 2003

Good morning, sunshine.

You have no idea how my mind has been pumping this morning.
This struggle between love and moving - it's immense.
I want to see you today, and tomorrow, and the day after.
Thank you for our conversation last night.
We will both thank ourselves as the months roll on.
Our tears will flood the sink and run to the floor.
Our tears will gradually lessen.
Our tears will stop - and we will have all the great memories and none of the pain.
Our hearts are permanently a part of each other.
Our bodies are permanently a part of each other.
Our lives are what they are now because of each other.
Be with me now so that I can have your spirit while I am away.
Be with me forever.
I love you.

I'm sorry for the pain I may wreak in the future.
I'm sorry for the tears I may provoke.
I'm sorry for the times you may have doubted.
I'm sorry for the times I doubted.
I'm sorry for not spending the time I should have with you.
I'm sorry for the nights we didn't spend together.
I'm sorry for all the times I didn't hold you.
I'm sorry for the kisses I neglected.

I'm not sorry for the time we've had.
I'm not sorry for the times we will have .
I'm not sorry for the emotions I have had.
I'm not sorry for investing so much of my soul into you.
I'm not sorry for loving you.
I'll never regret loving you.
I'll never stop loving you.
I'll never stop. I'll never stop.

I'll never...

Monday, August 18, 2003

I fear it less now.
This transition upon me.
Friends heading off to college whom I'll not see for perhaps years.
I fear it less now.
I fear less the transition in the relatinship David and I share.
I sincerely love my man and he me.
Should our lives grow apart we will rejoice with each other for the time we shared.
Should our lives grow closer together we will nurture each other until we die.
So much in life is determined by your demeanor and perspective.
Seeing a closed door not as a barrier blocking our way, but as a safe guard protecting us from unforseen danger.
Seeing a trip overseas not as the end of beautiful friendships, but as the beginning of a lifetime of experiences that will help you to fertilize the seeds of friendship you already have and to plant new seeds.

Amor vincit omnia.

A latin sentence I often include post-email as a type of literary punctuation.
But what truth is there in "Love conquers all."?
...thinking...
Love...conquers...all...
YOu should see if you believe such a phrase.
It is more powerful a statement your typical three-word sentence.

Sunday, August 17, 2003

"Just 4 more," the instructor gingerly spoke hoping to keep our faith in her workout rutine.
My muscles burn and my lungs pump gallons of air in and out of my nose and mouth. As the sweat beads around my hairline it gains weight and tickles my face as it splashes onto the imitation hardwood studio floor. Watching my body expand and contract in the mirror, I begin to think about the morning and afternoon I just experienced.
"You'll be gone for a long time," Patrick spoke as we hugged and said our good-byes.
All my years in the Lubbock Independant School District are over. All my life as a High School Student is over. I am leaving the town i've lived in all my life to travel across an ocean i've only crossed twice in my lifetime.
Depression finally hits me.
I've been able to go this long without any feelings of sorrow concerning my move. It was not, in fact, my move to college that sparked these feelings, because I don't leave for a few more weeks.
My friends are leaving me.
That's it.
But the difference is that they are a car's drive away.
More cost effective.
Shorter distance.
I don't wish, however that I had chosen a school in America. I'm very proud of myself and my accomplishments. I am just running in to reality.
The reality is that years will progress and my memories of high school will have that fuzzy edge like to that of old browning pictures your grandmother shows you (on multiple occasions).
My only hope is that I will be faithful to my emails and keep them flowing.
How well have I chosen my friendships?
Have I pointed blindly when selecting companions?
No.
Have I based relationships on shifting-sand-values?
No.
Then why should I be aprehensive?
Because this new experience is foreign. I've no model, no parameters to guage my successes. How will i manage my finances? How will I be able to keep my head in my studies enough to do well in school?
I don't know.
But isn't that refreshing - the "I don't know" aspect of life? I don't have to know. What wisdom would be gained if you knew the answers as soon as the question arose?
None.
Wisdom is based on experience.
Wisdom cannot be measured. I cannot be measured because each individual person has their own unique experiences.
This creates the grey area.
Ooh, the nasty nasty grey area.
Black and White people tend to see life through tunnelled goggles. As soon as they are presented with a question an answer is spouted off because it is either one way or the other. How many times have we all run into this? Too much.
What adventure is there in life if the answers are easy?
What do we have to say we've accomplished if the answers are easy?
How can we say that we are wise if the answers...

Eyes of children all around
Singing, laughing, gleeful eyes.
Eyes of adults to the ground
At loss of child-like mysteries.

Soon I will know what it feels like to leave all of my friends and begin amassing new ones in a foreign place.
I just hope to hold on to friendships and to not forsake the ones I love.

-Amor vincit omnia-

Friday, August 15, 2003

Congratulations on finding me! I am a most fortunate soul, I assure you. I am perhaps the only person you know that is travelling to Wales. I am probably the only person you know that is studying theatre in Wales. I am definitely the only person you know that has dressed up as Dr. Frank-n-furter on multiple occasions, and is studying theatre in wales. My school is the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama. Located in Cardiff, Wales, this spectacular institution for the furthering of dramatic arts and music is located just down the way from the largest castle in the world, well not in the whole world but in the whole Cardiff. Far from civilization these primitive people sit around admiring each other's quilt patterns and knit-work. Again, I lie. Cardiff is the fastest growing capital city in the UK. Standing right now at about 300,000 blokes and blokettes (notice, i've already made up a word) is is just the right size for a man of my pizzaze (spell that word as you like). With four housemates and myself I'm sure the neighbors will all complain once or twice at the outlandish ribaldry that will take place. As I progress along I will add my works of poetry (although I've been a bit dry lately) and thoughts/beliefs.