Monday, October 31, 2011

The wooden bench beneath me creaks as I lean to retrieve my water bottle.

The decrepit slats of material bounce and bend against their ramshackle constraints under the stress of my weight.

As I refresh myself with a bit of the bottle's fluid inhabitant, I stare straight ahead, entranced by the prismatic rainbow of color defracting from the reflecting pool before me.

The fountain in the center of the pool sprays a continuous jet of water into the air, each drop lingering almost unnaturally in the apex of its parabolic trajectory before slamming back into the surface of the water, leaving nothing but the rippling remnants of its kinetic energy in its wake.

The mist from the exploding droplets of water wafts occasionally in my direction, leaving tiny points of moisture on the surface of the open page in my lap.

A woman on a bench across the water notices my unintentional gaze and shifts uncomfortably.

I look away.

Had I been staring? long had I been staring?

Oh well.

It doesn't matter.

I stared at her again, this time with purpose.

She was beautiful.

Her loose, brown hair floated gently in the light wind, almost as though unencumbered by the usual forces of gravity.

She was fit, but not athletically so, and she sat with a posture that signified the sort of warm composure that one attains through a life of love and happiness.

She looked up and noticed my stare once more.

This time, she smiled at me.

Just a small smile.

But a smile.

I did the same, and returned to the privacy of staring down at my empty sheet of paper.

It seemed such an atrocity, really: the blank page, waiting to be filled with ink.

It pleaded with me; begged to be freed from its imagined incompleteness.

And I simply sat there.

I sat there with my pen hovering above the journal as I always do, hoping that this time the words might come as freely as they once did.

I waited for what seemed like an almost unreasonable amount of time.

And then I waited a little longer.

The words never came.

But this time I did not mind so much.

I carefully closed the book in my lap and put away my pen.

To say that it felt good is not entirely true.

The feeling was still so...artificial, somehow.

But it just felt good to be out.

It just felt good to be among other people.

Friday, October 28, 2011

"Wouldn't you rather lose yourself in such a memory than spend the night alone, staring at walls of metal and plastic?"

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

"You always look so sad all the time. Why don't you just smile a little?"

That is quite a demand.

So let's make a deal.

Give me a reason to smile, and I will do so.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Sunday, October 23, 2011

What they see:

What I see:

Saturday, October 22, 2011

I have spent most of my fall break in my kitchen cooking new things.

I had forgotten how much I enjoy it.

It makes me feel so...

Well, it just makes me feel.

And that, I think, is a good indicator of a truly beloved hobby.

Last night, I made fried eggplant with steamed millet and ponzu sauce for dipping.

Today, for lunch, I made Japanese somen noodles with egg, sliced cucumber, and daikon radish.

(chili ponzu dipping sauce) 

The somen noodles were surprisingly tasty for a fairly plain wheat-based noodle. This is a particularly light and healthy sort of meal, and although I did counteract some of the healthiness by drinking a beer with my lunch, I still feel very satisfied with the way  that everything turned out.

Now...if only I had somebody here to eat this sort of thing with me.

Thursday, October 20, 2011 some of you who may have followed this blog of mine for the time that it was actually running already know, I like to cook from time to time. Cooking is one of my favorite hobbies, and I make a point to indulge in it whenever I can. Tonight, I made a curry for the first time in months.

Prelude to Curry. In D Minor.

I chopped up all of the vegetables, only to realize that I was short one can of coconut milk. Luckily, I live across the street from a Wal-Mart, and I had to make an emergency, last minute run in my pajamas to procure the extra can. I picked up a six pack of Sam Adams Latitude 48 IPA while I was there.

And the currying commences.

My favorite part of cooking: turning off the stove.

The final product: green curry with tofu, bamboo shoots, daikon radish, carrot, eggplant, yellow pepper, mushroom, spinach, and basil. The eggplant and yellow pepper are slightly (slightly) overcooked, but the mushroom (usually the most delicate ingredient) is just right, so I think that I will consider this one a success.

Monday, October 17, 2011

With each passing day, I grow less and less human.

More and more like a machine.

Like a plaything: manufactured to fulfill the whims and desires of others.

I feel very little anymore.

There is not much left but this continuously deepening sadness.

This empty hole in my consciousness.

"Stay positive."

"Look on the bright side."

"Your life doesn't have to be this way."

"Focus on the happy things."

"Just enjoy life. Take it one day at a time."

"This does not control you."

You know, you're right.

This does not control me.

This is me.

I have been told my entire life to fight this.

To be strong.

To be "bigger than this."

And I have tried.

For my entire life...

For all of you, I have tried.

But I'm afraid that I must stop and apologize.

Because I don't want to fight anymore.

I am tired.

I am so tired.

I am tired of fighting.

I am tired of maintaining this facade.

I have lost all sense of purpose.

But perhaps I can still serve a function.

So here I am.

I am yours now.

What can I do for you today?

Thursday, October 13, 2011

You know, I haven't been keeping up super well with this Occupy Wall Street nonsense, but I can't help but wonder:

How many engineers do you think are busy "occupying" Wall Street?

I'm going to say probably not very many. Making things costs a lot of money, and private corporations are one of the few financial entities that actually have the capacity to fund the projects that bring us the technologies that improve our quality of life.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

I did not take my medication this morning.

I intentionally left my pill box at home specifically so that I could not be weak today.

That was a mistake.

That was a fucking mistake.

Oh my goodness.

I can't be this anymore.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Everything is terrible!

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

"It should be noted that if there is large random error in a single-factor experiment, it is not really a single-factor experiment."

Here's looking at you, creation scientists.

Monday, October 3, 2011

3:20 AM.

The music pours into my ears.

Each note races across my synapses like a discharge of pure electricity behind my eyes.

My heart pounds, each fervent beat sending my amphetamine-fueled blood coursing through my veins.

Ten days.

I lasted ten days.

Ten days withstanding its absence.

Ten days of desire.

Ten days of wasted effort trying to direct my thoughts to other matters.

Ten days of ignoring that translucent plastic bottle.

Ten days of unfocused apathy.

Ten days of clouded thought.

Ten days of chaos.

Ten days of futility.

Ten days.

For ten days, I watched myself give up.

And tonight, I took the pill.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

I can't stop listening to this song. 

Oh my goodness, it is so good.
Do not waste your time telling me that people are not worth it.

I have seen too much good in this world to assume the worst in others.