Thanksgiving Break

I took my test in my Abnormal Psychology class today, and knowing that I'm failing my Physiological Psychology course no matter what happens, I've simply stopped going. That means that the rest of my week is completely free, aside from familial obligations on Thursday. I had no idea this free time was coming to me, I've been staring at my feet for so long trying to keep putting one foot in front of the other that I simply didn't look up and see a rest stop ahead...

... if one were inclined to wrap that metaphor up with a nice, tacky visual, one might close it with "...on the interstate of life."

With this sudden gift of time comes the desire to do something with it. Something productive. Something worth writing a blog about! I'm going to set a few goals for myself for the six free days I have this week.

1. Pick up desk and other office/workshop needs from UNT surplus.

2. Finish getting my brother Adam's shit out of my house.

3. Put together my fantasy office/workshop in the room aforementioned brother was occupying.

4. Organize filing cabinet.

5. Draw plans for converting closet in that room into a sound booth.

6. Read three non-school books between now and next Monday. Yes, three. One fiction, two non-fiction.

7. Write one complete one-shot comic script, 24-28 pages.

8. Organize plans for birthday party next month and makeout party in January.

9. Learn one crafting technique. I'm thinking a mosaic... thing. I don't know, a fucking mosaic coffee mug or some shit.

10. Memorize one rope harness and be able to tie it in less than 7 minutes. (I have no idea how realistic this goal is, I'm just shooting for something)

Woah! Ten goals Sean? That looks like a lot of stuff to be putting on your plate for your vacation.

Yes. It is.

My plan is this: If I manage to do three things on that list, I'll feel pretty average about my time usage. Five? I'll feel like I'm pushing myself a bit. Seven or higher and I'm going to take myself out for steak and really good beer one night next week.

Oh, and as a by-rule of this, no internet foruming at all for the entire week. Because when I'm on vacation, it's time to rock my little masochist.

-Sean

Rasberry Truffle Ice Cream

Okay. I might miss one thing about living in Denton. One.

Beth Marie's home made ice cream shop.

One of my few decadent pleasures in this town is taking myself there and getting two pints of some really bizzare flavor combination. This time it was Rasberry Truffle  and Blueberry. The Blueberry is pretty tame, really, and because I ate it second, was completely trumped by the rasberry truffle.


Mmmmm...

My friends Nathan and Sarah came over yesterday with Sonic frozen deserts, which prompted me to get out the ice cream and dance around the room with it, feeding them little spoonfulls as I gyrated in my ice cream worship dance.

It merits dancing, as all good things do.

"A revolution without dancing is a revolution not worth having at all."

-Sean

We're just ordinary people, you and me

For everything we'll never be, and everything we become
There is the story of the moon, and the story of the sun.
The story of the moon  shows hints and ideas,
the dreams of our fears,
A fantasy that leaves on us its mark.
Our reflection in the dark.

The story of the sun tells what has been done,
so brightly it hurts us to see,
But what has been done is nothing new under the sun,
and in it we'll never be free.

-Sean

A Test

I'm experimenting with Scribefire on Firefox, a browser app I downloaded a long time ago and promptly ignored for a year. Apparently, after having entered in my blog details, I should be able to publish this document in it's properly edited glory to my blog directly, without having to pause to log in and open a new document window. The very likeness of impulse buying, except with thoughts. Impulse blogging.


-Sean

Too good to be true...

And so I find myself the lucky friend of fortune, smiled upon beatifically, held in her steady gaze. Aloft my heart sings and my mind cracks with flame, a panther slinks darkly up my spine. It pushes its face to the base of my skull, and upward, inward, till out my eyes it sees my lurid jungle, alive and wet; pulsing... breathing.

For no master's kept these lawns nor these brushes, green painted rushes, florid with color and delight. Manifested unapologetically, this dark, teeming majesty, harem of the moist, starry night.

Like travelers and tourists, finally free and furious, I shed my old name and soft skin. Kin kept in my books tossed out like known crooks and shut from my hearts paradise. Now cold in the night I quell at dark's fright, and the panther raises my lips in a smile. While letting myself go he pushed further below, and I think I'll be a cat for a while.

6 minutes 27 seconds.

-Sean

Having an internet problem

It's lasted 2 weeks now. I've skipped classes, stayed at home for entire days and not gone outside, and each day all I have to show for my time spent is a bunch of forum posts, internet chats, and not even a blog written to record it all.

I feel like this is a symptom of some kind of apathy to my fucked up school semester. I have no idea. I wish I could explain it away and simply say I'm feeling low lately, but more and more I worry that I'm just fucking lazy. I just called up to one of the dance clubs in Dallas and they asked me to come in and work tonight, so I guess I'm going to go make some money. I need it, anyway. I'm poor as fuck, with no other options for pulling down cash right now.

Sucks.

Life can be such a bitch sometimes.

-Sean

Driving really really fast

Ask me what my favorite thing in the world is. The title of this post should tell you what I'm thinking, but if you'd asked me a week ago I probably would have said sex. And it's true, I do love sex. A lot.

But not as much as I love doing 95 MPH on a pitched low angle feeder lane from 35 S to 35 N. Sunday morning traffic, swerving between cars as the road pitches and winds, refusing to drop below 100 on the straightaways, acceleration like white hot nails in my spine, fueling me, feeding my craving for that feeling of dancing on the stars, surfing chaos.

And taking that feeder lane... god... it was like the best orgasm I've ever had. Knuckles clenched on the steering wheel, feeling the tires slowly slip on their traction askew on the pavement, pulling my curve wider and wider against the all wheel drive torque from my suspension... and in that most terrifying moment where I could see all of downtown Dallas arrayed underneath me, with nothing but a small cement barrier to stop me from flinging me and three thousand pounds of wrecked machinery into a 200 foot drop, I was falling off the cliff again, just before I hit the ground.

That sensation, when your nervous system faces fear and pain and simply transgresses it.

The curve widened and straightened out onto the freeway. I let out my breath and took in a big gulp of air, and laughed for five minutes straight. Maniacally, madly, in love with life and everything in it, yet completely apart from it in an indescribable way.

Driving is part of my madness. I know it's a madness because socially it's not mentally healthy, and endangers the lives of others. I know this because I've spent a lot of time in my abnormal psychology class diagnosing myself. Very probably if I ever lost control of my car I'd kill not only myself but other people as well.

But I don't think I'll ever be able to rationalize that to myself in a way that will make me not do it. It's my madness, and you can't fucking have it. If I never keep anything else in this world, I'll at least always have my insanity. You can't take crazy away from me, and you'll just make it worse for trying.

-Sean