Taken by Taylor Franklin Hide
http://www.flickr.com/photos/taylorhide/page17/

ONE HOUR

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

One hour.
My mind goes blank
The second I begin to relieve my stress by paper i am confronted by a mental block. The thoughts don't turn into words. The daily process and weight which lies on my shoulders to remember.

The thoughts
feelings
friends
goodbyes
kisses
hugs
winks
thankyous
school
persuits
song
music
dance
open rooms

One hour I have left free. This hour is not dedicated to anyone. This hour I can comsume all of my thoughts into one emotion. Wrap it up in a sausage bite and scouv it down. I dont like sausage bites so mabe i delicious apple. A crisp bite consumed with chaotic daily junk. Taught blabber which goes in one ear and comes out the other. The pointlessness in attendance. I can do it myself. I can read I understand meaningfull concepts. That which is read I learn, that which is spoken I remember, that which is tested then I easily forget. Why is this? I remember the importances instances I believe. What matters that I have a midterm on Thursday, I enjoyed a night of relaxation and contempt that I shared whith a dear friend. I was free for a night, although the image of my eyes suffered dearly from my pleasure the ngiht before, I have no regrets. Only a determination to not make this particular event a reacurring place.

Poetry. About kiss.
Something which was read can bring about an incredible emotion. And with that emotion a possibilty of an enlightening outcome. A kiss. The kiss that outlasts all thoughts, all circumstances.
15 minutes in...

My mind is racing. I think I have a certain tendency to interupt. Myself as well as others. I have certain thoguhts, which often if not voiced or typed are lost forever. A talent of mine which I cherish and hate all together. Its like a delicius pie mixed with a flow of tears. The sadness which is cured with

I am unsuccessfully distraught and confused. But am I? Am i really feeling down? Or does my mind play tricks on me. I focus so closley on what needs to be done, where I need to be, what I need to do to accomplish. Acomplish what? Defintaley not an accomplishment which brings peace, or the image of a calm lake into my state of mind. The accomplishemnt today is a struggle between want and need. Do i need to go to class today? Or can I skip it just this once. Do i have to wave to a friend I pass on the quad who I havent seen in months, even though a feel and look horrible. The night before brought a lovely glistening moon cresent purched below my two eyes. I do it anyway. It was surprisingly pleasent. She told me she wanted to cut her bangs becaus she saw a picture of mine on facebook. Facebook. I believe that is a whole other dimension I might touch on later.

Need. I need to enojoy the relaxation the wonderfull weather has brought today. This is true enjoyent has definatley grown from want to need. I believe it is absolutley nesecary to bask in the present world. You can grow from it.

Another encounter today. Kinsey. Oh Kinsey, she is quite amazing.After stronlgy encouraging me to skip work in order to acheive a few of my wants and needs I was struck with a silly thought. She brought me a vent. She became my vent. She did nothing, she was herself. But her self allowed a certain GUSH or water to break down my building blocks of walls which began I beleieve the night before.

Google Blogging. 30 Minutes down. 30 Minutes to go.

I gained this funny technique from a close friend. Instead of writing then editing, then posting, then re-writing, then saving, then sending, then shutting down. I simply write. I write into this one medium which somehow miraculously saves my thoughts in a world or clutter, which interestingly enough I can understand and mediate trhough. I no longer write in a medium which forces me later to share my thoguhts. I write here. It is raw. The commas are defintaley not where they should be. I do not scroll back to tweek the annoying squiggly red line. It is MY mistake. Im not perfect, and neither are my tiny fingers which have trouble skiiping through the letters uniqley arranged on the baord. I let the mistakes become character. For my character is definaltey not brought about by strucure. There is no structur ein my thoughts. I do not have bins or shelves in my mind organizing the important thoughts from the sad thoughts. The delightfull memories from my worst nightmares. They come to me in a constant flow of being. I smell, then I remember. I see, then I remember. Each particular encounter with sense brings a thought. I do however often wish I could peek into the thoughts of others. You know those thought that race your mind while your doing the most indecent lame instances of tasks.

While your brushing your teeth. My mind thinks. I wonder if I will ever enjoy coffee. While I hopelessly search for my keys and phone. Is there someone watching me perform this daily task? Are they sitting, purched on a cloud eating Philidalphea cream cheese (like in the commercials) laughing histerically at me because they know exactly where I left my phone. Are they asking all of there friends to come and watch this particular episode. I have become a regular morning ritual. "Watch this guys, she lost her keys again" Do they replay the funny episodes? Like when I thoght it would actually help me remember to put my keys in the most unusual place ever. I searched for them for hours. I had to skip dinner because I could not lock the door. When I finally decided it would be impossible and rude to show up an hour late I began rummaging the fridge to find something quick to whip up. I settled with salad, not impressive I must agree. But since I was good with dinner I figured I would slam it off with a sweet desert. KEYS! Sitting frost bitten and bold where my keys, right next to my lovely pound of choclate swirl delight. I embraced the moment, laughed, even though no one was around, and fully enjoyed my bowl of pleasure.
Why does food bring pleasure?
And with that pleasure drags regret.

15 minutes to go.
I think I'll stop.
That felt good.

The Ease of Mood Tunes

Wednesday, January 21, 2009


Too often than not I am caught in a situation of a partial Helen Keller! With my hood up blocking the blistering wind, while rocking to some Jason Mraz I happen to bike short of an old friend. As awkward as I can only imagine I look to others, trying to cover every inch of my body with any available article of clothing I struggle to squeak out a "HEEEEEEY how was your break", or "CUTE SHOES, we lets grab lunch sometime".

But not today. Today I most certainly encountered my very first bike catastrophe. A switch of tunes occurred almost unexpectedly from the thrifty sing-along "Everything"-Michael Buble, to "Forever" by Ben Harper. I began to reflect on my recent travels, relationships and of course my vast present reality. It is amazing how one particular song or tune can reenact an exact moment in time, can fully bring you back to a distinct cloud nine, while other melodies may inevitably strike a a Titanic burst of tears.

This certain song experience captivated many of my necessary biking senses. My eyes went from scanning the quad as to not slam into oncoming students to enjoying the the foliage even in the dead of winter. My hands went from attempting to cycle an unswerving line to hastily snapping to the rising tempo. I was so easily distracted I forgot all about speed, control, and direction. Who really needs those skills biking? Long story short I face planted onto the frozen pavement. I have some killer discoloration on my knees to show for it!

"People spend so much time every single day running around all over town giving their forever away, but no not me i wont let my forever roam, now I hope I can find my forever home."
- Ben Harper

Finding a Thinking Spot

Monday, January 19, 2009

As I sit jammin to an unknown British band my friend conveniently added to an unknown gifted mix CD, I am quite perplexed with my frenzied inability to achieve a desired level of concentration.

I have successfully discovered yet another seat on this colossal campus to rest my tush, which not only aids in the distraction process from my well neglected school work, but interestingly enough it somehow bestows a particular feeling or emotion into my hectic flow of thoughts. One grand purple-crushed-velvet chair perched in an empty room is all one could possibly need to feel swayed from any important online art history lecture.

I get a sense of power, a simple care-free spirit I embrace in an open empty room. I feel almost as if my noggin is in overdrive to fill the empty room with creative juices, thoughts and feelings. It is a spare moment to let your brain teach for a change, instead of mindlessly soaking up numb information like a dirty sink sponge which will only be tossed to soak up the pieces from the next singed cheese omelet, or in my case the incredible CS202.

Where? do you ask does this noggin relaxing chair exist... If I said it would defeat the purpose of you finding your own eccentric retreat! S0 as dreaded as burnt breakfast food may sound, I can always find a simple squat or a kneel in a medium of choice where my brain and butt can take an unwind.
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