Red

Tis an all season color, don't you think?

I will be brief this evening, but I continue to remind myself of pleasures with new company.

Feelings of my last sting in college so far prance like they should

Plain and simple

Looking back on the last post, I realized that I had conjured up some pretty stupid grammatical errors. I blame the lack of good sleep in the last couple of months.

But here we are again, at roughly 1:30 in the morning, with the antique tunes of Coldplay's "Parachutes". Today was a a day of boredom and self-induced loneliness. There was nothing to blame for loneliness except for just random bullshit that I will not disclose in this post. Suffice to say, though, I feel a significant void in the Austin College arena.

I did write a little bit today. Working on a project involving a series of letters to all the ex-girlfriends this guy ever had. I am obviously finding many parallels with my own life, which is probably the basis for this idea anyway. Anyway, I am still working on the first letter. "Dear Courtney"

Whether this ever sees the eyes of a mass audience doesn't phase me. I am writing this for my great aunt Norma, who always wished for me to attempt something like this. With the clock running out of juice on her very long life, I feel like the pressure is on to try something. She always tells me to write her something..."It'll pass the boredom of weird people in assisted living quarters". She's 93.

She's my hero

I am hoping this is not the year that takes her from me. I feel that she has ended up watching my childhood in a way I find admirable. She never treated me completely like a child, even when I was six and swinging on monkey bars. She always challenged me to push myself harder than others. When I was seven, she highly suggested I write a play...So I did.

It was absolutely horrible, but damned if I didn't do it anyway. It had cowboys, a funeral, and a sick mother. I planned the play out to the last detail. I know who would play what part and who would run specific functions of the stage. Of course, by placing my relatives in these positions, I shouldn't have expected Broadway. But I did. And I was disappointed.

But she got me to first place my words on paper in a way I never did before. She challenged me to be an artist. For that, she's my hero. She can't leave just yet, because this seems to be the semester when I put all the artistic juice on the table. I feel like it's my last shot to do something stupendous. Even in the minimalist sense. I guess I should rephrase: this might be the last chance in Norma's lifetime to see me to something, balls to the wall, artistic.

Which is why I am now writing these stories, that might be just as bad as my play. But I don't care. I figure if I remember why I am writing them and understand who I am writing it for, it may not be great, but it'll be damned personal.

And someone will anticipate the read

Every artist's dream

Hey guys, Well, it seems like an eternity since I continued to claim that my blogging would continue. Life kept getting in the way.

Of course, everyone says that. They're too busy to do the tasks they could once do with ease. More specifically, friends you saw all the time now seemed dispersed or completely vacant from your life. It's damned unfortunate, because you find yourself feeling somewhat abandoned. Naturally, due to this mixed feeling, you just conclude that your friend is being an asshole or going through some phase or something. They'll either get through it or they won't. But it was their fault. I don't know. I always found something incredibly dumb about that form of resolution.

Sometimes life truly is a bucket of bad beans. But you know, while their world is changing, yours should be as well. We all have certain, VERY specific traits that you want out of life. Sometimes the road you're currently on seems absent of something vital to you. From that deduction, begin to veer off the road and into the country. Or a highway...it's whatever.

Man I got off topic.

Well anyway, my life has now offered me some time I can sacrifice to sit down and pour our my feelings on a blog. Actually, to be selfish, this is for me to look back on once I have graduated and moved on. Which brings me to my first (and only) theme this evening (or morning):

So I am finally knocking on the doors of the graduation house. It seems and feels like forever ago when I look back five years. Five years. A period of time so miniscule in the grand schemes of history. But still, to this young soul it's quite a while. In that time, I did and didn't do many things I say I would or wouldn't do. I went to two different schools, met two entirely different group of friends (both of which I still look back and relish. Heh, even if I hardly ever see them).

The romantic encirclement in my mind have taken many twists and turns, mulching much of my logic out and replacing it with a combination of confusion and sweet merciful joy. It's hard looking back, though, because I did do some things I seriously ever think I would do.

I am listening to "Parachutes" from Coldplay right now. Back in an on-campus dormitory (of a fashion. Roo Suites to be exact). I am listening to Coldplay in the dark trying to find the absence of energy that will induce sleep. But it dawned on me...I haven't listened to this album, trying to go to sleep in a dormitory, since I was at OU. In a completely different field of thought. Without a lot of scar tissue. Without a lot of memories.

Good and Bad

I don't know. I feel like this semester will bring some changes in my psyche that will begin my path down a different road. An older road that is unavoidable to anyone near the end of college. I suppose to say it's idiotic to say that I feel like it will happen. There's no feeling about it. It will change Whether I like it or not. But the attitudes embraced should not and will not be that of pessimism. I will do my damndest to embrace these mutations in my daily existence in hopes that I will look back on it with a smile

Five years down the road.

Enough for now.

Looks like I might be back