the river everywhere...
I passed a moment by this morning, not because I couldn't see it for what it was, but because I didn't have time to acknowledge it. I find myself passing things by more and more often lately, just swept away by the petty flow of it all. Get to work on time. Get to class on time. Wake up early, be late anyway. Turn things in. Pass on by. Keep moving. Keep moving. This life herds us into cattle-cars. I want off the train, but I guess I opted to get on.

The man was sitting in the grass at the side of the path, behind his bicycle, a gnarled, black old-timer. "How's it going, young one?" He asked me, in that sort of jazz-musicial voice that elderly african-americans are blessed to have. "Good," I said, "Lovely morning." He agreed and I wished him the best and passed on, already late for class. I knew we could have said more- that he had more to say, even before I was three meters away and my fingertips started to tingle. They do that when the air is thick with magic... it's pleasant, like moving them through water. When the air is really heavy, my palms get tight and my whole hands hum... This morning the whole world had magic to it. A magic that I couldn't stop to enjoy. Get to class. Find out test score. Express great annoyance at more evaluations. I knew if I turned around and went back after those three meters, that the satyr sitting there would be gone. If anything, there would only be a man. I had lost the story he had to tell because of my fear of time, of this mortal, immortal thing. Sometimes, I am no better than anyone else.

I always would like to think I take the time to see. I mean, really see. But at moments like this I doubt I see anything at all. I'm afraid to meet the people who will show me the way, let me know that my Dreams are real. I'm afraid to let go of what little "real" I have for fear I'll lose my sanity. I already know someone teetering at that brink, and it frightens me... it's not pretty. I consider myself a balanced person, but I'd rather lean toward eccentric than banal. I want magic in my life. I don't want to KNOW that I purposefully ignore it because I have stupid obligations like class. I'm afraid it will be insulted, that it will leave.

Don't leave...

There was another one, playing in the river, howling with delight. It frightened me because I wanted to call him crazy in my mind, to stop and look and then shy away in fear when he looked back. But I also wanted to be him. I wanted to be free from my stupid, shallow, volleyball girl demeanor... from my A average and my nike shoes. From my stupid kitchen and stupid clothes. I want to be the Wild Girl. And so I am. I think I'll always live a dual life, and I think people will always sense that. It confuses them and, unless they like that kind of thing, they tend to shy away from me. I'm a traitor to both worlds; I live with a foot in the door. But I'm proud, I'm not afraird to voice my dreams. What's the worth of being a dreamer if you just keep it all inside? Your dreams will never be real then. You will never find your light. Dreamers should speak aloud, mingle their dreams into a living mass. We are one blood, all the seekers and all the dreams. Only we can join, mind, body and soul- that unity I've been searching for and have yet to find. I'll follow the stream of people. I'll lay in the river and give birth to the world. As for my dreams, I'm just afraid that they'll come to life and take me away and destroy me... more than that I'm afriad that they aren't real and my soul of souls is a worthless little fantasy. That's worse than insanity. So I walk between and, for the most part, it's a pleasant path. But I know which one I'd choose if I had to. So if I go one day, into the woods, and I don't come back... don't wait for me. I may come for you, but I may want you to follow.

I hope I'm not developing an anxiety disorder. I always feel so tense, even when I've nothing to worry about. I'm always trying to decide...do I want to do one thing or the other. Ok, I'll do this. No, wait- I'll do that! God dammit, all the time to decide has passed, I'll do that thing. No, I mean...! Shit. Uhh. That's what I get for living with a foot in the door. I want to see everything, do everything and all it gets me is confused and tense. I want there to be a way to watch. To observe. And still to do. I need to relax, there's nothing wrong here. There's nothing wrong with not doing everything, I can commit! (I can also lie to myself) The problem with not making a decision is, if you don't make one, it will be made for you. I wouldn't have a problem with that but... sometimes it's not the right choice. Then again, maybe living randomly is the best way to go; you've got a fifty-fifty chance of succeeding. It's been getting worse recently, I don't know why. A product of my own docility maybe? Am I not being challenged enough, so that the little things are boring great big gaping holes in my mind? Aaaaahhh!! *pant pant* Ok. I'm ok. Erm. Well. It's not such a big deal, just dead week making me its bitch. Then finals week will be over and I'll be working 8-5 all week for the rest of the summer. [sarcasm] I'm sure that will be much better. [/sarcasm] Eh, whatchagonnado.

Back to errand running and decongestants. (Hurrah for feeling slightly medicated with no visible effects) I'm reading the OC "Hate" Issue (traitorous of me, I know... but I love it!) and the new, final OV is out.