in[dependent] em[power]ment

5TH ST SW

2011-07-12T21:47:00.003-05:00

my mood

It's never too late, or in my case too early, to be whoever you want to be.
There's no time limit.
Start whenever you want.
You can change or stay the same.
There are no rules to this thing.
We can make the best or the worst of it.
I hope you make the best of it.
I hope you see things that startle you.
I hope you feel things you never felt before.
I hope you meet people who have a different point of view.
I hope you live a life you're proud of, and if you're not, I hope you have the courage to start it all over again.

...as i sit here in this muggy weather, i realize that i am still figuring myself out. the remnants of a childhood ideal tell me that at this point, i would have it all figured out. all I's dotted, all T's crossed.
but now that i'm here, i feel so far away although the journey has been long, and the fight good.

too many questions unanswered, too many lands unexplored. too many songs unlistened to. too many bottles of wine unopened.

continue, to the best of your ability.

2011-04-29T22:00:00.002-05:00

a sumer night, i find a boat.

I tip my oar to raise the stroke
The wading swan, the image broke
A looming peak, a pirate size
Uprears its head a sudden guise
Takes me

why must this place be my go-to in times of mental distress?

suddenly, tonight, it hit me: i am an idiot.

my romantic life has been dry. so utterly dry.
with my current...crush?(this term makes me feel like a 13 year old girl), it's really not about the reality, but the thought that i fell in love[?] with.

based on a few steady glances and eye contact, my idiot mind builds a fabulous individual that is the yin to my yang, the perfect fella that i can wake up next to, share a conversation over coffee, and enjoy meals and music with. someone that i can dance with and enjoy their company.
Someone who is so outrageously normal and accessible.

but then I get a taste of the reality, and this perfect vision of an individual comes somewhat crashing down as I realize that this whole perfect vision was a construct of my own mind.

yep, idiot.

sufjan stevens

2010-12-16T22:03:00.005-06:00

...ut oh.
what i did know about sufjan stevens is that his music was wonderful. beautiful, smart, emotional: like few artists i know, he paints a world that i wish i was part of. whether it's lovely or not.
what i didn't know was how perfectly he fit the description of my
ideal man.

in other news, i think i am coming to the conclusion that my 2010 was sort of a bust.
i'm still trying to figure this whole thing out, and am a little unsure that this is where and what i want to be doing.
more to come.

miss you, grandma.

appreciation.

2010-10-29T20:21:00.003-05:00

...you look so incredibly, undeniably happy.
i wish you the best, because that is what i did not give you.

so many things are happening to me to make me appreciate the things i have. and had.

it's crazy. and SO needed.
i feel like an animal has awoke within.

push.

2010-07-16T18:31:00.003-05:00

and suddenly, it hit me.
I'm just treating this, this time, this place, as normal. as my life.
i need to jenny-fy my life.

this is my life, this is my adventure!

i want to listen to beautiful music, be with wonderful people, take nothing for granted, live in the moment. meet interesting people, learn, be merry, drink delicious drinks and eat delicious meals.
and be happy. be outrageously, sun-in-your-face happy.

i get so mixed up sometimes- wanting more time, more money, more success.

2010-02-06T14:00:00.002-06:00

"brian, it doesn't matter...."
that's what i need. someone to shake me, tell me what to do.

because jealousy and worry are such ugly emotions.
it's times like these that i long to be more like my father.
a rock, he is.
solid emotions, spoken with clarity and finality.
and he is such a kind, caring, giving man.
although our political alliances differ, he is a brilliant man that i will spend the rest of my life trying to be like.

in other news, i am excited to sit on the beach with one of my best ladies in a place that is significantly closer to the equator.

so what's that, then?

2010-01-22T20:49:00.002-06:00

"this is my reprieve" i thought, taking in that precious minute or 2 when i am alone, at peace, not trying to prove myself.

it was a charmed life they lived. weekends at the beach. wednesday night grills across the street with that lovely couple and their 3 kids. on idle saturdays, they loved to sit on the couch together, quietly reading, making small talk every now an again. their dogs and the life they formed were just laying about. it was just them. just them. together. like out of a movie.

this american life never ceases to amaze me. after 3 episodes today, i nearly wanted to just break down crying from how beautiful the program is.
who am i? who do i want to be?
i have arrived at a time in my life that very few people get. to become someone new. someone different. change all that stuff about me that i didn't like, and just like that, wake up and be someone different.
so far, i am different. but i am so much the same.

i am flying solo.

self-sufficient, i believe the movies and advertisements refer to it as. all in all, i'm doing pretty good. i am employed, i live in an amazing place, i have wonderful roommates, and at the end of the day, i am full and warm.
but it is this question of identity that i am currently struggling with.
who am i? what kinds of morals do i have? what kind of drive and motivation do i have? where are my most creative moments, and how to harness them? where am i going? where do i want to be?
so many questions. i just need an all-seeing prophet to come in and give me the answers. because i will try damn near anything, probably stumble for a little bit, and then try to jog before i can run.

truth takes time, i suppose. but what can i do in the meantime? where can i go, who can i meet, and how can i be more proactive?

make your damn decisions, brian.

1,925 miles.

2009-12-14T18:38:00.002-06:00

he was a pretty average size for his age. he preferred his hair close to his head, and his mom close close to his side. he was always a member of the clean plate club on spaghetti night, but wouldn't dream of touching cooked peas. the best way to start out the day was to go to church with sister and mom. it was pretty boring, but it was a nice buffer between "home" and "school"

after-lunch gym was the best hour of the day, especially when scooters were brought out.
he loved singing, and wasn't quite sure if he wanted to play saxophone, trumpet, drums, or just not play anything.
extreme stress consisted of taking a multiplication test, and not passing spelling. being a "C" student wasn't an issue, as long as it was spaghetti night. he was happy.

a few years later, he could stand to lose a few pounds, and gain a few friends. he was shocked when someone made a boob joke the first day of 7th grade. what he would then describe as "trials and tribulations" followed, but he held his trumpet high and kept his nose in the books. he could work on his handwriting on mr. grant's 7 line spelling worksheets, and could decorate his locker to make it a home away from home. he found good friendships, but wouldn't appreciate them fully until his friends were....far away, working on their own lives.

he soon opened the door and stepped onto his college campus, ready to change.his.life. goodbye mom, goodbye dad! hello decisions!
he felt so free in the sunlight. ready for anything, always with an empty bank account but a full schedule. he was on his perfect island, surrounded by knowledge and self-reflection.

his love for friends grew. grew so beautifully. showed him how much you can rely on them, and how rich experiences with them can be.
so it was odd that he would accept a job across the country without hesitation. "college all over again" he would say in his head, hopeful.

but here he sits, still thinking of ways to define this period of life. to get through the darkness and cold of winter into spring. he could still stand to lose a few pounds and gain a few friends, and makes himself too much spaghetti. but he's not so sure about the rest.

because what he does in the next few years defines where he'll be in the next 80.
and he doesn't want to disappoint himself. or you.

so what should he do?

too late

2009-10-22T21:54:00.006-05:00

sitting at my work desk, listening to my customary radio station,
"and now we're going to plan an oldie..."

and as the piano-heavy beginning goes through my earphones, my brain sparked.

it wasn't all that long ago, but it was ages ago.

it was ages ago that you sent me that message, called me.
it wasn't that long ago that we talked. for hours, for days.

it wasn't that long ago that i was being softly pushed over by the sound of your voice.
you relied on me, appreciated my advice, and i just loved talking to you, i loved being your support through that rough time.
i looked forward to that every day. it was my drug.

"i found a great new band, they're called 'onerepublic'"
now, this was before anyone had even heard of onerepublic, before their album, before 'apologize' even had 10,000 listens on myspace. i listened, i loved. I loved that it reminded me of you, it brought me back to our conversations.

you seemed to have such a solid grasp on your emotions, and wouldn't hesitate to make me feel so unbelievably special.

i continued listening, and as i was listening one afternoon, you called. we talked midday just because you felt like chatting. nothing pressing, nothing wild- just wanted to say hello. i don't know why i appreciated that so much, but i did. and i don't know why that stands out so much in my memory of that time, but it does.

it was so good to finally see you at that conference we were both looking forward to- so good to finally hug you and talk in person, and be together.

but it was too bad that as i was leaving, i could feel that this was the end. after finally being together, this was somehow the end. i could feel your disconnect. i knew it was there. that was how it started.

and you didn't call back.
and then we didn't talk so much.

and before i know it, i'm feeling stupid for not realizing earlier that i was no longer who you were talking to, who you were confiding in. i wasn't so special anymore.

and after dead-end calls and text messages, i had no where to turn to.
so i began the painful process of forgetting, of covering up and putting the walls back up. but everytime that song played, a few bricks fell out of those walls.

and i will say that i never appreciated you referring to our friendship as you "dealing with" me when talking with mutual friends. never have, never will.

and if i saw you today, i would just want to say, plainly, "you're an ass." but i know that i would look in those eyes of yours and long for nothing more than that short time that things were....wonderful.

i hate that it's so ironic and oddly out of some lifetime movie, but...it really is too late to apologize.
and after 2ish years, i really don't care.
but you're still an ass.

entertainment

2009-09-21T20:19:00.003-05:00

...and tomorrow, i'll be watching the following from row F:

all mankind are now your brothers.

....growing up is weird.

eurotrash

2009-09-17T19:51:00.007-05:00

musically, i haven't found anything worth noting in a long time.
i've been standing by the old stand-by's. ugh.

and as i slowly get used to the shock of moving to such a foreign place, a small rocket exploded in my front yard.

i was admittedly in kind of a rut, emotionally, surroundings, at work, in general.
i was playing around with my widgets on my work computer (thank you so much, apple) and i was looking through this one that had a ton of radio stations.
being bored with my usual morning talk radio podcast, i decided to log onto the widget and try some new babes out.

damn, not working.

damn, updated it and still not working.

damn, not working but i can get a small list which has "bbc" on it.

oooh, i look up "bbc radio" and get excited, knowing that this is my friend tony's favorite news organization. i'm down with the news, i suppose.

little did i know that what awaited me on the other side of the stereo speakers would lead to two of the best days i've had since i arrived in boston.

bbc radio 1 seems to be a pandora station that is tuned to my exact tastes. the dj's are wonderful, funny, and all have british/scottish accents.
in a word, wonderful.

and i know my way around foreign radio. i listened to a station out of paris for a while with few positive results, other than listening to the most beautiful language in the world. virgin radio:dubai is pretty good but overrun with american top 40's hits. but "bbc radio 1" by far trumps every other radio station that i have listened to. ever. it's so....hip, cutting edge. i listened for an hour or two and wrote down nearly every song.

it was so odd to hear a long that i LOVED after a song that i LOVED, both of them, i am hearing for the first time.

my iTuned library is swelling, as is my ipod!

one of my odd favorites: la roux
'quicksand' is a brilliant morning song,
'i'm not your toy' for the afternoon.

oh, i don't want this to stop.
and this wasn't the beginning, but this certainly tipped the scales.
this has certainly fixed my emotional rut and i could not get to sleep last night because i was dreaming about design. designing something, anything.

gross.

but i love it.

and now i have a complete obsession with moving to the UK.
which i never really had, even after coming back.

i think that some part of me things, if i can move to new england, i can move to england.

oh, taxes!

on life

2009-08-16T18:34:00.003-05:00

"independence"

i've come to the conclusion that the term is a lot scarier than i originally imagined.

whenever i would lament about an action, my dad would always say, simply, in his usual fatherly-advice tone, "hindsight is 20/20." although it gave me no comfort, i knew he was right.

perhaps it was this way of childhood that set-up my incessant "20/20 hindsight" view of life.
for instance, growing up, i loathed my hometown, my homestate. i let my mom know that as soon as i was of age, i was outta there! it was only after i left for an extended period that i began to long for the comforts of home. the safety net of being home. and i began to appreciate the goodness of my hometown, my homestate. It is a place full of memories and roots in a world that is so full of new places. After traveling for so long, it was those hometown nooks, crannies, avenues, and alleys that held special memories that I began to appreciate, and longed to be in, to inhabit.
Even exploring with someone else meant a shared experience. perhaps i would call years later and start out with "remember that time that we..."
on the other hand..."living in the past"
...but i think this is different. appreciating the past, with an eye for the future. remembering roots and springing from them to someplace/somewhere new.

and as i make my transition to independence, i have good days and bad days.
but am i really ready to be a big boy?
pay my own bills, be responsible for all of my debt? buy myself a car? buy myself a house? find myself a someone and live happily ever after?

this one threw me for a loop. moving across the country.
it's so.....permament.
this is both good and bad.
in the good column, i get to lead my own life, be my own man, start fresh, buy my own things, not to mention being employed in an ultra-unemployment time, i could write a million more things on this list.
but in the....difficult column, i am indeed independent and alone. i realize that this is somewhat temporary, but i need to look forward and become the brian i am meant to be. i need to look past my grievances and hold the now close.

i suppose that my heart is a little sad.
i love my friends, i love getting coffee, chatting, brief encounters,
they are my context.
and i have no context here.
i am.....new.

it's so weird having your entire life a phone call away.

and in a land that holds the smartest people in the land, it's hard to hold my own being so insecure and newly hatched. recent banter with work people held the discussion of where we all would want to live, to which i chime in "i don't think i could ever live south of the mason-dixon" to which one of them said something along the lines of "i agree, but it would be so freeing because it seems like they don't really worry so much about self-reflection." although generalized, it got my brain a-churning.
it brought to mind two lives:
southerner:
sitting on the porch, plucking at a banjo with 3-4 best friends around, singing, drinking, laughing.
new englander:
sitting at a windowside table, late evening out, quiet lighting beside the book while reading and writing a little.

but then my thought process implodes on itself. who actually does that shit? aren't there drunks in new england? aren't there intellectuals in the south?
i hate generalizations, yet i find myself relying on them to form a majority of my thoughts and conversation.

i guess i'm just doing a little soul searching.
the who-am-i who-do-i-want-to-be type.

so i guess my goal is to know what to appreciate when it happens, instead of appreciating it.....later.

in other news, my family visited me!
it turned my mind upside down, and brought the comforts of home to my new location.
i'm still deciding if this will make living out here easier, or harder.
stay tuned.

i loved being with them. too much.
i need to make a beeline for the midwest. stat!

i'm off to watch a favorite: benjamin button while having a glass of wine. and self-reflect while drinking. happy medium?

the couch

2009-08-04T19:26:00.002-05:00

it's days like today that make me want to jump into a time machine, spin for a bit, and get out. get out to anytime before june, 09.

and appreciate everything about the time, day, year, that i was home.
i don't think it's homesickness.

it's just...being so damn far away.
and it was a rough day.
and i suppose that i'm just looking for a piece of comfort. something that is so abounding in a few cities 2000 miles away.

new england

2009-07-09T19:23:00.002-05:00

rarely am i bewitched so fully by a song.

outside the cars are beeping out a song just in your honour.
and though they do not know it,
all mankind are now your brothers.
and thus the cathedral had spoken, wishing well to all our sinners.
and with a sigh grew silent.

sigh.
now that things have calmed down:
i have my apartment in order,
i am getting used to the job,
i am knowing the area that i live in,
i am reading those books i have longed to read for so long,
i am eating healthy,
i am exercising regularly.

i can't see an end to it.

don't get me wrong, i enjoy it here.......
but i can't help but be discouraged by how....ordinary it all is.
how ordinary i feel.

i get up, i go to work, i eat, i do something menial, i sleep.
day in, day out.
as long as i shall live.

my life comes in packets. breakfast, coffee break, lunch, 4 hour afternoon of work, evening diet coke, evening run, etc. i can change one slightly.

excuse me, excitement, please come visit me during the week like you used to.
i am 3 weeks into the "rest of my life" phase and all i can see is planning vacations and time off and looking forward to the weekends. the weekends never last long enough.
how ordinary and suburban it all is.

oh my god, oh my god, is this it?
is this really it?

but perhaps this job, area, phase are just transitional. perhaps this is all quite more temporary than i think.

i can't help but see myself, old, aged, gray, chatting with an old friend about the good 'ol days and saying, quite simply "yeah, and then i got that job and haven't really been able to do anything crazy for a while"

work is full of tired faces. faces that have been working too long, too hard, and faces that didn't enjoy their weekends as much as they should have.
faces not full of life, imagination.
faces full of business.

is this the creative outlet i look for,
is this a group of too-worn professionals,
or, my biggest fear...
if this a group of overworked young people that never had the balls to switch over to what they really wanted?

is this a time of decisive decision?
but the unknown is so....unknown.
having nothing below my feet is frightening.

walden pond

2009-06-17T19:28:00.003-05:00

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.
-thoreau

this, the place where he wrote, is my backyard.
incredible.

matthew, jenny, you both need to be out here. asap!

hello, goodbye

2009-06-08T10:16:00.002-05:00

heeeeeerrrrreeee i gggggggooooooooo!

because 1,994 miles just can't be wrong.
farewell, my love: my homestate.

phillip

2009-06-01T23:15:00.005-05:00

yes, that was his name.

imagine: young, bright-eyed brian.
at college orientation.
the one day of "thanks for paying us, here's what you have to look forward to..."

it was an unbelievably sunny day, the clouds and sky were interlocking perfectly to make this one of those days that makes you glad. just glad to be.
my attitude was excited, ready for this adventure.
it was time to change. time to better, time to make a million friends.

out was my high school days, and
in was my search for higher education, for betterment.

my chance to pursue what i love.

so, they herded the group of us all around what seemed like a huge campus.
the day started out alright. a lot of lectures about how to be a freshmen, how to cheer at football games, how to fit into this brilliant new community, how to live away from home, etc, etc...

while walking to our lecture on 'why not to have candles in the dorms', i made a friend,
phillip,
from south dakota who was kind of unsure about his major, but i believe was leaning towards some kind of engineering.
we chatted, we made nice. i think we were both trying to make a new friend, our first in this world known as "college."
phillip seemed extremely nice and we exchanged mutual alarm for our potential roommates. i though "man, if my roommate is someone like this, college will be awesome!"
turns out that our dorms were on completely opposite sides of campus.
but phillip remained someone that i made conversation easily with, and seemed pretty cool.

phillip and i took our math placement test next to each other, and then we separated and went off on some major-specific meetings.
at lunch, i looked for him, but nothing. everyone else seemed to know each other and were talking hurriedly in their groups, so i decided to saddle up to a tall chair on a table by myself, and pray to god that some kind soul would take pity on me and want to meet a new friend as badly as i wanted to.
most of my meal consisted of me sweating and thinking "should i just awkwardly move to one of those full-ish tables?," when some girl from hazen sat down next to me and started grilling me about my life. upon me asking "where is hazen again?" she gave me a blank stare, said "60 miles from your hometown" and afterwards seemed completely disinterested in talking to me. so much for a new friend. where was phillip?

but the rest of the day was spent on mildly interesting games/activities/meetings for both me and my mother getting us "ready" for college. i didn't see phillip for the rest of the day.

over freshmen year, i saw him a few times in the dining center or by the engineering/architecture buildings. we never acknowledged eachother, but a ping of memory came to me as i remembered my first "friend" in college.
as far as i know, i didn't see him throughout sophomore, junior, senior, or super-senior year.

needless to say, it seemed oddly perfect. oddly planned, to have phillip walk into my workplace on my last day of working.
on my last day in my college town.
he was older, a little heavier, and a little scruffy, but it was him, i thought.

it had been 5 years since we talked. and in that time, a world had opened up to me.
to both of us.

he was sending something home to south dakota, and i felt no feeling of recognition from him.
but i was reinforced when i ran his credit card and "phillip ______" came up.

i thought about saying something, but thought that it would have come across as creepy.
but, sitting here, writing this, i regret that decision, days ago, to say nothing.

did he graduate?
what was he doing now?
was he just visiting, or did he live here?
is he still with that girl he was talking about?
did he recognize me at all?

i wanted to know if the years had been as kind and as inspirational and as trying for him as they had been for me. i wanted to know if he had seen as much personal change as i have.

i wanted to talk with my fellow bright-eyed friend from all those years ago and exchange stories from our days at college.

looking back, it seemed like a sign from somewhere else that we should meet that day.
that my first friend from my first day of college should visit me on
my last day of work after my last day of school in my college town as i was getting ready to leave.

oddly perfect.

i suppose that it put the last 5 years into perspective. thinking about our first meeting and thinking about our (supposed) last meeting.

i miss you freshman phillip, i wish we had been better friends.

phillip, my bookends.

adventures in solitude.

2009-05-26T23:22:00.007-05:00

ugh.

so many of the dials in my life have turned in "changing."
student status
next phase of life
city
state
region of country
friend base within 1,000 miles
etc,etc.

suffice to say that nearly everything in my life is changing, with the exception of those who love me. and who i love.

and just as i prepare to leave, just as i become ready to leave, i find a reason to stay. which isn't really a reason at all, just a hope. a hopeless hope.
i know better. but he called me incredible.
incredible.

i am extremely disappointed with california.
in case you didn't hear, they upheld the ban on gay marriage.
i know, i know- hotbutton issue.
and think what you will about the subject, but it made me feel rather melancholy all day.

the law of the land said that i am not worthy of equality.
that i should not be able to marry the person i love.

and i just wanted to fly out there, and shake somebody while proclaiming "i am a real person, i have real emotions just like you."
it just blows my mind.
i sat there listening to NPR and listened to the teared voices of those opposing proposition 8, saying, in desperation, that they need to go door to door and make everyone realize that we are real people. saying that we need to try harder for equality, and raise more awareness, and get out in the communities more.
and it just.....gets to me.
california: national base of the gays (sanfran) can't even pass marriage equality laws. and i'm sure if that same bill came through north dakota, it would be laughed off of the floor.

this is circumstantial, of course. but i can't imagine that a state that doesn't even support gays as a protected class for job placement would exactly allow us to marry.

i guess i can only hope that future sessions will produce different results.
and thank god for those wise enough to take on the fight.

-----
next section.

if i move 2,000 miles away, promise not to think that i am running away?

as my days in the nodak tick to single digits, it kind of pulls at my heart strings to think that i won't be living here. this weekend, i took hwy 52 from fargo to the northwest. this is my favorite route to take. it's so beautiful.
no cities, few towns,
mostly the rolling hills of north dakota, rolling towards and away from me. green and glorious, almost singing a peaceful song as the sun sets over their brims.
and although i had a pretty fair piece of contempt for this "boring land" throughout my high school years,
my college travels and experience has brought me to appreciate the life and the land of north dakota for what it is.
and i think it's one of the most beautiful states in the union.

because, dammit, it is beautiful.

......!

2009-05-13T22:47:00.000-05:00

this....this is big news.

what?

2009-04-29T20:48:00.003-05:00

(breath out, closes eyes)
[humbled.]

you deserve it just as much as we do. and you, and you, and you (x70)

but seriously though.....
these 5 years should not come down to this.
this one thing.

it's 5 years of laughs, memories, tears, good times, bad times, deadlines, 5am's, classes, being crazy.

5 years full of everything that i will miss.
and it's coming down to that.

and as our days together go from double to single digits, i fully expect to shed a few tears. call me a girl. i don't really care about that.

it's too important.
and, dammit, i will miss.....everything about these past years.

keep on keepin on

2009-04-16T19:38:00.003-05:00

just today, amid the chaos and insanity of finishing thesis, i grabbed a meal.

rarely do i eat at taco johns, but i felt like a childhood standby: a place that defined much of my elementary and highschool out-to-eat experiences.
also, a place that i went with my parents just a few weeks ago.

so, there i was within the confines of tj's by myself, grilled chicken burrito in hand.

when i noticed the couple next to me:
silence.

not one word throughout their entire meal.
sure, some people could look at this as "whoa, bad relationship."

but i found it.....beautiful?
the beauty of the silence between two people.
i feel that much of a relationship, romantic or otherwise, lies in what is not said.

the comfort of silence between two.

that is all.
now, please, pray or whatever, that i may finish this shit, get a damn degree, and be released into the wild.

dempseys

2009-04-13T19:00:00.004-05:00

i swear i'll do my best to comply.
tell me, am i right to think that there could be nothing better?

wait.....what are we talking about here?
shit.
missed timelines.
unmatching timelines.

in 2 situations.
damn.
who couldn't this happen....2 years ago?
1 year ago.

just not a month before i leave fargo.
leave for probably forever.

i'll be your winter coat, buttoned and zipped straight to the throat
with the collar up
so you won't catch a cold.
i want to take you far
from the cynics in this town.

we'll cut our bodies free from the tethers of this scene
start a brand new colony
there everything will change.
we'll give ourselves new names.
identities erased.
the sun will heat the ground
under our bare feet.
in this brand new colony.

also, we'll see if i get my thesis done.

too, i miss my coffee dates with jenny c.
may you love england just a little bit more "!"

more than just a movie

2009-03-24T23:47:00.003-05:00

top floor apartment, roof on 2 sides.
the melodic, soothing trickle of rain on the other side of the barrier.

unease.

fargo, you have my heart!
i was educated in minot. i grew up in fargo.
i am who i am because of fargo.
i am an adult, shaped by the context of fargo.
the most important events of my life happened in fargo.
fargo has been my life for 5 years.

so, believe me when i say that my heart strains at the idea of her being submerged. of the great people of this city being out of everything. for, i believe that the people make this place.
fargo is ugly.
the land is ugly.
the people are wonderful.

i showed up, and thousands of people were volunteering. volunteering for no other reason than "we need to save this." just helping for the sake of helping other people. there are elaborate setups, elaborate busing systems, elaborate dike building efforts, all through good nature and volunteering.
in the paper, they estimated that over 20,000 people were helping out round the clock.

that's.....amazing.

and sure, i will admit that i get a little choked up thinking about this whole thing.
saving fargo.

and it gives me chills to see the city on the national news.
if this is what it takes, i don't want f/m to be there.

i want to protect this place that has become so important to me, so necessary, so unbelievably shaping of my life.
in hard times, it was the streets of fargo that i disappeared to.
it was the bars that i got drunk in.
it was the houses that i laughed in.
it was the buildings that i created in.
it was the context that formed me.

fargo, you will always have my heart.
and i'm damn worried about you.

cripes!

2009-03-03T23:57:00.002-06:00

i hate these weeks.
too much to do. not enough time.
complain, complain, complain.

today, i had the most bizarre thing happen.
i got so nervous, i wanted to ralph.
it's never happened before.
and, really, the reason wasn't even a very good one.
all i could do all morning was lay in bed and listen to "this american life"
for hours. i turned my heating blanket on high, and after a short nap, was in a pool of my own sweat.
i tried to calm down, to not think about the event.
but i was just....crazy.

i am spiraling.

tan sweatshirt.

2009-02-22T02:01:00.003-06:00

apologies for the explicit nature of this post.

a text message.
old friends. good friends. in town. wanting to go to "the i-beam."
ugh. the gay bar. known for sleazy clientele, sleazy evenings.
but i obliged.
i've been single for 6 months.
"i want to find myself." i said back then.
but here i am, just.......lonely.
just wanting someone to be with. someone to care for.
and it's not sleazy, not contrived or immoral.
just someone to talk to, without ulterior motives. someone to care for, to watch movies with. to cook dinners with.

after a quick scan of the bar, only one fellow caught my eye.
he was there, in his tan sweater, looking debonaire with a quiet confidence.
completely attractive. perhaps a guitar player?
definitely the artistic, creative type.
completely attractive.

completely talking with someone else.
dissapointing, yes.
but the two of us locked eyes. my heart raced as he smiled.
but continued talking.

"let's go dancing" my group said.

let me divorce myself from accepted stereotypes.
i enjoy dancing. i enjoy letting myself go. being free. just....feeling the music go through me.
i danced. i enjoyed it. i let loose. i was a fool!

and then i noticed him.
tan sweater. he was watching from the sidelines. and the guy he was talking to clearly followed him into the room and was trying to continue conversation.

was i drunk, or was he staring at me?
was i drunk, or was my heart racing?

he was there, on the sidelines. he followed me.....?
i tried to maintain sporadic eye contact, but the lights and shadows were too much.
the music, louder and louder.
i look over my shoulder, we made eye contact.

again, my heart races.

and i look back.
and he's gone.

gone.

he was there for about an hour. and then he and the guy he was talking with were gone.

did they fall into the sleazy category?

in any event, the endless romance i was building in my mind just fell into pieces.
instead of chatting for hours, instead of cooking meals, instead of getting to know him,
i left alone.
completely alone.

buzzkill.
where will he be tomorrow?

revolutionary road

2009-02-11T22:24:00.003-06:00

rarely do i own up to analyzing movies.
i leave that up to matt.
i leave that up to michael.
because they are brilliant at that, and sound brilliant doing it.

frankly, they know what they're talking about. not me.
i know what i like, but i cannot sound intelligent in the realm of film criticism and analysis.

revolutionary road.
kate winslet, leonardo dicaprio. instantly, i roll my eyes at the re-assemblage of the titanic cast. no doubt, this movie is aiming at the now-20somethings that worshipped the "ok" film at the time. i recall the buzz, and i recall dismissing it, almost instantly.

so there i was, seeing (insert film) at (insert theatre) when i was was surprised:
rarely do movie previews engage me like this one did.

the preview, in a word: beautiful.
the music, the cinematography, the film-stitching, the dialogue, the use of helvetica.
i saw the preview and instantly thought "i need to see this."

not to mention that it deals with the blandness and monotony of suburbia, which is something that my thesis deals with. and therefore has been on my mind as of late.

look at us. we're just like everyone else.
we've bought into the same ridiculous delusions.
this idea that you have to settle down and reside for life.

(insert movie synopsis, available on any major site about the film)

i decided that i would take some customary "brian time" and see the film.
i was homeworking all day.
i was tired.
i was weary.
i needed brian time.

so i looked up times, i got into my car, i paid my money, i bought my popcorn and soda(i never do this), and i saw.

i saw revolutionary road.
i loved revolutionary road.

it was so powerful, so complex that i just needed silence on the whole drive home. i couldn't talk, i couldn't listen. i just needed to think.
i need a drink to cope with the emotional rollercoaster i have just been on.

emotionally complex movies are my favorite. my absolute favorite.
and movies with smart dialogue.

i think i loved every minute of it. beginning to end.

the emotional complexities of 1950's suburbia, presented beautifully.
the emotional complexities of marriage,
of neighbors,
of trying to appear normal,
of hard decisions and dreams.

i have since downloaded the music, bought the book, and illegally downloaded the film.
and i will be first in line to buy it on dvd.

we can't go on pretending that this is the life we wanted.

musee du louvre au paris

2009-02-06T18:16:00.003-06:00

"so, brian, what's your favorite memory?"

ah, the dreaded question. my mind instantly asks itself how i can get out of this situation without sounding like a pretentious asshole.

but how can one encapsulate a moment so intense in just a sentence or two? encapsulate an evening in a sentence?

language has so many barriers.

i am a planner.

when it comes to trips, i schedule, i book, i plan, i research, i print maps, i know what the hell i'm doing. i would like to pat my own back and say "i'm great to travel with," but i fear my need for planning can be stressful to be accompanied by. i may be painting myself as a hitler-type 'planner' type-a personality that does not accept deviance...not the case. i'm always up for a brewski, suggestions, etc. i suppose you could say that as long as everyone involved is having fun, i'm ok.

but really, i'm pretty carefree as long as i know where i am, and that i have the ability to get home. call me an idiot, irrational, etc.... it's just who i am.

needless to say, traveling to europe was a little rough on the planning department within my brain.

paris. the first stop. we arrived three days early to take in the city of romance before jetting over to napoli, italia (the asshole of the world). so, paris was the testing ground.

we passed the "overseas" test! after a day, our bellies were full, we slept in beds, we had water! european vacations are no sweat! i will say that we ran into many stressful situations, such as how to get into the city via the metro, how to hop on a bus and know where it was going, how to order a sandwich at some "penne di pain" restaurant, and how to overcome the stupid american stereotype. i was so fresh! i was so new! i handled everything wrong in paris.

we were a big, bumbling tour group, hellbent on seeing the eiffel tower and mona lisa. idiots.

how we got out alive and on our plane, i will not know.

thank god for the 90 pound french lady that we later dubbed "the magical fairy."

she got us out alive. without speaking a lick of english.

(insert the next 9.5 weeks of gaining foreign experience)

going overseas makes you rely on body language and universal truths,as opposed to language. it takes a while to communicate with someone without using language. but it is life changing.

SO, there i was, 10+ weeks into my 11.5 week euro vacay. i was unstoppable.

and so began the final leg of the european tour, "paris and london."

returning to paris.

the city of love means so much to me. it was the first place i went, bright eyed and ready for anything, and after 9 weeks of touring, i returned and it was also the last non-english speaking place i went.

that's the beginning of my favorite memory.

for this, the last leg of the tour, we didn't have traditional professors on the track to being tenured. no, we had two TA's. both of who were double majors in art.

they.were.awesome.

we all met at paris' pantheon, and they proverbially kicked us in the face by beginning with

"this will be known as the leg of endurance."

at 10+ weeks of being overseas, this is not what the 7 of us wanted to hear.

yes, just 7. the first tour had 30something.

it was just us.

sara

jordan

jess

cole

brent

nikki

brian.

we were tired, we were worn. but we were ready for paris. (for me, again)

our first sketching assignment consisted of 10 gesture drawings of the building, and then a lengthy discussion about why we sketched what we did.

all of the other tours just said "ok...go and sketch...or something."

but jen and amanda had something completely different in mind.

this was going to be tough.

this was going to be long.

this was going to be the best learning experience of my life.

we traveled the city, our tour in tow, and our game faces on.

by the end, there was blood(literally), tears(literally), large amounts of sweat(literally), and (most literally) lots of alcohol.

the best beer i have ever had was on this tour. it was not the brand, it was not the amount of hops, it was not how long it was brewed, it was the circumstances.

but that's another story.

the day in question was one of our last in paris. we spent the morning touring. at about noon, we had some free time (we had not had that before during this tour...!) and the option of meeting the group under the eiffel tower for some late-night meals, drinks, etc.

i decided to be bold and head out (by myself) to the parc de la villette. 2 years prior, i had to write a 10 page paper on christian de portzamparc, one of france's most notorious architects, and two of his most famous buildings were within the confines of the park.

i put on my mp3 playa, i bought my metro ticket, i got on the metro, i made all of the necessary changes at the appropriate stops (all interactions in french, mind you), and 45 minutes later, i was in suburban paris, enjoying one of the architectural icons that i only dreamed i would ever set foot in. it was the most brilliant park i've ever been in. people, activity everywhere.

i valued the alone time. after leaving the US, i basically had no privacy. this time alone was a rare pleasure, and i didn't realize how much i enjoyed alone time.

i was hungry. i found some burger-king rip-off place, and proceeded to order a burger combo in french. it felt awesome. i was in paris. not looking quite like an outrageous american tourist, and dammit, i was ordering food. and for the first time, i didn't start out with parlez vouz inglese? all too soon, i realized it was time to head back to la tour eiffel and meet the rest for some outrageous evening.

although the exact details remain hazy, i do know there was food. it was your typical meal, typical conversation.

until it started raining.

until it started pouring.

three of our group decided to go back to the hostel immediately to sleep while the remaining 4 of us were going to find a good bar after a long day. our guides decided to walk with us, with the intention of finding a taxi to head back to their hotel.

we walked in the rain.

we all complained that our sketchbooks were going to get wet and ruined.

all of our stuff was going to get wet.

we all freaked. "i can't be out in this very long. my sketches!"

our sketches were unbelievably important.

one moment, many feelings, minutes?, hours? all of it was encapsulated in the motion of holding your pencil to the paper and producing something that was completely you. completely from you. completely yours. they are worth more than memories, pictures, and feelings combined, because they combine all three in a synthesis unmatched by anything else i have encountered. my europe sketchbooks are extremely personal. extremely valuable. extremely important.

but just to me.

and they were in danger of being ruined.

after we all pooled our resources and tried a series of plastic bags, rubber knapsacks, and layering clothes over them, we realized it was a losing battle.

we were soaked.

the rain was coming down in droves. no sign of letting up.

we were still walking.

walking in a primarily residential neighborhood on the banks of the seine. a very parisian neighborhood.

our tour leaders decided that hailing a cab was useless and took on the task of joining us in our quest for some spirits.

after realizing that we were all soaked through, body and soul, by the warm rains of paris, we gave in.

we were wet. we were staying wet. we were accepting it.

then, somebody (not me) yells "wait! we're right next to the louvre!"

we change heading slightly, and head to the louvre.

nobody knew why.

we got there, and stopped. it's majesty, being overtaken by the darkness of night, being overtaken by the power of rain. and dimly lit by the globes in the plaza. it was a different world. a different louvre. it was brooding in it's drenched state, but still standing proud. we walked around.

and then we started playing.

we threw off our bags, we slid on the stone benches, we climbed in the fountains, we splashed eachother.

amanda brought out her mechanical plastic flying bird she had bought the day before, and we all took turns cranking it up, and seeing who could get it to fly the farthest, while chasing it as fast as we could, sliding on the stone. we fell over, we stood up, we tried again.

we splashed, we climbed into the fountains. we swam. we stood up, we climbed, we yelled, we screamed. it was freedom. joy. pure.

zoom out.

the refined second-empire louvre building, standing for structure, power, and wealth. juxtaposed with the modern glass pyramids. truly, this building is one of the most prominent architectural icons in the world. the world. now add in nighttime, dim lighting, and vast amounts of rain and water. now add americans, drenched through the shoes, to the bone.

not giving a damn.

it was just the 5 os us, letting out inhibitions get the better of us while playing in a place as important and meaningful as the louvre.

instead of planning and worrying, i was looking into the sky, rain falling on my face, wanting more to come. never wanting this to end.

i didn't care about my sketchbook.

i didn't care how long this was going to take.

i didn't care how in debt i was.

i was in love. in love with the moment.

in love with freedom, with not giving a damn, with fun.

we played for what seemed like hours.

and in some ways, it never ended.

eventually sleep came, as did the next day. and the day after.

and, by some act of god, none of our sketchbooks got overly wet.

but the watermarks that do remain hold power and importance with a new meaning.

before i knew it, i was speaking english, my passport was being checked, and i was once again in the embrace of my parents, back in the northland.

and everytime it rains, i remember.

remember when i was free.

remember when i didn't care.

remember when i fell in love.

"below average"

2009-01-31T00:50:00.002-06:00

i ruined at least 8 people's days today.
well...am going to ruin their days.

i show up to class, and i give my students advice.

wait.....what?! there is nothing right with this sentence.
"give advice?"
"my students?"
it's bizarre, i know.
the deal: (without being too specific) one of my bff's and myself are in charge of one of the sections of the freshmen architectural foundation classes. we have fun, we laugh, we get our shit done.

alas, project one is complete and handed in as of wednesday. hooray.
and now, the terrible world of grading semi-subjective things.

we handed out at least 8 D's.
and to be honest, i feel like shit.

there were some brilliant projects that must have taken days, weeks to complete.
and there was the opposite.

it's a completely irrational projection, but i think of myself, sitting on that stool, excited to get my grade back, only to be blindsided by a D.
i mean, jesus....we all know that sucks, right?
and here i am, the undertaker.

ugh, it's quite a different pair of shoes being on the other side of grading.
i have a much larger perspective.

perspective

2009-01-29T10:23:00.003-06:00

it was july.
it was insatiably sunny.
it was the early 1990's.

sitting in my parent's kitchen in the middle of the day (it was summer vacay, you see) i decided to pass on one more homemade popsicle from the freezer (mmmmm, cherry), flow through the door, and out into the blaring sunshine when it hit me.
"i don't want to be a kid anymore."
it's odd how i can clearly remember myself, walking up and down the boulevard on 5th street, (no doubt being watched by all of our 80+ year old neighbors) and wanting nothing more than to be a 20something, with all that independence, freedom, and money. cha-ching!

i can remember thinking that 25 was the ultimate age.
your own house,
your own car,
your own wife,
your own income,
your own everything.

as a kid, i was trapped inside all day, was ruled by my parents, constantly wanting more out of life. i wanted to explore and discover, dammit! and i was getting tired of the shitty sand in the sandbox.

now, as a semi-adult, i long for that time back.
instead of looming deadlines, i had tv schedules to remember.
instead of writing papers, i had pools to fill.
instead of rent to pay, i had disney movies to watch.
instead of paying for groceries, i could yell "mom! what's for dinner?!"

although.......i don't have to mow the grass anymore.

i miss spending so much time with my parents. now that they're suh-weet.

blast!

allow me to be cliche, but
"you don't know what you got till it's gone."
and that's the thought of the day.

starting now.

k a j d

2009-01-26T00:20:00.005-06:00

and i suppose it was that cold november day that started it all, all that time ago.

me, standing in my kitchen, alone, hellbent on finishing a bottle of wine, as well as the moves to the electric slide.

(check! and....check!)

and the phone rings.

things are much different now. i found your notes, cards, etc.

and i realize now that they never really held as many emotions as i thought they did.

perhaps it didn't start that cold november day, but much before on that warm august day at

lauriol plaza.

change the cast.

perfect. safe.

so safe.

but so risky.

but perhaps it was that october day.

and i've fallen head over heels. and realized, coldly, that it was just a silly dream.

a silly dream with a silly ending. and (in hindsight) a silly beginning.

that's how they all go. for me at least.

no, definitely not october.

so, i don't know why you're contacting me again now. or why you want to mend bridges. i've wasted too much of my heart on you. and i'm just frankly tired of it.

of you.

i'm tired of that smile, those messages, that history.

i won't be used. again.

i miss the idea, not the reality.

truth takes time

2009-01-25T00:37:00.003-06:00

"i don't know that i agree with most of these assumptions you're making here."

damn.

and that was friday.

and i wait.

wait for something worthwhile to come to mind.

something that doesn't involve design.

or my thesis.

i really don't want this journal to become a list of inadequacies that i have with myself.

or about complaining about my life.

which, really, in the grand scheme of things, is pretty spectacular.

and, in a few months, the "school" chapter of my life will end, and the "real world" chapter will begin. with the turn of a life page, a new story will unfold.

and that, quite frankly, scares me. from my grown-up head to my toes. it scares me.

literally, figuratively, creatively, immediately.

on the one hand it's scary, but on the other: extremely exciting.

freedom.

i could be anywhere doing anything in 6 months. literally.

(i didn't tell you this, but i'm focusing my job search in the philadelphia area.....i fell in love.)

but i want to be happy.

and be able to pay off my ample amount of student loans. call me a realist.

perhaps the scariest part will be saying farewell to the daily conversations with great friends. the chance to see everyone on a regular basis.

we have all grown up and changed so much through these 5 years.

we've grown together.

like a vine or a tree. 70 of us.

beautiful stories, wonderful memories, and acquaintances will fade.

and before too long we will each have run-ins with people that look like someone we used to know.

we will measure each other by success and failure.

by jobs and family.

by bottom lines.

some will surprise, some will remain exactly the same.

how will i fit? how will i transfer to a new vine?

i haven't even planted my seeds. or decided which side of the house.

i just hope i end up on the south side. because i love the sun.

swagger

2009-01-20T14:57:00.000-06:00

i fell off the deep end today.

i spent time researching politicians handwriting.

and i love barack obama's.

george w bush's on the other hand.... (no pun intended)

after the whole inauguration business, president obama sat down, and started signing a slough of official papers, with his LEFT HAND.

now, left-handedness has always been a point of contention within my family. being usually atypical as we are, 4 of the 6 members are left handed. only the twins are righties.

and the rest, as they say, is a left handed history.

we have a coffee mug that is lined with a chorus of soft bears raising their left hands while the cup proclaims "lefties do it right!" and my ehtire childhood was full of general pro-left handed jargon. as a rightey, i was discriminated against. see....atypical.

i can clearly remember one of the first classes in architorture school: "who in here is left handed?" the professor said. most of the class raised their (left) hand. the professor went on to say that left handed people are generally more creative and that's why most famous architects and artists are left handed.

damn. disadvantaged at birth.

the subsequent 5 years of education has been spent making up for my right handedness.

reminded to me by my family, and now my (presumably) future profession.

alas, mine is a life charmed.

sub-point of the story: i know everything about the plight of left handedness. smearing ink, horrible time trying to use a notebook, scissors take forever, using a computer mouse just.....isn't right.

does anyone else want to become ambidextrous? dream. come. true.

i admit, i was pretty captivated by the inauguration pomp and circumstance today. there's just something so magical and endearing about things of this nature.

(insert political statement)

the end is built into the beginning

2009-01-19T01:48:00.000-06:00

my back is pressed onto a cold wall. i look to my right:
"i am sure i need scarcely tell you that i am very proud and happy" -charles dickens

my collage of overly-expensive quotable cards stares back at me, giving me a little push out of bed every morning.
those and the alarm set to wake me up at 6:40 every morning. (but brian, you don't have class until 8:30.....)

.....what ISN'T set to wake me up every morning is my heating blanket. my beautiful, soft, wonderful, tan, sunbeam heating blanket. we fell in love on january 10th, 2009.
our romance story begins much like any other:
so there i was, sleeping with another heating blanket.
"it will keep you warm down here" my sister-in-law said.
"it's perfect, you won't regret it" my brother chimes in.
"really," they both say in unison. "you'll love it."
i must say, at first, i was a little uneasy.
"i don't know guys....i've never tried one before. i mean, don't they light people on fire and stuff?"
"i mean, what kind of tom-foolery was this? the bed is warm WHEN I GET IN?!"
"preposterous!" shouts the old man in a white wig in back.
"outrage!" cries the housewife sitting 2 rows in front of me.

but there it was, weasling it's way into my life.
when i woke up the next morning, the blanket was still there, right on top of me, keeping me warm, making me feel safe. (too explicit?)

so what did i do? like a tyrant, i immediately left it to rot in the bismarck basement it calls home.
i drove directly to target in fargo, bought myself a lover, and THEN went back to my apartment. ever since that day we've slept together every night. every. single. night.

i see no end in sight. and i must confess that my sleeping situation never has been warmer.
it's one of the best $30 i've ever spent. hands down.

switching gears.

i don't know what's gotten into me.
lately i've been interes-wait.... obsessing over buying a house.
"whoa, g! what the--?!"
i know, i know. buying an old house and fixing it up. remodeling.
brilliance.
painting, buying linens, appliances, silverware, bedding, fluffy towels.
i dream of painting the rest of my goya collection. and of starting a large-format hadid painting.
i have them all selected.
the thrill of owning my own piece of property with my own stuff is invigorating, exciting!
i have a million ideas for custom lamps, light fixtures, color combinations, furniture, textiles.
first, i need a badass woodshop....pete style. (and i don't think my father will ever know how much i want this. because my brother always gets the "man stuff."....dammit)
i'm becoming one of those crazy people.
you know the ones, in raggedy clothes, standing on the side of the road with a sign:
"will work for barcelona chair."

and it will be perfect. with white trim and a ton of white subway tile. and muted greens.

....call me your typical 23year old male.
who is very single and very not married. (thanks, california)

i just finished up a movie.
the women. that's the title.
"why, brian?! why?!"
the cast.

if annette benning were in every movie, i wouldn't complain. maybe it's my passive mania for running with scissors, but her voice is captivating. she added so much depth to that character, as well as the mother in american beauty.
god, i love her.
in another display of "things that brian loves," she played a strong-willed, no nonsense woman.
miranda priestly,
sydney bristow,
beatrix kiddo,
samantha jones. (i don't actually watch sex and the city....just the movie....mistake.)
any muscle man can be an action star (insert stallone).
but it takes a special breed to play a leading lady.

this is turning into the least manly post.
ever.

chainsaws, buffet lines, monster trucks, 9 iron, budweiser, gillette, double-barrell shotgun, bacon cheeseburgers, table saw, hunting, timberlodge steakhouse, new balance, sawdust.

better.

i am a ridiculous person.
lonely.

i was asked to write to the minot paper a letter of support for the upcoming legislation including the lgbt community in anti-discrimination clauses statewide.
because you can legally be fired in north dakota for being gay.
which is horrible,
but i remain apprehensive. i need to talk to my parents about this move. minot loves gossip. what if a prominent business owner's son was writing to the paper in support of "those weird homosexuals?"
the last thing i want to do is turn my parents into a piece of gossip.
i once read in a book something that scared the pants off of me: i'm not the only one coming out. eventually, my parents will tell people, which means they (in effect) "come out" too.

and that scared the shit out of me.

i just need to talk to them about this. and these conversations always end up awkward and weird for all involved parties.....shit.

ah, i could write more. should write more. i need to close my computer, dream of buying a macbook(pro?), and fall unusually deep into sleep.

i am dreaming of returning to the gelato shop on via serpenti in rome.
or the one in hooker square in athens.
or just any european gelato.
does this make me pretentious?
buona notte.

constrained

2009-01-16T23:58:00.000-06:00

who knows.
i adore andrea. she is my light, my happiness, my up when i'm down. my reevaluation.
so there we were, chatting in the kitchen about europe, life, and the past. she kept telling story after story of ridiculous endeavors that were just hilarious in hindsight. every story was followed by another brilliant story that outlined her or her friend's clever acts.

when it hit me: i just don't have stories like this.

and, dangit, i felt so inconsequential. i love andrea, i love what she does, but i just felt so inadequate sitting there.

maybe it's a stupid "high-school-ey" thing to think, but i just need to get out there more, have more fun, get out of my little clean box more. meet people. be ridiculous.

so i went out to the bar tonight. i made a classy dinner with good friends, i had a few beers, and i went out. and i just didn't have fun. typical. i don't know what it is: i'm just not having fun at the bar scene anymore.

"make copies, win races, stay with me, go places."
why? why now? you were so appropriate at the time. not now. and i'm sorry.
i once saw an appropriate quote for my situation.
love is a strong word.

my lone brother joined a "i support equal rights in (state)" group on facebook. and i nearly wept. coming out to him was the hardest. THE hardest. i was so nervous, and unsure of his reaction. he was so wonderful. we got a pack of beer and talked about things. i think that it was harder for him to accept than he let me know, but it was so rewarding to see that on his damn facebook. i guess it makes me swell with gratitude when i see people supporting the cause. my best friend from high school also joined.

it just affects me. it affects me greatly. and i don't know how to tell these people how much they and their actions mean to me. i don't think that i could compose words to express my gratitude for their actions, reactions, and chatting.

in other news, i need an outlet. that isn't thesis. and i need to update more. and make this brilliant.

i'm calling you to say

2008-11-09T00:09:00.000-06:00

Come to me, I’ll be your wishing well
With cigarettes to save you
I’m a little lonely, can’t you tell?
Waiting on your rescue
For all my dreams, all my schemes
There was never anyone to stand next to
So baby, have I got you?
Running round in last place
Trying to keep a steady pace
What I got to give, I give up
Fools and thieves can keep on wishing good luck

I’m calling you to say
That I’m gonna be anywhere you want
Tonight and forever
I’m coming home to take
Take us both apart and put us back like one
And bleed together
I’m calling you to say
That I’m gonna stay wrapped round your heart
Through time and weather
I never live
I never die
Without you

Come around sweet keeper, kiss and tell
So everyone can hear you
Give me heaven with a bit of hell
To be the heavy heart true
For all your tears, all my fears
We were all alone, hiding in the same room

But baby, now I see you
Running round in last place
Trying to keep a steady pace
What I got to give, I give up
Fools and thieves can keep on wishing good luck

I’m calling you to say
That I’m gonna be anywhere you want
Tonight and forever
I’m coming home to take
Take us both apart and put us back like one
And bleed together
I’m calling you to say
That I’m gonna stay wrapped round your heart
Through time and weather
I never live
I never die
Without you
Without you

I’m calling you to say
That I’m gonna be anywhere you want
Tonight and forever
I’m coming home to take
Take us both apart and put us back like one
And bleed together
I’m calling you to say
That I’m gonna stay wrapped round your heart
Through time and weather
I’m calling you to say
That I’m gonna be anywhere you want
Tonight and forever

i suppose that after such heavy lyrics, i should put together a telltale piece of heartbreak known only to precious few.

but no. i haven't really had heartbreak. or love.
just interest and intrigue.

movie: chaos theory. it's mostly about how anything that can go wrong does. at the end of the movie, there is a semi-poignant part about how love seems like the most reckless force in the world, but it is one of the most steady forces in the universe. because love is always present, and we have the power of choice. we can choose to give love, and we can choose to accept love.

it just hit me strongly as i saw there on my friends couch.
i don't find ryan reynolds to be a philosopher.
but he delivered the lines with a wisdom that was spot on. it just got me thinking. thinking about love as a tangible thing that can be given and taken. it got me thinking that maybe love isn't some magical force that is indescribable and comes and goes as it pleases. maybe love is just something else.

and it made me realize that i've been lonely lately. i decided to be single for a long while, and it's proving to be harder than i thought. i was looking forward to being by myself, thinking deep thoughts, getting to know who i am, development of personal identity, and the chance to fully immerse myself in thesis.

but, it ends up that i miss talking to someone everyday. someone that cared about my day and thoughts. and i miss having someone to tell me about their day.
i miss looking forward to seeing them.
to being with them.

but i think i'm better off. i know i'm better off.
it's just harder than i thought. and for some reason, i'm so restless.
i can't make decisions anymore.
i can't think critically.
i am having trouble being motivated.

and i don't know how to crawl out of this seemingly deep hole.
a simple attitude adjustment?
medication? am i ready to be one of the millions medicated americans?
or is it something deeper?

do i need to love myself more? am i just not choosing to put the love i have towards myself?
i feel inferior in so many aspects of my life.

am i ready for the real world?
am i ready for change?
will i finish my thesis?
will i get a job?

or, will i fail? god, i hope not.

so please. bear with me as i figure out my shit.

to no one particular

2008-11-05T02:08:00.000-06:00

if you love me, won't you let me know?
if you love me, why'd you let me go?
-cp

futures

2008-10-24T01:22:00.000-05:00

"
let's get rich and buy our parents homes in the south of france.
let's get rich and give everybody nice sweaters and teach them how to dance.
let's get rich and build a house on a mountain, makin' everybody look like ants from way up there.
you and i, you and i.
"
so there i was, driving in my car, waiting to cry.
over the stereophonic, a familiar song. our song.

the acoustic version.

and then i realized: after some time, you forget the bad parts.
after clashing and disagreeing and eventually splitting, it all seems to trivial. because, at the end of the day, someone cared what happened. someone looked forward.

to me.

and what i thought, and who i am.

relationships, life, future.
what are they? figments that can never be defined? because it feels and seems like it.
everyone is different.
and i think that i am just stuck right now.
i need a flow,
a surge,
an overflow.

of joy.

cause i love the way you say 'good morning'
and you take me the way i am.

and last weekend, i escaped.
i needed 'me' time. for no alarming reason. i needed to take a trip, listen to my music, sing like hell, enjoy the big city, get outta my town,

escape.

and before i knew it, i was eating at a delicious top-rated restaurant, writing in my sketchbook, driving like a city-man, and, before i knew it,
listening to one of the finest orchestras in one of the finest cathedrals in the upper midwest.

and it was worth every penny.
wait, more than every penny.
because my time transcended "alone time." it was more than a weekend by myself.
it was a weekend with myself.

i'll buy you rogaine when you start losing all your hair
sew on patches to all you tear
cause i love you more then i could ever promise
and you take me the way i am.

i was driving today and thought "i don't enjoy who i am right now."

kick it up, brian...

patricia

2008-09-20T20:42:00.000-05:00

alright, alright. so- family.
we're a group that isn't so much into "sharing emotions." for the most part, we keep everything inside, deal with it ourselves, and that's that.

coming out of the closet.
hard for me, especially hard for my family.

one of my mom's sisters is a social worker, so my mother instantly called her. aunt patty.

my mom later called me, almost in tears, wondering if it was alright for patty to call me up.
"ok" i said with some trepidation. i had never really talked with patty in depth. we all visited her out in washington dc about 10 years prior. but beyond that, i've only had polite interactions with her over family reunions.

so, everyone on both sides of the family are extreme catholic republicans. conservative, anti-gay, etc, etc...the works.

so, patty calls me up, aska how i'm doing, and proceeds to change my life.
we talked for about 2 hours until my battery ran out. and then we talked again soon after.
patty, from a conservative, republican, huge family, broke out and became a beautiful soul.

she's a beautiful woman that has more knowledge of the human soul than anyone i know. she has 2 kids, is divorced, and wields a power known to few people. i feel like i can talk to her about anything.

we had a family reunion over the summer- it was a conglomeration of people- seemingly thousands with more missing than were there- i am finally seen as an adult. but the most stirring part of the reunion was my conversation with patty:
one of the warm nebraska evenings was spent in a small group. suddenly, patty said "brian, let's take a walk." we went up the hill together, as she lit a cigarette, and we chatted about life.

talking to patty is so calming. that's what's so beautiful about her. she's so calm. she calmed me down, and i someday wish to posess that trait of peace. extreme peace.

peace. peaceful.

i could sit here and write for hours about her.

so, about a month ago, my mom called and broke the news that patty just found out that she has cancer, and it's spread to much of her body. the doctor said she has 1-3 years.

and i'm not sure how i feel about it.
i guess it's been in the back of my head since my mom told me.

it's just like....losing a spiritual mentor. she is the only person from the extended family that i've officially talked about being gay to. we've shared so many interesting a deep conversations. something that is oddly lacking in the family.

just another day.

2008-09-19T19:38:00.002-05:00

well, i suppose this is the part where i introduce myself.

"hi, i'm me." nobody else.

thanks for being here. sincerely.

so, in[dependent] em[power]ment.
i guess one could call this my move from dependent power to independent empowerment.

picture time:
this is my final year of college,
i'm starting my career search,
i'm scared as hell.

now, let's just throw out there that i have a million other things on my mind, as does everyone else, but i suppose this is writing business is some sort of therapy for me. because, at the end of the day, i really do like writing. things. anything.

and hopefully, this will blossom into something i love.

so, sit with me. enjoy a glass of wine. and, as always: enjoy.

so, let's try this.