Finals are over. Semesters are over. I am home for winter break now, and I feel awkward. … After working my ass off for the past few weeks to get good grades, I feel… agitated,… as I usually would going directly from having everything to do to having nothing to do. … I spent a good hour today going mindlessly through my options of activity, to discover that I really have nothing to do.

If only I had people in my vicinity to hang out with without having to worry about moving about again. This is probably what agitates me more is that right now, all of the people I want to hang out with are scattered all over the place. Its not how it was in high school. … It makes me want to punch a baby, because I hate driving everywhere! It also doesn’t help when it comes to music, because I hate being obligated to record/produce/book my friends when we haven’t even been hanging out on a daily basis,… but I apparently can’t stand being musically useless either. …
Christ Jesus!

Well,… who knows. My friends managed to book a big concert at the Red Sea earlier this month, and the show date is tomorrow. Strange thing is… he never booked a show before. I guess he learned what he needed to from my attempt to book a show? … With this in mind, this show is pretty… gargatuan. Not people-wise. … I’m talking seven hour long, w/ more than ten rappers on the bill. … Not sure how this is going to come out, but I’m going,… for better or worse. If, by some chance, they run into a problem, at least I’ll be there to either help fix it, or be there simply for the amusement. Then again, I’ve gone to plenty of ‘failed’ shows hosted by other people, so I guess its fair that all of us have learned from others mistakes. =)

Right now, I just hope that I’ll give myself more to do (that I won’t get tired doing.)

    
Darkness is cast across the invisible earth, surrounded by the ambiance
of the falling waters and the cracking of light across the plains.  The instance unveils the sea of stalks,
wavering to the merciless downcast like rows of worshipers wavering to a deity.
Where the light of day may shower and expose the fields of beige loosely
bobbing to a god less of anger, now lays a haze of indigo shaded monochrome
drenched in a sea of its own being. The ground soaks up from the downpour of
rain, washing away the notion of an innocent nature. The deep casting of shadow
that proceeds after each bolt hides away the depression, before another flash
of electricity ignites the sky in a tantalizing, yet fearful display of fury,
fading from sight as quickly as it came.

    
With each burst of energy, one may notice the figure dwelling far and
beyond the eye’s ability to distinguish form. One moment of light would only
cause the mind to blend the figure into the panorama of the storm.  Beyond an instance of time, however, the eye
sharpens the blur. Closer proximity shows the silhouette of a man standing out
amongst the chaotic night. The direction of his sight matches your own. The
overbearing figure stands, head crooked to the side, with no signs of movement
less the drenched entanglement of thick locks. Gusts of air toy restlessly with
the mass of strands, as they fiddle against the corners of the large coat
resting firmly upon his torso. The scent of rain hides away the taint of
leather and oilskin, as they do the stench of sweat from a long, listless
travel.

    
No fear from the one who stands out amongst the fury of the storm. No
fear of being struck by a violent reaction of static. No fear of facing nature’s
anger,… for is it nature controlling the rain? Is it nature controlling the
thunders resounding boom across the landscape? Is it nature lighting the skies
with electricity? … No. … For the man who fears not the rain, nor the thunder,
nor the lightning,…;  He controls the storm.

He is the storm. 

Its Advent time again, which means one thing for me:

…Advent Vespers!

So I, and the rest of the Augsburg College choir have practice for this big chorale event for three to four hours everyday all this week, which in foresight would seem to be a back breaking task, but it really is not. As a matter of fact, it is probably one of the coolest times to be in the choir. Picture two busloads of crazy, socializing college kids being brought to Central Lutheran Church every night and allowed plenty of commotion between lineups and singing arrangements. It sounds like a much more liberal setting than being restricted to a single chair in a choir room Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. It’s more like a field trip to me (except one that requires that you sing in front of the more cultured population of Minneapolis). Its the one event that (in doses) makes me feel like an upper-class jaggoff, and in some morally perverted way, it actually feels good to some extent!

This week thus far has been nothing but positive energy and awesomeness in general. A great contrast from my first two years, which seemed like nobody respected me in choir, but thankfully, the socially conservative population was pushed aside by the upcoming sophomore class just below mine, which happened to be filled with flaming liberal, anti-conformity people who did not suck.

So… awesome for me!

So,…

… at two different times this week, I was so overcome with frustration, anger, and confusion, that I managed to fill about 6 paragraphs worth of ramblings and worthless information in a post, ready to be sent off to the Xanga fairy to be put on my Xanga page. However, at both times, my frustration also stopped me from actually posting, because I knew that at no point that anyone would understand a word I was saying! O.o!

…

For the sake of justifying myself today,
     I decided to spend a few moments just to say that this has been a psychologically painful week, brought on my various people of pretentious views, and if there was anything I have learned,… it is in a sobering, scornful realization that my beliefs are of a very weak nature, and that in times of doubt, no one can ever expect clarification to simply jump out of the woodwork. Sometimes, we are all left beside ourselves, and there is truly nothing we can do.

…

I have nothing more to say.

…

As most of you (who have lingered around my Xanga for long enough) have gathered about me, every so often in order to get better acquainted with Xanga friends and other curious individuals, I develop a post dedicated to Inkblots! … I have done this twice before, and each time has gained a broader interest in my Xanga from various people. What better way to break the ice than to give someone the opportunity to become mentally stimulated by a picture which, when looked at, prys open their true creative selves and inspires them to translate what they see into words? What greater opportunity to see depth, soul, darkness, light, hope, love, dreams, fears… whatever one is willing to express, in one package? Of course, I am not a psychologist, but that is not the point! The point is making contact with beings across the vast ether of information passing via high-and-low-resonant frequencies! 8D

… Perhaps I’m glorifying this a bit too much,… so without further ado… I bring you:

- INKBLOTS – VOLUME IV -

…

(first inkblot disappeared)

…

Five inkblots!

Your mission is to look at these inkblots individually, one thru five, and tell me… on each of them…

What do you see? …
What does this make you feel?
What does this make you think?
Memories?
Symbolism?
Actions?

… What do you see?

My head is in broken fragments.

I have way too much on my mind.

Too many negative thoughts.

Its an overwhelming realization.

…

I require clarity to make any sense of these things that are bothering me. The thing is that there are plenty of bloody glass shards to stoop over, and the wounds are still bleeding out. … The little walk I had just now helped me a bit to get things straight in my head.
    It disturbs me that people cannot relate to the things I say. Not so much me. I have many a guise to work off of, but I feel the more vital characteristics of my personality and my frame of interests are being ignored heavily, either because it is an area that is shrowded by much emotion from others and people don’t seem to concern themselves over their deeper spiritual beliefs anyways. I have plenty of trouble with mine already. …

I’ve debated lately what it would be like to convert to Wicca, but it has occured to me how much of a one-stop, dead end choice that one really is to someone like me, who holds tightly to knowledge and logic, and doesn’t really fly well with Absurdism. … I apologize to all of the ‘authentic’ Wiccans, but when overviewing the more apparent demographic, I don’t think hanging around a bunch of teenage girls who OCDly rant about fairies, elves, LOTR, and ‘mystical-sounding’ stuff (of which is not mystical in the real world sense), holding to an attractive gimmick that stands obscure to actual spirituality OR real world logic, and whereas the older generation holds very LITTLE optimistic belief and merely centres around ritual and tradition is not my cup of tea. As a matter of fact, it sound like any other religion, and thusly, this is what is wrong with religion in general.

I am no athiest. I am spiritual. I believe it because I feel energy. It makes me laugh. It makes me depressed. It ebbs and flows. Its there, and I an consciencious of it. … but…

Much rage! Much confusion! Much distortion… standing against me reaching a ‘welcoming’ frequency to establish contact, understanding, or atonement.

This… is why I need an establishment of order, of some shape or form. A community. Something that humbles my soul. That can assist it through its development. … I have a community, but I’m not sure what to make of it at this time. Perhaps it is early to judge just yet. There is something to it, but it is very young. … The ideology resonates with me however,. mostly because I felt that I was apart of its birth, and that I am a part of its development. I am not the founder,… I am not its father,… but I feel that I am one of its guardians.

The trouble I feel is that… I am constantly mindful and debateful of my wealth as an individual. It is my mindset that I am always judging myself through a perspective of,… am I worth something to the world around me? Am I worth this xanga? Am I worth spiritualiy? Am I worth this community?… This continual mindset generally never ends well, and my subconscious begins to build opposition to a framework of metaphysics where the universe is all one, all one wisdom, all one intellect. I couldn’t help but think constantly ‘I must seem really inferior.’

In a way, I could imagine that if I had a child who was sitting by himself, pouting, and telling me ‘You must think I am stupid/inferior’, I would lovingly embrace him and tell him that he is a cherished gem, and I would not give anything in the universe for him. Even so,… in a world of self-indulgeant, confusion, anger, heartlessness, elitist, self-servicing people, who can truly see what greater beings think of them? When one applies such vast foreverness much as one applies human society; as a force that dwarfs and tyrants the individual; then where is the cherished gem to be recognized by the self?

…

Oh well. I’ll just have to gather up the pieces and try to push things forward a bit.

Something about the most recent turn of events have been trying to communicate with me.
Whether it be a real life dilemma, or a message derived from the media, or a glimpse of thought,… I have come to notice something that I have neglected.

For lengths of time I had evolved from my unconscious through the course of injury, and the greater admiration of life. Still, I’ve noticed that a different stage of development has been well overlooked. …

Strange how a maturing experience can come before one that requires a level of ‘immaturity’ persay.

…

For the longest time, I have focused so much upon maturing myself before others, and having little opportunity to intentionally make mistakes as apart of youth. I’m realizing that a straight path does not serve this necessity. … I need to be able to be youthful. Be unafraid to try new things. Be unafraid to be foolish (to a level.)

My views have always been so liberal, but I have conserved myself for much too long.

…

The thing is, I’m not sure how to go about doing this. Strange how one relies on a catalyst event to do the evolving for you.

This is a message to all who cares to read:

If you find yourself in a position where something terrible has befallen upon you, fret not.
Change is a necessity in life, and each change that comes provides opportunity!

An epic opportunity for those who truly wish to realize it. … Why take life so seriously?
Take the time to get in touch with yourself. Create something new.

Make it so!