Round 1b

After having bumbled my way through the intake assessment at the PSU Center for Student Health & Counseling (or SHAC as it is commonly referred to) I have to say that I felt a little trepidatious about going back for a second appointment with a new counselor.
The prospect of re-introducing my self-diagnosis as a bitter misanthrope was less than appealing.

However, upon stepping into the SHAC waiting room I began to feel the knots in my shoulders loosen a bit. Little did I know that the soon-to-begin session would provide an even grander denouement.

I was greeted a few minutes after my scheduled time by David, a shorter graying man with a light beard that resembled lambswool. He had crystal blue eyes that revealed a youthfulness and honesty which I immediately found welcoming.

He seemed like one of those guys who kind of always knew that he was cool even though no one necessarily nominated him for prom king. Like he didn't even think of needing anyone. He even swore a couple of times during our session which only added to my collective liking for him. And yet throughout the entire interaction he maintained such a patronly and available nature.

He was like salted caramel: sweet and soft with a savory, serious edge.

After our greeting, David and I strolled down the open hallway between the various offices and potted plants until we reached his door halfway down on the right. He had a geometric rug and two comfortable but subdued chairs in a well lit office with vaulted ceilings and a sizable window. I was glad to have the natural light.

The session itself commenced with David asking me to describe to him why I decided to request counseling at this time.
I was off like a shot.
I spoke of school's innocuousness and the belabored efforts of making enough money for rent and bills in light of this purportedly problematic economy and then transitioned into my underwhelming impression of the United States as a whole.
After continuing on in like fashion for the duration of the hour-long meeting (punctuated consistently by David's polite interjections and reflections) I realized that I felt incredible.
Everything in me was opening up and breathing and I felt fully porous, like air could move through my entire body cleansing the built up residue of anger and indignant dissatisfaction with the status quo.
Granted, it's not all gone just yet. However I feel a strong sense of optimistic and anticipatory potential about this guy, this process.

In hopes of gaining still more of said optimism, I plan on maintaining this counseling relationship and writing about it along the way.

At least something in my organic life is interesting enough to garner my attentions and written reflection.

Photo Flashback

In a surprising and cheerful recent instance of serendipity, I happened to come back into contact with the woman who played witness to the valiant reclamation of my absconded bicycle last Summer.

She is mentioned in the entry where I detail the event because she happened to take my picture that day and, since it was something of a random request, it stuck in my mind gaining placement in the formal storyline.

Well it just so happens that this charming and lovely woman still had the photos she'd taken of me that day and was kind enough to send them to me in order that I might document them for all cyber-eternity.

These skimpy shorts are what allowed me the speed necessary for abducting the thief.

This look of prideful
charm and boyish confidence
is actually farcical
considering that just behind
me is a neglected bike about
to be made off with by
some drunken crook!

And once again,
hubris incarnate.

I promise I did learn
not to be so ridiculously
full of myself as a result
of the trauma sustained
from this adventure.

The Sad Case of a Much-Needed Separation

Judy Peal never really believed in God. She played church so well that she married a preacher and lasted a whole 11 years with him before she ran out of energy and will. You can imagine what a depression might come with the realization that you had just divorced the self induced-poison of faith in false conventions such as prophecy. She still managed to get herself through a dark phase of loneliness and confusion with the determination of someone whose prophetic faith in nature could trump the status quo.
It was like being a non-weight bearing beam in a frivolously gaudy steeple and cross; you ran a thorn of pointless venom through the otherwise elegant and necessary structure. And one might only imagine the drawings of such wasted plans to be a thing of sheer squalor and deeply set ink from a lengthy and belabored concocting of such shameless indulgence. Judy tended to think of herself as shameless and indulgent, too.
The idea that she was leaving a man and a marriage which were both rooted to an unwavering piety soaked through her like spilt coffee through a thin cloth napkin.
There would be metric weight for a guilt of that inescapable magnitude. In fact, the ripple effect that such a sensation would wrack upon the surface any mistaken perception would issue tremors of the the most thoroughly unfamiliar and puzzling new kind. It would be a masochistic thirst. Like stealing a firm press on a dark bruise just to feel alive. So alive that it might be called thorough. What a beautiful detail indeed.

And in this was found the moment outside of a moment...




...but not really.

A Magnificent Death of Perfection

There’s a childish romance to be had of the world. If not us then who? If not now then when? The beauty of such immediacy is in its drive. And from that we derive our daily enthusiasm.
Why have we pushed so far away from the simplicity of innocence and naivety? The answer would seem simple- “we wanted to” - but there are some things that just beg for explaining.
Yes, we wanted to. But it’s just not as cut and dried as all that. Why did we want to? If you’re growing weary of all of the open ended questions I’ll do my best to put them at a halt from here on out.
Back on topic: We wanted to because the idea of imperfection was enticing. It was juicy and annoying like your fingers just after eating an orange. But we always thought we could just lick our hands cleaned and they would dry soft and dexterous just like before. We didn’t know, we’re at present having a hard time understanding, that none of this bland and massive stress is actually as overbearing as we’re permitting it to be with our greed, selfishness, and misguidance.
We wanted to because we thought that breaking status quo would in some way paint our lives just a little brighter instead of being placated by the peace of normalcy.

Now is not normal.

Now is when we do have to start making an effort to break trends and stray from our current path. We do have to rebel against the conventional. Because conventional as we know it is in an irreversible state of entropy and painful decay.
Stray from material things. Stray from a need for money. Stray from the idea that you’re better than someone based on your belongings. These are the ropes that lash us to our downward spiral fate. We must act out and cut ourselves away with the blade of a keen new vision.

We must return to a state of community and cooperation. This is quite a euphoric notion and yet I assure you, for some it is quite possible. Likely, even. But right now is our final stage of struggle before truly embracing peace. Be intentional about your contribution to the convalescence of our age. Love and cherish. Be free from the weak yet blinding constructions of a scared and enmeshed worldview. Open yourself to the fresh air of critical thought and thorough examination. We are a future of change and progress.

If only we choose to be.

How did I know?

Whenever I feel like things are getting so terribly rotten that I won't be able to stomach eating my way out of them, some random happenstance affects my whole perspective and I'm allowed to let go of the ever-present tension in my stomach and just relax into the normalcy of life.

And then something poisons that and I'm flung into despair all over again.

And then I'm happy.

And then I'm sad.

Are you seeing the same innocuous pattern I am?

I guess what's becoming so overwhelming is the idea that this rise-and-fall roller coaster won't ever stop. And once you've been on the same ride for, oh, I don't know, let's say 47 go-arounds, it sort of loses its thrill.

I'm at the point where the sharp drops and dizzying spins no longer hold any anticipatory excitement for me.
I just dread the next nice day for whatever horror will doubtless follow.

This is getting silly.

Just one more day

I'm heading to bed after a full day and evening.

Following yet another lengthy session of discussing just how much garbage we all ought to be filtering to try and maintain a generally balanced idea of the world at large, I came into a somewhat comprehensive sense of exhaustion.

Thus, I stopped by work to bid Matt a farewell (yes, I feel like a big person for having done so) and then I kissed and hugged Sean and made my way home.

En route I stopped at Safeway where I procured a number of necessities such as several cans of tuna, two gallons of discount ice cream, and a plethora of avocados.

No, I'm not planning on eating them all at the same time.

I then hiked the 10 or so blocks back to my apartment, laden with the trappings of school and nourishment (a heavy book bag and an equally heavy paper grocery sack).

Upon arrival at my home, I unloaded the unnecessaries and set to work in the kitchen making myself some delicious chicken noodle soup with dill dumplings.
As much as this might sound like the title to an episode of Little Rascals, it was actually quite sumptuous and I drank my weight in water throughout the course of the day so I rushed to slurp down the last few doughy blobs before jetting to my semi-archaic (two light bulbs burnt out) bathroom to relieve myself.

Once THAT was done I continued watching Stardust which I had started when I first sat down to my oh so filling dinner. And then Tommy showed up with his own entertainment contribution: Zach and Miri Make a Porno.

I was expecting something quirky and a bit mediocre and I'll note that I was neither impressed nor disappointed.

Now, following the completion of the dishes and a thorough bout of oral hygiene, I am slowly fading into pre-sleep which I will further strengthen by reading Watchmen.

God, I miss reading.

Right around the corner

Having just finished perusing NPR's article on the drastic lows in Wall Street, I have to say I'm growing more and more worried about the state of my current inability to garden effectively.

I feel like I ought to have been fostering the growth of a smattering of nutrient-rich vegetables and perhaps even raising some chickens what with the soon-to-burst balloon of debt this whole country seems all too blithe to keep inflating.

I'm just waiting for the day that I wake up to find that there have been countless runs on the banks and all of the numbers in my online bank accounts are simply that: numbers.
Meaningless, valueless, pointless numbers.

Then again, maybe that's just my problem: I'm just waiting.
Maybe that's all of our problem.

Seriously though, when I ask myself what it is I'm actually doing to counteract or at least prepare for these declining times I come up with precisely squat.

This is simply not acceptable.

Sitting in a class where we talk about media

I'm finally jumping into a class that compels me (just a little).

Me and a small cadre of my die-hard Speech Comm friends are currently sitting in our favorite basement dungeon classroom getting ready to embark on a weekend crash course in journalistic bias and contemporary media literacy.

This may sound like a mouthful but the truth is that it's an amalgamation of many topics we've all already addressed in individual form via various and sundry other courses.
Needless to say I'm very much anticipating what these next three days are going to have in store for us.

For once I'm excited about school.

And just when things couldn't get any bleaker

In the last week I've spent a few nights battling insomnia, a few mornings battling anxiety, and an afternoon or two wishing I could just ditch this conventional little life and run off to Barbados.

Seeing as how that's not likely to present itself as a realistic option at any point in the near future, I've decided to stop being unhappy for awhile.
Lord knows I deserve the break.

Not to mention I'm less than 5 months away claiming my hard earned degree, I have a beautiful and enriching group of close friends, I'm in an incredible relationship with one of the most handsome and adoring people I've ever encountered, and I still have all of my fingers and teeth...unless you count the curiously named wisdom molars.

All in all I don't have it too bad.
Sure, I have some debts (who doesn't and no, I wasn't asking you Amish people), I have a less than ideal job, and my iPhone freezes up sometimes.
Boo-hoo, I'm a such a martyr.

The fact is that I allow myself to become entirely too ensnared by the complications of wanting something I don't have, not wanting some I do, and wishing that I could gratify my desires in the blink of an eye.
I'm pretty sure prolonged attitudes like these will give you cancer.

I don't want cancer.

I like my hair.

A lot of people like my hair.

Like senior citizens.

And I would feel horrible disappointing them.
They lived through the depression.

I'm simply stating that I need to stop being such a wet blanket and live a little more fully.
That said, it's time for me to sleep.
Pleasant dream, me.

Sitting in a class where we talk about beer

I'm getting really tired of how much class time we spend just for the sake of filling up a period.
If there is anything I really cannot stand it's unnecessary use of time.

Why waste my effort, attention, and valuable time? (Yes, I would consider my time to be a very valuable thing.)

I'm not saying that what we do with the nebulous time is always of no value whatsoever, and yet I feel as if I ought to be allowed to choose whether or not I am willing to partake in the non-salient discussions.

I'm almost finished for God's sake.
I'm tired of merely meeting criteria.
My college experience is supposed to be saturated with learning new and innovative ways of thinking by being presented with scintillating concepts.

This is inanity.
(Ever notice how that word is one "s" away from "insanity"?)

Perhaps I'm just jaded.
Scratch the perhaps.
I am.

In a time of trial and apology

I've received two rather noteworthy apologies today.
And after spending the last several months constantly being the one doing the apologizing, it's a very refreshing and enlivening position to hold.

That said, I just finished a response to Maekol's ex-boyfriend, Sam's note of apology for some rudeness on his part during last week and I felt it warranted placement in my blog along side my other documentings of time's passage.


Sam,

I accept and appreciate your apology.
I'll admit I was made slightly uncomfortable by your insistence on coming over the other night mainly because I don't ever like being put into a situation where I have little to no choice in the matter.
I just find it to be without consideration on the part of the one making the demand and it is quite rude.

That said, I wanted to extend my own apology for saying that you were drunk. I must have misunderstood you during our phone conversation that night. There was a point in the discourse where I believed you to have mentioned that you were "trashed."
You very well might have said something like "trapped" or been commenting on everyone around you. Whatever the case, my misunderstanding led to me conveying an untruth to Maekol in my discussion of the situation.
For that, I am sorry.

I'm happy to know that you're looking to be civil and can see it in your message. However, considering the present situation in regard to your talking with Michaela about Maekol's and Tommy's frustrations with her, I must admit that I have begun to consider you with a moderate amount of wariness.

I'm glad to hear that you apologized to Tommy for speaking out of turn but at the same time, Michaela is still refraining from speaking directly with the boys as a result of your unnecessary input and that frustrates and disappoints me on behalf of all 3 of my friends who are now hurting because of the complexities of the situation.
This is not meant as a roundabout way of placing some kind of blame on you by any means. This is me making sure to let you know why it is I have grown more standoffish toward you of late.

I haven't harbored ill will for you in any fashion previously and this time period is more sensitive because of how much I am seeing what's conspired as a result of gossip hurting Tommy and Maekol.
As you are well aware, Maekol is my best friend.
I love him very, very much and hate to see him hurting.
Thus, when he is hurt, I am very protective and defensive against those involved in inflicting the upset.

Unfortunately, in this situation you happened to be a part of the source of that upset warranting the raising of my guards.

I, too would like to be civil in this but simultaneously I think it's understood that while we are able to get along, we've got conflicting positions with regard to what's best for this group of friends.

I understand that you're in something of a strenuous time of life what with relocation, joblessness, and a general sense of lacking direction. There are numerous external factors contributing to your difficulties right now and those things are acknowledged as being out of your control.
And yet, in lieu of working out a definite plan of long term action for yourself, I would advise that you focus on the small victories.

-Find some kind, any kind of employment (I know it's incredibly difficult to do so in the current state of things but it's not impossible and the ability to support yourself will be rewarding and maturing.)

-Find housing outside of your present situation (From what I've been told by both you and those around you, you're far from happy there and the people who reside with you sound as if they're heavily detracting from your ability to find success.)

-Assist in the diplomatic repair of Michaela's relationship with two of her closest and dearest friends (Whether this means re-couching the things you imparted about Tommy's and Maekol's opinions or simply stepping out of their triad long enough for them to clarify and heal everything solely within themselves.)

These things will each provide you with an individual sense of completion and accomplishment. Thus, you'll find yourself working toward realistic goals and ensure your own growth of inward peace, self-satisfaction, personal security, and maturity of behavior.

Considering the fact that we are all on the same path toward these common goals, understand that I'm not singling you out by advising these things. I'm doing the same for myself, as it Maekol, as is Tommy, as is Michaela.

Be intentional, be considerate, make a point of thinking carefully about the ways in which your actions consequentially affect those around you. And avoid inflating anything to a higher level of sensationalism than necessary. Just take everything you encounter with a grain of salt and focus on the essentials as opposed to making light of the frivolousness of gossip and melodrama.

I think you'll find yourself in a much happier place.

I have no qualms about being your friend but you must understand that I've made a decisive point of surrounding myself only with people who edify and encourage me and those I love.
If ever a person begins to detract from the well being of those I care about and/or myself, I hold them at an arm's length until they either make amends for wrongdoing or prove their integrity consistently improving their behavior.

I know I've left you with quite a lot to consider.
Just think on it.

Please feel free to ask me any questions you might have.

Sincerely,
Noah

The end of a very long day

Here I sit in somber dejection.

I told myself that today would be surprisingly productive and that I would feel surprised by the fact that I'd accomplished so much.

Well, I got my wish...and I missed the concert I've been looking forward to for weeks.
Granted, I did get a fair amount of random shit dealt with and finished.
None of it was terribly well done, but at least it's done.

So bleak, the revelation

I came to a solid conclusion this evening:
I've set unrealistic goals for myself and they are bringing me down.

In perusing the scraps of information I have concerning my future, I'm constantly gripped with a paralyzing sense of suspension.
It's like I'm dangling in some transparent vacuum space above and between all that I want to be and do, and yet without ground or walls off of which to propel myself I am left to unceremoniously look at everything I hope for without any conceivable momentum toward its obtainment.

One would think that making this statement about my own future would damn me to a self-induced sense of victimhood, and yet that's just the answer.
I would be the cause of it.
In this same vein of thought and flow of logic it would only be sensible to think that I could just as easily be the cause of my own success, of my own attaining of high merit, my own victory.

I long for championship.

And now, as my own propellant I can release myself from the arbitrary bonds of flawed plans rife with expectation and obligation.
I can be free to redefine my goals and ultimately myself.

This is a time for shaping and shaving.
Chipping away the larger portions of my accrued worry and self-doubt, I'll then begin to sand my new shape into smooth satisfaction by means of the sanding of flexibility and will to accept all that is unchangeable and a hope to discover just what can be altered.

Limits only exist where failure is perceived.

That's my new maxim.
Get it tattooed.
Just credit me.

In bed under the covers at 11:06am

Morning.
A time for worry,
when the dog's weight on blanketed feet feels so confining.

No amount of pulling will
raise the neatly tucked sheets
over my head.

Yes, my eyes are open.
No, I am not awake.
But I am not sleeping.

I am worrying.

Worrying over my worrying.
A vicious cycle.
And I am pinned beneath the comforter
like a teddy bear who is missing his button eyes.