My rainy day

So much French to do and it's already 9:41 pm.
I had a good day, after my Healthcare class I went to Emerson college. I've been meaning to become an impostor at other colleges and now it has begun. An interesting day, it was pouring as I walked from one side of Boston to a completely new part (Boston Commons to South Station), and with raindrops trickling down my forehead and pants drenched to the thigh. People passed burdened by temperamental umbrellas and I (without hood, completely drenched) smiled and made eye contact. So many bewildered smiles answered. Then I kept asking people (2 or 3) if there was a way to get to Massachussets Ave. As far as I knew I was in the completely wrong place, but on the off chance I wanted to walk all the way back to Harvard Sq.
The students at Emerson are definitely artsy, I saw more students passing along the corner than I ever see at Tufts. I settled at a window booth at the Emerson Cafe, after ordering a Cafe Au Lait, which the barista chose for me after some discussion. I don't like cafe au lait's (I'd tried one once with Rachel), but she'd chosen it specifically for me so I felt obliged to order it. Students passed, often with just a single notebook tucked beneath their jacket and a pen in hand (in mouth in one girl's case). Their eyes reflected driven artists and they were an inspiring bunch to watch, even as I listened to a girl behind me (in the cafe) complain about the "crap" education they were receiving, she planned to transfer to a liberal arts school. Anyways, I conversed at one point with a prospective student and his mother, explained I was a school-hopper from Tufts (they seemed confused), gave them some decent thoughts on Boston and the colleges, and warned them against Berkelee (one day I'll explain).
Interesting day, exhausting. Now on to French.

1986

Flowers. Young women in white approach the soldiers. Timid smiles, the only indication that they are on opposite sides. The women do not mention the defected officers, they giggle over the morning and flatter the armed men.
The soldiers seem uneasy, their orders conflict with their reception. Their hands clutch guns and "the enemy" clutch flowers and sugared nuts, violence seems absurd. Time unhinges from its steady habit, as indecision mounts. The tanks, surrounded by peaceful citizens, cease to be vehicles of war, instead they are platforms and soldiers rest beside citizens.
A voice draws eyes in the bustle, a priest. He leads them in prayer, thankful for the safety of Enrile and Ramos, and hopeful for a new era in the nation's politics. Implied is a wish for Marcos' departure. Uneasy soldiers murmur along.
A figure cuts through the crowd, burdened dignity marks each step. The widow stops at each soldier and calmly meets his gaze. She does not seek apologies or remorse, she looks for the desire for change. In ever face she finds it.

Sort Of

The dawn crept, I dried my eyes and smiled for the pale blue world. Morning light lit the room. You feel this flame within fighting to burst and you hope it does. Fly out of me - explode, please. The pulsating,
Children run, feet (small strides) moved by joy, novelty is a great inspiration. (Treasure it, and create new moments when you can). Eventually you will be left enjoying memories, smiling at the timelessness of each familiar moment. Run, while your body can, dance while you have the energy.
You can fly without wings. Your heart pounds, each thought arrives without consent and a smile lifts your face, unbidden. A wild look in my eyes, ground touches feet but I am no longer grounded. I soar. And you, friend, still on the earth are left behind - for my moment.
We each are blessed with wings; mine: a pen (marker) and notebook, some a voice, an instrument, others running down a soccer field.
We misunderstand each other, you see me crouched over pen, shake your head. I watch you run, smile unknowingly. Though our mediums differ, flight we understand.
So, fall. Maybe you will break, or never reach the bottom, the wind around you, no breath left in your lungs, air hits across your body, a blurred silence. Fall and you might stop the fall with flight.

wordless

I K I S S E D T H E M O O N L A S T N I G H T. S H E R E S T E D, P A L E, O N M Y F L O O R U N T I L I E N T E R E D. I S O U G H T S L E E P I N M Y D A R K R O O M, L I T B Y H E R S T I L L P R E S E N C E. B E L O N G I N G T O T H E N I G H T O U T S I D E, S H E C R E P T T H R O U G H M Y W I N D O W, C U R I O U S A N D E A G E R T O T O U C H M Y S I L E N T V I O L I N. T H E W I S D O M S H E H A D G A I N E D F R O M W A T C H I N G N E V E R E X P L A I N E D T H E M A G I C S O U N D S S H E H E A R D, S H E W I S H E D T O S I N G, E V E N A S I M P L E C R I C K E T S O N G W O U L D D O. I F O U N D H E R O N M Y F L O O R.
I D A R E D H E R N O T T O B E A F R A I D. S H E A N D I, B O T H S I L E N T, B O T H U N N E R V E D B Y M U S I C B U T N E I T H E R A B L E T O C O N T R O L T H E M U S I C S O A D O R E D. B O T H P A LE, N E I T H E R T I R E D. I L O S T M Y S E L F I N M I D N I G H T M O O N L I G H T, I K I S S E D T H E M O O N.

My penny

So I'm at Rachel's house, back for the month of break. I've gone from 28 degree weather to 48, a nice change. Basically I wear fewer layers when I head out and don't shiver as I walk. It seems to be a month of difficult conversations, with parents, siblings, friends. A lot has been building up over the last few months and culminated into a need for words and communication.
I found a penny today, while visiting my old high school. I had wandered the premises and returned slightly disheveled. About to open my car I noticed the shape in the damp earth, but the copper had dulled so that it matched the ground. I picked it up, ever nervous that it would be face down, I'd had bad luck with penny's lately. Fortunately heads was up. Content, I searched for a date, but the penny was too worn to read, I could hardly see the face, only the building on the back was prominent. I pocketed the grimy penny and continued on my day, only remembering it when my hand drifted to my pocket and I rubbed the coin.
I think life will get better if I let it. I'm going to believe in the luck of a penny, because eventually the last barrier to happiness is yourself. I'll figure out what makes me happy, if I can, and I'll do that. If I can't, I'll smile as I do whatever I do. Even if it's just recovering a lost penny.

When you wear a red hat...

I'm in the midst of finals with two six pg. essays due tomorrow by 2 pm, and not a word yet written. So, I'll only write a brief blog today.
In the library today, as I roamed the shelves to leave, I stopped at Nietzche. It was a two-shelf section. And there in the middle, on the 2nd shelf, was Higgins' "Comic Relief". Heh. (I must buy many copies of that book and distribute them across the country in serious or depressing sections of libraries and bookstores).
I used to know I'd had a good day by the number of scabs and bruises I'd earned (climbing trees, taking risks, falling down). Now the war scars (life scars) take the form of ink stains on my hands and arms, and flour on my nose.

Got my list

The white silhouette of a familiar landscape. In the reflected sunlight snow melts, dripping from the thin branches. The leafless trees, whose furthest branches bow beneath the white weight, shiver in the wind. Children- college students- dart through the cold, breakfast and work motivate their speed. Alone in my room and choreless, I'm not yet cold but dread my emmersion.
--
Rousseau with breakfast
Freezing fingers ruffle French news
Christmas noise surrounds me

--
Life's unpredictable: some days it works. Some days are difficult to get through. With college a day lasts a week, I get to feel defeated and invincible on the same day. Directing feels wonderful, I'm working on a 10 minute original work for a short plays festival. My vision has been realized, and nobody's laughed, pointed and said "you're not a director." I have hope.
In general: hope for the holidays, for my future, for my present. Hope for my friends. Hope for my family. Hope for all the music that has found it's way into my life. The future seems especially cloudy these days (even each tomorrow is very unpredictable), it's becoming easier to appreciate that, rather than dread it.