Follow the Lighted Promenade

Thought I'd write before my afternoon lethargy set in. I'm feeling okay, I guess. Things hit a low yesterday; they've been spiralling down for awhile, and yesterday, it all hit. I'm hesitant to throw out the word "depression," because that is not what it is, but it's a real bad spell, negative perceptions, loss of self. I feel good this morning, though. I stepped onto the porch at about 7 and just looked over the gray sky, leaden, overlapping grayness stretching to the northwestern horizon, and I breathed in deeply, and offered up a short prayer, something to the effect of :"I can't ask for happiness, but just help me to make it through." And I felt good. I put on "The Ghost of Tom Joad" by Bruce Springsteen, one of my favourite road trip tapes, and just fell into it. "If God gives you nothin' but lemons, make some lemonade The early bird catches the fuckin' worm Rome wasn't built in a day." I love

And though your confidence may be shattered, it doesn't matter. NY You've just gotta press on. I wrote a long, chronological journal of my weekend that got erased and I've no mind to do it again. I had fun, but it's been a nervous, weird time lately, dealing with bouts of uncharacteristic anxiety and doubts that hit me when I'm at my coldest. I have had a fun semester, but I can't help but believe that when I have the time to sleep and heal that I'll approach things from a different slant, and dwell on the good rather than the sad. Sarah and I went to see Wilco on Friday. The band was far more folkie than normal, downright trabadourish at times, but still rocked loud enough to make my ears sing. I felt bad for Sarah because everyone around us was so tall that she was unable to enjoy the sightlines that I did. But we had fun. And they played what has sorta become our song, "California Stars;" it was nice just letting the music wash over

What a stunningly beautiful day. I rode my bike to school, wearing short sleeves, marveling at how dusky it was at four o'clock, but alternately amazed at how comfortable it was. (This sentence doesn't sound grammatically correct to me, but Cindy tells me it is, and she is one of the Writing Center's best and brightest.) I've had a good day; hopefully the weird string of bad Wednesdays has gone by the boards. My energy is up, as are my spirits. I had a cappucino. Yuppie! Song of the moment: "When the Tigers Broke Free" by Roger Waters. This song is so amazing! It sends such chills coursing through me, and inspires me to no end. There is a male voice choir, the London Philharmonic arranged and conducted by Michael Kamen, and Rog, his eerie, emotionally charged tenor leading the assault on the senses. The song starts with the usual Floydian wind, but emanating from deep within the left track you hear one thumping note, a bit like a heartbeat, rising

It's a Monday and I don't feel bad. It's sunny, I slept off a very good weekend, and I've accomplished everything that I've needed to do for the day - and the clock is yet to strike 11. It's been ages since I've written, not because I've had nothing to say, but rather because I've had too much to say, and lacked the mental capacity and the digital control to set about putting it down. I saw two great movies over the weekend. I finally got Sarah to watch "O Brother, Where Art Thou," which we both enjoyed, even though we were swimming through a weird, late-night lethargy. And "Hobgoblins," an achingly beautiful look at the lives of studio night watchmen and their friends who fight to keep the world safe from an unspeakable evil from outer space. Heehee. And we played games with Leesa and Coleen until the wee hours on Saturday. Titanic the board game. If you had any doubts... I wrote a song last night...a very simple li