Studying for econometrics ends tonight, and is to be picked up tomorrow. Hopefully, all will go well.
Now that my roomate has moved to more desireable housing (re: Student Village) the room seems very strange, and very quiet. I don't think I've ever lived without a roomate of some sort. My first few years in college have all been with some sort of roomate, and at home I always shared a room with my brother. So, it just feels really weird and different to be alone.
Thats all for now, more tomorrow when I am released from the clutches of econometrics.
Monday, February 28, 2005
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Continued.....
Patrick then felt the being depart him for the moment, and he was again all alone in the vast ocean of colors. At that point, the brightness of the sky began to subsist, and the colors began to fade into a deep blue. He was now in an ocean of a type he could recognize, with a sky that was brilliant and blue. He felt distressed about his situation once again until he noticed a coastline that has seemingly risen out of nowhere, and floating his way was a small empty raft.
Patrick got on the raft and paddled his way to the shore. As he got closer, he perceived that the shoreline went on forever in both directions. Just beyond the beach was a small wooden fence, and beyond that he saw high grasses, shifting with the wind. On the shore, he could see figures, dressed all in white, on the beach, and abandoned rafts like the one he was moving on now. He looked down at his own clothes and discovered that he was also now dressed in white, with his skin clear and free of the small blemishes that so obsessed him in life.
He was amazed at this but he felt like crying. He had no clue where he was going or what was going to happen. His missed the people he knew and trusted already, and believed that there was nobody on that beach that he knew or could trust. He tried to be brave, but he couldn’t manage it. He was tired already of being jerked around by supernatural forces in which he had no say. He wanted to be back in his town, or his school, somewhere he knew, where he could make choices he was familiar with, and where he could confide in his friends. The place he was entering looked like heaven, but he knew it couldn’t be, because he felt like he was dying all over again.
As Patrick got near the coast he jumped out of the raft and into the water. He let the raft go, reasoning that there would be countless others should he need it later. He walked up onto the beach, and looked around at the solitary figures walking up and down the beach, seemingly as dazed and confused as he was. Soaking wet now, Patrick looked for any sign of what to do next. The people there seemed so utterly confused, and were going nowhere, they walked up and down the shore seemingly forever. It was so peaceful and serene, yet also eerie. He wondered if they, like him, had just died and if they had found out anything different than he had.
Patrick picked out one he saw approaching him in the distance. He was about his age, with dark brown hair and eyes, and an athletic frame. His eyes squinted as if he was trying to perceive something in the distance that he couldn’t quite make out. He was lost like all of them, but he seemed particularly eager to find answers. Answers that he seemed to think lay on the endless path on the endless shoreline next to the endless ocean. He seemed unsure of where he was going, but was eager to get there. And, to him, getting to that unknown place seemed more important than asking questions about where he was actually going. Patrick had no clue of what kind of reception he would get, but knew he had to try something. Patrick walked beside him and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Hey, excuse me I was just…..”
“Are you Jesus?” said the youth in a hopeful, but firm voice.
“No,” Patrick replied, obviously puzzled by the question. “I’m Patrick.”
“Saint Patrick?”
“Not really.”
“Oh,” he said “then I’m going to keep going. I think what I’m looking for is around this corner.”
“What? Why? What’s your name?”
“I’m Kevin, I’m pretty sure this is heaven, or at least close to heaven. I just need to get to the main part, I think, so I really need to keep going.”
“No, I don’t think you understand,” pleaded Patrick trying to keep up with him “I don’t think this is heaven, I don’t understand what’s going on really, and I was wondering if we could try to figure it out.”
“No, I’m really pretty sure this is heaven, I just need to follow these people. It’s probably right around the bend…”
With that Kevin began to sprint off into the distance, going on the beaten path along the beach as fast and as furiously as he could. Patrick tried to keep up, but fell down into the sand, and saw that he was impossibly ahead.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure leaned against the fence. It was a skinny man of medium height in his early twenties with dark shaggy hair, and glasses. He wore a tie-dyed shirt, with a peace medallion, and jeans. The man began laughing as he looked at Patrick flat on his face in the warm sand. It was a laugh that was friendly, but it made him feel a little stupid for being so clumsy.
“Ah the devout Christian!” he said in a British accent “Never believe in something so much that you become like that guy, unable to think for yourself and unwilling to stop and ask questions. If you’re going to have a good afterlife, you need to keep an open mind.”
Patrick eyed him suspiciously. He was unsure of what to make of him, but he was the only person he had seen on the shore who looked relatively happy.
“Come over here,” the man said “let’s talk for a bit.”
Patrick then felt the being depart him for the moment, and he was again all alone in the vast ocean of colors. At that point, the brightness of the sky began to subsist, and the colors began to fade into a deep blue. He was now in an ocean of a type he could recognize, with a sky that was brilliant and blue. He felt distressed about his situation once again until he noticed a coastline that has seemingly risen out of nowhere, and floating his way was a small empty raft.
Patrick got on the raft and paddled his way to the shore. As he got closer, he perceived that the shoreline went on forever in both directions. Just beyond the beach was a small wooden fence, and beyond that he saw high grasses, shifting with the wind. On the shore, he could see figures, dressed all in white, on the beach, and abandoned rafts like the one he was moving on now. He looked down at his own clothes and discovered that he was also now dressed in white, with his skin clear and free of the small blemishes that so obsessed him in life.
He was amazed at this but he felt like crying. He had no clue where he was going or what was going to happen. His missed the people he knew and trusted already, and believed that there was nobody on that beach that he knew or could trust. He tried to be brave, but he couldn’t manage it. He was tired already of being jerked around by supernatural forces in which he had no say. He wanted to be back in his town, or his school, somewhere he knew, where he could make choices he was familiar with, and where he could confide in his friends. The place he was entering looked like heaven, but he knew it couldn’t be, because he felt like he was dying all over again.
As Patrick got near the coast he jumped out of the raft and into the water. He let the raft go, reasoning that there would be countless others should he need it later. He walked up onto the beach, and looked around at the solitary figures walking up and down the beach, seemingly as dazed and confused as he was. Soaking wet now, Patrick looked for any sign of what to do next. The people there seemed so utterly confused, and were going nowhere, they walked up and down the shore seemingly forever. It was so peaceful and serene, yet also eerie. He wondered if they, like him, had just died and if they had found out anything different than he had.
Patrick picked out one he saw approaching him in the distance. He was about his age, with dark brown hair and eyes, and an athletic frame. His eyes squinted as if he was trying to perceive something in the distance that he couldn’t quite make out. He was lost like all of them, but he seemed particularly eager to find answers. Answers that he seemed to think lay on the endless path on the endless shoreline next to the endless ocean. He seemed unsure of where he was going, but was eager to get there. And, to him, getting to that unknown place seemed more important than asking questions about where he was actually going. Patrick had no clue of what kind of reception he would get, but knew he had to try something. Patrick walked beside him and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Hey, excuse me I was just…..”
“Are you Jesus?” said the youth in a hopeful, but firm voice.
“No,” Patrick replied, obviously puzzled by the question. “I’m Patrick.”
“Saint Patrick?”
“Not really.”
“Oh,” he said “then I’m going to keep going. I think what I’m looking for is around this corner.”
“What? Why? What’s your name?”
“I’m Kevin, I’m pretty sure this is heaven, or at least close to heaven. I just need to get to the main part, I think, so I really need to keep going.”
“No, I don’t think you understand,” pleaded Patrick trying to keep up with him “I don’t think this is heaven, I don’t understand what’s going on really, and I was wondering if we could try to figure it out.”
“No, I’m really pretty sure this is heaven, I just need to follow these people. It’s probably right around the bend…”
With that Kevin began to sprint off into the distance, going on the beaten path along the beach as fast and as furiously as he could. Patrick tried to keep up, but fell down into the sand, and saw that he was impossibly ahead.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure leaned against the fence. It was a skinny man of medium height in his early twenties with dark shaggy hair, and glasses. He wore a tie-dyed shirt, with a peace medallion, and jeans. The man began laughing as he looked at Patrick flat on his face in the warm sand. It was a laugh that was friendly, but it made him feel a little stupid for being so clumsy.
“Ah the devout Christian!” he said in a British accent “Never believe in something so much that you become like that guy, unable to think for yourself and unwilling to stop and ask questions. If you’re going to have a good afterlife, you need to keep an open mind.”
Patrick eyed him suspiciously. He was unsure of what to make of him, but he was the only person he had seen on the shore who looked relatively happy.
“Come over here,” the man said “let’s talk for a bit.”
Friday, February 25, 2005
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Another foray into the land of Blog, except this time a rare glimpse into my thoughts about what's going on.
First, I'll give you all a little explanation about the fiction that's been appearing in my entries over the last few months. I've always felt compelled to write about something and to attempt to tell people a good story. What this basically has been is an rough attempt to do so. I realize that what I've put out there isn't the best edited material, I skimped on that in the interest of actually just putting stuff out there. I hope it's entertaining or at least interesting to most of you.
As for the story itself, a great and consistent source of emotional pain for most of my adolescent/young adult life was the fact that I have had a bad habit of falling for people who would never/could never return my feelings. So part of the story is an expression of that pain. Hopefully enough of you, gay and straight, find something in there that you recognize and can identify as something you feel as well. But please note, don't take my descriptions of "Patrick" as just me describing me. Patrick is not me, and I am not Patrick...though similarities do exist.
Another thing I've always sort of grappled with was the nature of the Universe and of God, and alot of the concepts you see are just things I've tried to cobble together to make sense of it all. It's probably pretty weird to put this in a story with concept #1, but we'll see how it turns out.
As for more mundane things, my weekend went pretty well. I had fun on Friday and Saturday nights, and worked on Sunday night and tonight, with probably alot more work ahead of me tomorrow. On Friday/Sat. night I met a guy(smile), we'll see how that storyline works out as well.
First, I'll give you all a little explanation about the fiction that's been appearing in my entries over the last few months. I've always felt compelled to write about something and to attempt to tell people a good story. What this basically has been is an rough attempt to do so. I realize that what I've put out there isn't the best edited material, I skimped on that in the interest of actually just putting stuff out there. I hope it's entertaining or at least interesting to most of you.
As for the story itself, a great and consistent source of emotional pain for most of my adolescent/young adult life was the fact that I have had a bad habit of falling for people who would never/could never return my feelings. So part of the story is an expression of that pain. Hopefully enough of you, gay and straight, find something in there that you recognize and can identify as something you feel as well. But please note, don't take my descriptions of "Patrick" as just me describing me. Patrick is not me, and I am not Patrick...though similarities do exist.
Another thing I've always sort of grappled with was the nature of the Universe and of God, and alot of the concepts you see are just things I've tried to cobble together to make sense of it all. It's probably pretty weird to put this in a story with concept #1, but we'll see how it turns out.
As for more mundane things, my weekend went pretty well. I had fun on Friday and Saturday nights, and worked on Sunday night and tonight, with probably alot more work ahead of me tomorrow. On Friday/Sat. night I met a guy(smile), we'll see how that storyline works out as well.
Monday, February 21, 2005
So, this is a continuation of Feb 20th. Read that and other parts of this story for this to make sense. (Trippiest Entry Ever(Nov), Part 2 (Dec), Part 3 (Feb))
The Story Continues
“Well, yeah.” said the voice, “I say that only reluctantly, though. People put so many burdens on me. I created this universe, and the things that reside in it. However, it’s such a large and complex place, it is hard for me to manage it, or even predict what is going to happen sometimes. I’ve tried to do my best, to make the universe as wonderful as possible, but even I have to operate within certain constraints.”
“Set by whom?” asked Patrick.
“Well, the physical Universe has to operate according to some logical formulation. I cannot just constantly magic things into being the way I would like them to be, that would be endless chaos. At some point I have to develop rules for which the Universe can operate, and each set of rules has its own different problems. As far as I can tell, this is the best of all possible worlds or at least the best of all possible worlds so far. I’ve tried one billion of these before, and this one has turned out the best.”
Patrick was too shocked by his situation to be amazed by the comments of the being, nor even by the very fact that he was talking to his creator. So many emotions rushed through his head. He thought about his family, they were probably still alive as that night the rest of them were out of the house for various reasons. He wondered what kind of emotions they were going through, and felt sorrow for the pain his death would cause. He thought, of course, about Jason, he missed him already, and wanted to see him again. He thought about the various other things in his life, and how he was being taken away from them before he was ready to go. He felt a sorrow worse than when anyone he loved had died. When they died it was just one person, but he had lost his entire life.
He had always thought that when he died he would be taken to heaven or hell, eternal peace or eternal torment. In either case, his spiritual destiny would be decided, written by some higher power and handed down to him. Now it seemed not much had changed emotionally from when he lived. He was not ready for such an ambiguous experience.
“Is this Heaven?” asked Patrick.
“Heaven doesn’t exist in the way you know it. Heaven only exists in you. You’re a being that exists in a spiritual plane, and this experience you are having is your soul’s way of interpreting your new existence. Do not panic though, in what you will perceive as only a few minutes, things will clear up and you’ll be able to interact with other souls and communicate with those you have loved, be they on Earth or in this new kind of existence. All souls exist in this plane, it’s just that some are currently preoccupied with their physical existence.”
“What does this interaction consist of?”
“Oh, everything you did on Earth and more. The upside to being wholly in this plane is that you have so much freedom to pursue joy, pleasure, knowledge and love. Your entire eternal existence is a quest to bring yourself to heightened levels of all these things. Your spiritual journey did not end when you died, it only began.”
“Can I affect what happens on Earth?”
“You can try. But it’s tough, even for me, and I’m fairly experienced in these sort of things. Though, a word of advice, try to only do good things. Evil things like spiteful revenge will only bring you unhappiness. There are a few tormented souls who seem committed to this kind of thing, and it’s so self destructive I can only feel pity for them. I try to counsel them, but again, it’s so hard to change somebody’s mind.”
“When can I see Jason again?”
Though he could not see God he could perceive the being’s happiness.
“Soon enough, soon enough.”
The Story Continues
“Well, yeah.” said the voice, “I say that only reluctantly, though. People put so many burdens on me. I created this universe, and the things that reside in it. However, it’s such a large and complex place, it is hard for me to manage it, or even predict what is going to happen sometimes. I’ve tried to do my best, to make the universe as wonderful as possible, but even I have to operate within certain constraints.”
“Set by whom?” asked Patrick.
“Well, the physical Universe has to operate according to some logical formulation. I cannot just constantly magic things into being the way I would like them to be, that would be endless chaos. At some point I have to develop rules for which the Universe can operate, and each set of rules has its own different problems. As far as I can tell, this is the best of all possible worlds or at least the best of all possible worlds so far. I’ve tried one billion of these before, and this one has turned out the best.”
Patrick was too shocked by his situation to be amazed by the comments of the being, nor even by the very fact that he was talking to his creator. So many emotions rushed through his head. He thought about his family, they were probably still alive as that night the rest of them were out of the house for various reasons. He wondered what kind of emotions they were going through, and felt sorrow for the pain his death would cause. He thought, of course, about Jason, he missed him already, and wanted to see him again. He thought about the various other things in his life, and how he was being taken away from them before he was ready to go. He felt a sorrow worse than when anyone he loved had died. When they died it was just one person, but he had lost his entire life.
He had always thought that when he died he would be taken to heaven or hell, eternal peace or eternal torment. In either case, his spiritual destiny would be decided, written by some higher power and handed down to him. Now it seemed not much had changed emotionally from when he lived. He was not ready for such an ambiguous experience.
“Is this Heaven?” asked Patrick.
“Heaven doesn’t exist in the way you know it. Heaven only exists in you. You’re a being that exists in a spiritual plane, and this experience you are having is your soul’s way of interpreting your new existence. Do not panic though, in what you will perceive as only a few minutes, things will clear up and you’ll be able to interact with other souls and communicate with those you have loved, be they on Earth or in this new kind of existence. All souls exist in this plane, it’s just that some are currently preoccupied with their physical existence.”
“What does this interaction consist of?”
“Oh, everything you did on Earth and more. The upside to being wholly in this plane is that you have so much freedom to pursue joy, pleasure, knowledge and love. Your entire eternal existence is a quest to bring yourself to heightened levels of all these things. Your spiritual journey did not end when you died, it only began.”
“Can I affect what happens on Earth?”
“You can try. But it’s tough, even for me, and I’m fairly experienced in these sort of things. Though, a word of advice, try to only do good things. Evil things like spiteful revenge will only bring you unhappiness. There are a few tormented souls who seem committed to this kind of thing, and it’s so self destructive I can only feel pity for them. I try to counsel them, but again, it’s so hard to change somebody’s mind.”
“When can I see Jason again?”
Though he could not see God he could perceive the being’s happiness.
“Soon enough, soon enough.”
Patrick couldn’t believe the amazing kaleidoscope of colors that enveloped him. They swirled, and rushed around him, mixing and separating and mixing again into pigments he had never seen before. They seemed so close to his eyes, and yet he could perceive that they went out into infinity. He was a diver in an ocean of translucent, magical paint, which challenged the senses and overloaded the brain. He was caught up in them, and was pushed to some unimaginable destination by the colors’ unrelenting flow. It was the most amazing experience he had ever had, and he believed he was dreaming.
Patrick soon realized, though, that the colors and the experience were too real to be part of a dream. It was reality, not some twisted firing of synapses in the reaches of his brain. He wondered if he and his house had been caught up in some unimaginably goofy disaster that rivaled Boston’s Great Molasses Flood of the 1800s. But, even that far fetched explanation proved unsatisfactory as the volume, and nature of the material that carried him off seemed too un-earthly to be a result of some human mishap. His mind struggled for answers; it was unable to process the unimaginable thing happening to him at this moment.
All of a sudden the colors stopped pushing and swirling. His body began to float and rise. The colors began to settle into solid, recognizable colors, and then into primary colors. He rose faster and faster with seemingly interminable bands of red, yellow, and blue flashing in front of his face. Finally, he reached the top of the ocean, and above him was a sky so bright that it challenged all previous notions of bright, even the meaning of the word “bright” as he had previously held it.
He rotated his body around, half-expecting to see he was behind the frame of a Salvador Dali painting, but all he saw was the ocean of colors extending forever into the horizon. He cried out.
“Where am I!?”
No answer.
“Where am I!?”
“You are dead,” a voice bellowed back.
“Why? What happened!?”
“Carbon Monoxide”
“Damn. But this isn’t possible, I have so much left to do, so much stuff that’s unfinished.” he protested.
“ I know, I had big plans for you, I never saw carbon monoxide coming though. It’s the trickiest of deaths.”
“Who are you? Are you God?” said Patrick
“Well, yeah.”
Patrick soon realized, though, that the colors and the experience were too real to be part of a dream. It was reality, not some twisted firing of synapses in the reaches of his brain. He wondered if he and his house had been caught up in some unimaginably goofy disaster that rivaled Boston’s Great Molasses Flood of the 1800s. But, even that far fetched explanation proved unsatisfactory as the volume, and nature of the material that carried him off seemed too un-earthly to be a result of some human mishap. His mind struggled for answers; it was unable to process the unimaginable thing happening to him at this moment.
All of a sudden the colors stopped pushing and swirling. His body began to float and rise. The colors began to settle into solid, recognizable colors, and then into primary colors. He rose faster and faster with seemingly interminable bands of red, yellow, and blue flashing in front of his face. Finally, he reached the top of the ocean, and above him was a sky so bright that it challenged all previous notions of bright, even the meaning of the word “bright” as he had previously held it.
He rotated his body around, half-expecting to see he was behind the frame of a Salvador Dali painting, but all he saw was the ocean of colors extending forever into the horizon. He cried out.
“Where am I!?”
No answer.
“Where am I!?”
“You are dead,” a voice bellowed back.
“Why? What happened!?”
“Carbon Monoxide”
“Damn. But this isn’t possible, I have so much left to do, so much stuff that’s unfinished.” he protested.
“ I know, I had big plans for you, I never saw carbon monoxide coming though. It’s the trickiest of deaths.”
“Who are you? Are you God?” said Patrick
“Well, yeah.”
Saturday, February 19, 2005
So, no post last night b/c I was drunk and tired....so I'll write two entries for today. This one'll be short b/c I have work I need to do.
Weekends w/o debate, especially long weekends without debate, seem very long, like I woke up today thinking it was Sunday, and it was only Saturday. It was like I had an extra present under the tree. Ah debate she is a cruel mistress.
I know this is weak, but you can't expect genius every day, I have other things to do. Genius soon....
Weekends w/o debate, especially long weekends without debate, seem very long, like I woke up today thinking it was Sunday, and it was only Saturday. It was like I had an extra present under the tree. Ah debate she is a cruel mistress.
I know this is weak, but you can't expect genius every day, I have other things to do. Genius soon....
Friday, February 18, 2005
I'm listening to the Clash right now, and I think I have to be the only person that finds their voices incredibly sexy. They surely don't have the best voices, but the way they belt out their songs is wonderfully punky, which I find really sexy. Back in high school, I had a friend named Ed, who has been mentioned on this blog before, who was in a punk band that was fairly sucessful. I went to alot of his shows, and, while I didn't like alot of the music, I found the attitude really sexy. They were extremely cynical and uncompromising, nothing was sacred to them. They were very angry, and didn't seem to show a soft side, but you sensed vulnerability in them, and that there was alot behind the anger, a lot of hurt, a lot of being left out. This made them immensely appealing and interesting characters, which of course made the decent looking ones, like my friend Ed, incredibly sexy to me.
Another reason why I've always somewhat admired those "punk" guys was that they have this constant simmering anger at a society that we should be angry about. It is a society that preaches inclusion, but refuses to recognize those out on the margins of society. My favorite example of this is the Columbine Massacres. In the wake of the shootings, the two shooters were crucified by the press and media, they were turned into monsters that were not human like the rest of us were. This really angered me. While what they did was a terrible, aweful, and tragic thing, these kids were not monsters, but living breathing human beings. It was never considered that, while Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold were responsible for the shooting, society was responsible for the culture that led to the shooting. If Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold are to be demonized then we all ought to be demonized for creating a society where kids are driven to suicide because they are overwieght, unpopular, different, homosexual, or all of the above. The question we all should have been asking in the wake of those shootings was not "did gun laws cause this?" or "did Marilyn Manson cause this?" but rather "what would inspire two 17 year olds in the United States of America to have so much hate built up in side of them that they would shoot at their classmates?" The question isn't an easy one because it indicates that there isn't somethng wrong with the laws or the lawmakers, but, rather, that there is something wrong with ourselves.
Another reason why I've always somewhat admired those "punk" guys was that they have this constant simmering anger at a society that we should be angry about. It is a society that preaches inclusion, but refuses to recognize those out on the margins of society. My favorite example of this is the Columbine Massacres. In the wake of the shootings, the two shooters were crucified by the press and media, they were turned into monsters that were not human like the rest of us were. This really angered me. While what they did was a terrible, aweful, and tragic thing, these kids were not monsters, but living breathing human beings. It was never considered that, while Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold were responsible for the shooting, society was responsible for the culture that led to the shooting. If Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold are to be demonized then we all ought to be demonized for creating a society where kids are driven to suicide because they are overwieght, unpopular, different, homosexual, or all of the above. The question we all should have been asking in the wake of those shootings was not "did gun laws cause this?" or "did Marilyn Manson cause this?" but rather "what would inspire two 17 year olds in the United States of America to have so much hate built up in side of them that they would shoot at their classmates?" The question isn't an easy one because it indicates that there isn't somethng wrong with the laws or the lawmakers, but, rather, that there is something wrong with ourselves.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
So, faithful World of Dennis readers, I've decided to take a giant leap in my blogging to keep people interested. From now on, there will be a World of Dennis entry every day. Perhaps one of the most frustrating things about AIM profile procrastination is a blog that doesn't update. Well, I'm not going to be one of those people. You'll be getting an entry from me with my thoughts and musings each and every day for you to ponder, and get you out of doing your work....
Part 3(see November/December 2004)
Jason stood outside, smoking, not noticing the rain. His bright blue eyes were obscured by redness from the tears that now streamed down his face. What else can you do when one of your best friends dies? For Jason, the mind could only shut down and succumb to a black numbness. He could only turn into a machine, his actions dictated by the necessity to go places and do things surrounding the death of his friend. The rain continued to pound on him with unrelenting cruelty, as if the whole world was against him.
Jason had so many friends, but Patrick was special in a lot of ways. Patrick was a shy, lonely, delicate creature with so many gifts to give, so many talents that went unnoticed. Jason believed he was the only one who realized this, the only one who didn't make Patrick feel invisible. Nobody else knew, for example, that Patrick had the sharpest sense of humor in the school, nor did they know about the amazing artwork Patrick did in his spare time that he was too embarrassed to show anyone. They didn't know about the stories either, the short vignettes carefully and lovingly inscribed into his composition notebook, that could make a person laugh, and then, within a few minutes, cry.
Jason also suspected that Patrick loved him. When Patrick looked at him, it wasn't the look of a friend trying to get his attention, but of something more. It was the way his girlfriend looked at him sometimes. On long bus trips to some school retreat, Jason remembered, Patrick would always make an effort to sit next to him, and then end up falling asleep on his shoulder. The first few times, Jason woke him up and Patrick looked embarrassed and mumbled an apology. After a while, Jason began to realize it wasn't an accident, so he let his head hang there. Jason never knew how to deal with Patrick's affections. He felt badly that they wouldn't be returned, and tried to make it up to him with little concessions like letting him sleep on his shoulder. Jason wouldn't put up with this from many other people, but Patrick was special and needed a good friend.
Until now, Jason never realized how much he needed Patrick as well.
Part 3(see November/December 2004)
Jason stood outside, smoking, not noticing the rain. His bright blue eyes were obscured by redness from the tears that now streamed down his face. What else can you do when one of your best friends dies? For Jason, the mind could only shut down and succumb to a black numbness. He could only turn into a machine, his actions dictated by the necessity to go places and do things surrounding the death of his friend. The rain continued to pound on him with unrelenting cruelty, as if the whole world was against him.
Jason had so many friends, but Patrick was special in a lot of ways. Patrick was a shy, lonely, delicate creature with so many gifts to give, so many talents that went unnoticed. Jason believed he was the only one who realized this, the only one who didn't make Patrick feel invisible. Nobody else knew, for example, that Patrick had the sharpest sense of humor in the school, nor did they know about the amazing artwork Patrick did in his spare time that he was too embarrassed to show anyone. They didn't know about the stories either, the short vignettes carefully and lovingly inscribed into his composition notebook, that could make a person laugh, and then, within a few minutes, cry.
Jason also suspected that Patrick loved him. When Patrick looked at him, it wasn't the look of a friend trying to get his attention, but of something more. It was the way his girlfriend looked at him sometimes. On long bus trips to some school retreat, Jason remembered, Patrick would always make an effort to sit next to him, and then end up falling asleep on his shoulder. The first few times, Jason woke him up and Patrick looked embarrassed and mumbled an apology. After a while, Jason began to realize it wasn't an accident, so he let his head hang there. Jason never knew how to deal with Patrick's affections. He felt badly that they wouldn't be returned, and tried to make it up to him with little concessions like letting him sleep on his shoulder. Jason wouldn't put up with this from many other people, but Patrick was special and needed a good friend.
Until now, Jason never realized how much he needed Patrick as well.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Hey everyone, I just realized that it's been over a year of World of Dennis. Hopefully there will be many more. To help that happen, what do you, the readership of World of Dennis want to hear more about? What would you be interested in seeing more of? Also, if you have any sort of thought on any entry, please comment. It lets me know people are reading it, and it's also fun to see what people have said, however insignificant you may think it is. This goes especially for those of you who might read this because you tangentially got the link off the APDAforum or the facebook, or some other random place, and are too afraid to comment because you are embarrassed to be reading random person X's blog. Believe me, I read lots of random people's blogs who I only tangentially know, and I am certainly not going to look down on you for randomly reading my blog. It's kind of flattering actually.
Now, as many of my readers are debaters (or at least most of the people that comment) I'm going to again cater to APDA readers and provide you with a list of people I wish I knew better on APDA/in the debate world. All you people on this list, I find you somewhat intersting and wish I were better acquainted with you, but the situation hasn't arisen yet. Unlike the Hotlist these will not be ranked. (Note: your exclusion from this list doesn't mean I don't ever want to talk to you, it might mean that I think I am on my way to getting to know you, or that I 've forgetten you as my brainpower has decreased as the AM hrs wear on. In any case, if I would be on a similar list of yours, randomly come up and talk to me sometime either electronically or in real life, whenever I get back to a tournament....I promise I won't bite, and I'll probably tell people what a nice person you are.) (Note 2: If you are on the hotlist, you automatically are on this list, whether I mention you or not, cute people are always fun to talk to.)
Rory Gillis, Yale: Rory is a very nice guy, but he seems a little bit shy and a little mysterious. These are qualities that really intrigue me, and really make me want to get to know him better in the future.
Andy Bragin, Brandeis: I don't know why I don't know Andy as well as I seem to know other Brandeis people. It really makes no sense, he seems just as nice and as interesting as the other ones, but for some reason we haven't had the same interaction.
The Bates Team: There are a few of them that seem like really great guys, and I've really tried to make the effort to befriend them, with moderate sucess. They seem a very insulated bunch though, close to each other but not as much to the rest of APDA.
Dan Greco, P-ton: I got a small taste of Dan at Worlds in Malaysia, and he seems like someone who I should get to know better. He seems very earnest and genuine, which is a really great quality to have.
The Harvard Team: What an interesting bunch they are! They are all very quirky, insane, and lovable in their own ways, which is really the only way to be.
Matt Settle, NYU: So, I met him in Montreal, and had a really great time with him in the brief time we were there. I hope to see more of him.
Kevin Grinberg: I wish there were more of an opportunity to get to know Kevin, I think we would've been pretty good friends had my birth been a year or two earlier.
Amanda Griffen: She seems like a real sweetheart. She even helped us clean up after our banquet, which was really cool.
Again, if you were left off of the list don't feel bad, I've gotten tired and have to stop somewhere. If I've hung out with you outside of debate, you don't really qualify for this list.
Now, as many of my readers are debaters (or at least most of the people that comment) I'm going to again cater to APDA readers and provide you with a list of people I wish I knew better on APDA/in the debate world. All you people on this list, I find you somewhat intersting and wish I were better acquainted with you, but the situation hasn't arisen yet. Unlike the Hotlist these will not be ranked. (Note: your exclusion from this list doesn't mean I don't ever want to talk to you, it might mean that I think I am on my way to getting to know you, or that I 've forgetten you as my brainpower has decreased as the AM hrs wear on. In any case, if I would be on a similar list of yours, randomly come up and talk to me sometime either electronically or in real life, whenever I get back to a tournament....I promise I won't bite, and I'll probably tell people what a nice person you are.) (Note 2: If you are on the hotlist, you automatically are on this list, whether I mention you or not, cute people are always fun to talk to.)
Rory Gillis, Yale: Rory is a very nice guy, but he seems a little bit shy and a little mysterious. These are qualities that really intrigue me, and really make me want to get to know him better in the future.
Andy Bragin, Brandeis: I don't know why I don't know Andy as well as I seem to know other Brandeis people. It really makes no sense, he seems just as nice and as interesting as the other ones, but for some reason we haven't had the same interaction.
The Bates Team: There are a few of them that seem like really great guys, and I've really tried to make the effort to befriend them, with moderate sucess. They seem a very insulated bunch though, close to each other but not as much to the rest of APDA.
Dan Greco, P-ton: I got a small taste of Dan at Worlds in Malaysia, and he seems like someone who I should get to know better. He seems very earnest and genuine, which is a really great quality to have.
The Harvard Team: What an interesting bunch they are! They are all very quirky, insane, and lovable in their own ways, which is really the only way to be.
Matt Settle, NYU: So, I met him in Montreal, and had a really great time with him in the brief time we were there. I hope to see more of him.
Kevin Grinberg: I wish there were more of an opportunity to get to know Kevin, I think we would've been pretty good friends had my birth been a year or two earlier.
Amanda Griffen: She seems like a real sweetheart. She even helped us clean up after our banquet, which was really cool.
Again, if you were left off of the list don't feel bad, I've gotten tired and have to stop somewhere. If I've hung out with you outside of debate, you don't really qualify for this list.
Monday, February 14, 2005
Wow, what an exhausting weekend! I lived in Photonics for about two days running our debate tournament. The good news is that everyone seemed to love it. Some people even told me that it was the best tournament they had ever attended, which really makes me happy for myself and for everyone involved. It's always nice to see the thing you worked so long and so hard on impress people. The downside of it going so well is, of course, that it's going to take alot to top it.
Otherwise, classes are difficult, very difficult....I think I'll leave it at that since it's a boring and depressing topic, and since most people reading this have difficult classes or jobs. So, might as well stop bitching about them.
I went to my first Spectrum (BU's gay organization) for the first time on Wednesday. It was my first time ever at any sort of gay organization, and I think now was just about the right time for it. As a freshman I would have been way too embarrassed/intimidated to be anything but weird and non-responsive at such meetings, but now I'm far more comfortable with the whole gay thing. Though, I must admit, I still feel a tinge of uncomfortableness with letting the general public know I'm gay. Like, I have a shirt given to me by a guy from Tufts who I hooked up with, which says "Bias Off....Fabulous On" clearly indicating my own fabulousness. Now, I've worn this shirt many times in public, but when it's going to be visible, I still think twice about it. Similarly, when I saw the Spectrum people walking around trying to find a room in the GSU basement I hesistated to follow them around, knowing that if I did I would identify myself with that group, and, again, announce my own fabulousness to people hanging around there. I really can't explain this phenomena, there's no good reason.
Now, Spectrum was good in that it accomplished and seemed as if it will continue to accomplish one of my goals for the first semester, which is to meet more gay people (and to meet more people in general). At this particular meeting I ended up talking to a guy from my Colonial Society course, which we concurred was a dreadful class with an insane professor (the class isn't hard at all, the professor is just actually crazy). The guy seemed nice and is not bad looking, but I don't see anything happening. There's always room for more friends, though. In fact, there is a desperate need for gay friends who I haven't hooked up with. Right now, that number stands at zero, and I think it's a result of the mindset I generally have when relating with gay guys. I usually attempt to hook up (by hook up I mean make-out level hooking up NOT sex level hooking up) with desirable gay men that I meet and get to know, and I generally do end up hooking up with them. I do this with almost no regard to whether a romantic relationship would be a workable one. This is bad because sometimes I ruin potential friendships, I think, by hooking up and making the dynamic so weird so early on, where any attempt at friendship would be construed as attempting to continue, or restart some romantic relationship which did not work out.
On the other hand, hooking up is so enjoyable that it's very hard not to do. If a person is desirable and desires you in that way, it's very hard to stave off the impending hook up. From my point of view, as well, it's just so much fun to sample different types of people, how they kiss, how they cuddle/ show their affection, and how they look at you in the moments before and after each kiss. Each person is unique and beautiful in those ways.
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