Turn The Cocks Brown

This is a short post for those who demand it.

I have made a promise to myself today. I have to stop watching clocks. I would stand in front of my machine at the factory and will time to move forward as quickly as possible. I would watch the clock, hoping to see the minutes tick by faster and I realized recently that I do that too much. I sit in class and start looking at the clock after about 5 minutes, pleading with the hands to move faster instead of taking my time to learn something. I would sit in front of my computer thinking about things that need to get done and how I wasn't doing it and I would watch the day melt away. It's all such a waste and I need to live in a world without clocks. I mean, I'm not going to live without a schedule or anything but when I need to be somewhere for an hour, two hours, whatever, I need to just be in that moment and let the world go through me instead of past me. So that's my new semester resolution.

Here's My Secret: I'm Still Unsure Of Everything

So, as I think everyone who would read this knows, I am not coming back to BG in the fall. I kept the knowledge of this fact to myself for a very long while. I mean, I wasn't exactly sure what was going to happen, but I knew I wasn't going to be in school. There was a chance I was going to force my parents to cut me off and let me get a full time job in BG trying to afford my rent until I could figure out what I was going to do. Fortunately, I'm not doing that. I wanted to really badly at one point, but that would have been stupid. After that, I thought I was going to go home and work while going to community college. That was a frightening thought, to say the least.

Finally, my parents and I decided that I would be best off living in the dorms at Eastern Michigan and going to school there. I'm still majoring in telecommunications but instead of political science, I'm minoring in journalism. All goes well, I'll be out in two years. All goes horribly, I'll be back at home for a long time. I comfort myself with the fact that BG is not too far away. The town is still like a home to me, possibly more so than my own. I feel uncomfortable and out of place oftentimes here in Lake County, a feeling I rarely ever have in BG. Still, privacy and relative solitude is going to do me good, I hope, and I see myself succeeding wonderfully at Eastern. I don't put a lot of stock in God or religion, but when visiting Eastern Michigan two weeks ago, I really felt like if there is some kind of deity, I am doing what his will by going there. It was a strange feeling and possibly just a selfish, self-satisfying one, but it made me feel better.

I don't really know what else to say, I just wanted to keep everyone up on my thoughts now that I feel free to share them. I just hope Eastern isn't as hostile towards me as it was my freshman year. There were times while I was there that I felt half the school was out to make my day awful but I bet that was just in my imagination.

I also need to drink less, which I am definitely not doing here in Lake County.

I would like to send out a few simple, public messages to friends who read this blog.

Steve- Video Bank is important and it's your chance to leave a mark at BG before you leave. I know that's what you want, I can see it in you. You've got the chops so just do it. I'll come help whenever I can.

Emily- No offense to Steve, but I couldn't imagine a better possible president for UFO. Regardless of how many people show up, make it mean something because it should. Hopefully, I'll have some product to send your way for the film festival.

Dustin- I am turning into you: an old weirdo, wandering the dormitory halls. Seriously, though, I hope we can get the apartment shit figured out because it'd be the greatest favor in the world if you could take that lease off my hands.

That's about it, some coherent thoughts, some slightly incoherent, random thoughts. Take what you will from them.

Some Change Could Make A Change

I wrote this little piece the other day. I hope you enjoy it.

Outside on our little porch that leads to the parking lot of our apartment complex we keep an old Folger's coffee can out to dispose of our cigarette butts. We never empty it so it's filled to the brim with a large variety of pre-smoked tobacco products and various bits of trash that find their way there. The brands are like the rings of a tree that mark different times during the school year. Mostly, it's all Camel cigarettes but there's also a lot of Pall Mall's from when we were low on cash and needed to buy a cheaper brand and hand rolled from when I was just plain out of money. There are Marlboros because Grant stole cigarettes from his parents whenever he went home. Large and small cigar butts pepper the landscape from when we had more extravagant guests and nights. Celebrations for a job well done or a quiet night of drinking, watching TV and lighting up a stogie. The label on the can has burned off and the plastic cap attached to the bottom has melted and fused to the wood of the porch due to the numerous times it has caught fire. It sits out there as an altar. First to our own vice and addiction. All three of us have been known to smoke a pack a day on a good day and they're all laying in there, waiting for the day that we finally empty it out. It's second purpose is a reminder of the times we've had and how important they were to us. Drinks and dancing filled the receptacle as much as our dependency on tobacco and that's the paradox. That can sits as a reminder of two very different feelings. One of helplessness and weakness and the other of joy and celebration. It's confusing to me and I'll be glad to throw it away.