etilletas

it was cool for the first time in a month. sitting out on the deck with my dad under that old awning we put together a couple summers ago. him with his laptop and me with mine. it was that time of night when the entire place glows of blue, there being no sun to directly illuminate the environs of my backyard, relying instead on the swath of dying blue sky that fades into white. him with his numbers and figures and me with the drudge report, blogs from beirut, news from the lines - i am concerned that i know far too little about the world and am making an effort to understand it all a little more fully, getting books about the problematic religions, reading the words of those working with children in dirty parks, listening to the parts of NPR when people talk while driving my truck to do yardwork.

i meant to write out there but the environs was beginning to strike back. my father was headed inside to watch the skins in hd, it was growing dark which didn't really bother me at all - the air was as pleasant as ever, growing even more so - but, this being the south, the mosquitos, having gained the advantage of darkness, were feasting on my extremities. my dad isn't one of those people bothered by bugs like that so he wasn't even aware. i headed in, though, to sit here in my claimed chair to listen to dmb live trax and watch the bengals embarass todd collins to the sounds of some pretty much heavenly noise while the welts rise on both ankles, the backs of my arms, wherever they feel.

got so much to do, moving away in a week, nobody is around to talk to, and i have so much to do. i need to find the time to head out west a little ways to do a little more bush work, again to pick up a television i've acquired on loan from family, drop by the library a couple times probably, wash out a fucking grease disaster left over from our famous beer-butt chicken bonanza of last night. take a day to vacuum, bumper treat, leather treat, wash, wax, and rain-x kristina. oh, yes right, and pack.

i can't decide whether this week should feel long or short, what with classes starting next wednesday. the last week of the summer is always the shortest, or used to be, but having been away for three months and seeing one kid once the entire time, and what with sunday nights and a book i can't terribly get into, the hours pass more mundanely than ever. even the cats are crawling out of their skin.

i been sleeping so strange at night. it's rare for me to be dreading going to bed at night. i sleep so badly, dream so strangely, so far removed from comfort. even with drugs, an hour before i can rest - rest! pillows too hard, blankets too thick, too hot, thoughts too disquieting. i don't do enough. i do, but i don't do enough. not like at school, where i sleep wells. where nobody will be shaving in the other corner of the room at 3am (not this year). no, nothing like that. and i walk everywhere... and i cannot wait for the sleep.

i'm counting all my relevant friends these days. i shouldn't. i always come up with figures nobody wants. how many people sincerely care about me? nine, maybe, outside of the family. how many do i speak to... every week? six, and recently, three. mostly every day? one. i sat outside tonight reading about lebanon and thinking of how lucky i was to be male, (upper) middle-class, and white. but, i guess, as a recommended book and reasonable judgment of being reminded of myself, i'm a wallflower. and not in a good way. in the way that... i'm not a major player. i'm the outskirts, the burbs, a founding but associate member. i'm a satellite.

all my plans run together. i've been thinking recently that if my grades weren't great coming out of wake to join the army. i could train to be a radiologist... when i got out i could apply again and hopefully that would be just cool enough to help out. even if i'm not a front-line guy, with the way the world is headed, i know it isn't the best of ideas. still, you only get one shot at this life and it would be a shame not to do something so honorable while the chance is there. could be one of those things i look back on when i'm eighty and think "i wouldn't have known it, but that was the best thing i have ever done"... fuck if i know. this morning in church one of the celebrations was that one of the kids i used to know in sunday school was home on leave. everyone clapped. it's that that i kind of wants for myself but nobody else does. but i guess it's automatic acceptance, more or less. similar to the kind i could have (in my mind) by riding a motorcycle, albeit more honorable. and to think, i could nullify half the purpose by doing better in school. concerns involving going overseas, whether or not i can go at all. fucking around freshman year is going to haunt me more than i ever knew. this year is going to be different.

more studying, more focus, more work... more alcohol, more fun... maybe even finding another satellite to share it with.