Archive for July, 1997


I think that I might just be headed for a crash, a really big crash, or maybe a really cool explosion. I dunno, things just seem to be coming to a head. I guess that’s convenient given that summer is almost over.


I have been experiencing slight to mild vertigo since I woke up this morning. It’s that dizzy feeling that you get after you have just been spinning around in circles for a while. I am also slightly nauseous. All in all, it feels like I have just gotten through spinning, except that it has been going on all day. It has not been incapacitating as of yet, though I have had to sit down 1 or 2 times and I keep bumping into walls and stuff.

Right now, the explanations that I am considering are: 1. poisoning of some kind either through food or perhaps a spider bite, 2. high blood pressure which my mom offered as the only thing that she had heard of that could explain it, 3. a psychosomatic experience. Personally I am leaning towards #3, not only because it is the coolest in my personal opinion and that I can back it up to some extent, but that the feeling is unlike any that I have experienced before as a result of a physical ailment.

I am reminded of the yoga class before a progoff session where we did a side to side rotation exercise and Eric said that if we were dizzy then that meant we had control issues. Who, lil’ ol’ me? Oh no, don’t be silly. =)


Another thing that is bothering me a bit more than the dizziness is a sleep walking type of thing that I have now done twice.

It is not like how I am accustomed to hearing sleep walking described, and I think that might just be because some of my dreams are not as I normally hear dreams described.

As an aside, there seem to be cycles for me with being able to remember what I dream. I will have periods where it seems like everything that I dream I remember. Usually this happens after I have come to closure on a goal that I set. Most of the rest of the time I remember next to nothing, except for perhaps a deja vous type deal when something I see during the day calls up a memory. However, at the peak of a time where I am struggling with something I will get very vivid and powerful images that stick with me into the daytime. Even thinking about these things draws me back into the mind that I had during the dream.

This is what I do sometimes in dreams that I have not heard other people describe. I am not sure if the words fit, but I think of it as an extreme empathic shift. If one were to say that we operate from a set of experiences and ideals that shape how we act, then when I dream I take on another set of thoughts. I would say that I become another person, but there is some essence of Willness that exists beyond thought and beyond action that is the same. This really has no affects other than philosophical, because it does not affect how I feel or how I act.

A recent and extreme example of this is a dream that I had after I went to see Con Air last saturday. I won’t go through the whole dream, but in it I was criminally insane. I don’t mean to say that there was me imagining how a criminally insane person might act in a situation, I mean that the information was fed into my mind and processed through a reasoning structure and actions came out. I can only get half a feel for it now, but I was the only important person. Other people were convenient and entertaining at times, but not actual entities other than as objects. The primary objective of my existence was the satisfaction of my desires (so some things didn’t change,) but my desires were quite a bit less complex. Because I was the only actual entity other people did not have to be satisfied for me to be. It would take a long time to lay it all out, but there was a sustainable reasoning structure that was used and backed up by action and consequence.

What has been bothering me is that I have woken up twice now when I was thinking with another mind and up moving around. The first time I was looking out of my window contemplating the trees at night. All of my thoughts remember like dreams, but it was some strange stuff. Last night it happened again and I can only remember part of it, but I had a task that I had to do, and I got out of bed and put on my clothes, and then it fades out. It remembers just like a dream, except that I went to bed last night in my underwear and woke up dressed.

These experiences are not like half waking up and doing things in that confused state. My mind is clear, just different. I just worry that I might wake up one morning with blood on my hands. There is no other me to take control when my mind shifts in a dream. What I am doing is what is right and what is rational.

I feel like a character in a Stephen King book =)


As long as I am covering observations of my mind as of late…

With all that has been going on, I am getting a little bit threadbare. A couple of time I have lashed out and bitten peoples heads off. In a moment of something, I introduced Brett to MUDding, knowing enough about how he is structured to know that he would get addicted. I’m catching the tail end of that now. Every time that I need to get on the computer to check my e-mail or write; there he is. I would estimate his usage at 5-8 hours a day. My requests to use the computer have been getting more and more abrupt as time passes. I used to give him an hour or two’s notice, but I came home today and told him to get off or be eviscerated. I am starting to not care whether or not I get angry. I won’t say that it is a loss of control in a moment of passion, because it is not. Last night, Matt came in and turned on the TV (which I cannot work with it on) after I had been waiting 3 hours for first my mother, then my father to get off of the thing. I decided to let loose on him. I would like to say that it felt immature and I apologized, but it didn’t and neither did I.

Lindsay was supposed to call me last night and didn’t; a coincidence of course =)

I did get out of the house and help my mom with some grocery shopping which helped some.

I do not know how Lindsay feels about me, though I have strong suspicions. (I was going to take care of this a week ago? Uhh, I guess I forgot =) I am getting past the point of caring very quickly; to where regardless of what the truth is it is better than the uncertainty. Also, I really think that the right think to do is to talk to her (who has “My Best Friend’s Wedding,” we saw that on Sunday and talked afterward about the importance of the attempt even if it is unsuccessful. That and the fact that we both loved George, he was just cool; my hero =)


I guess that’s most of everything. I guess I’ll go bump into some more walls and enjoy going nuts!

XXX’s and OOO’s


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time is fleeting…carpe diem

I am afraid that you don't want me.
I am afraid that I am not what you need.
	Not smart enough, not funny enough, not charismatic enough
I am afraid of being a leech.
I am afraid of overestimating my importance in your life.

I want to be special to you.

I talked tonight about a place that I have been only once.
A mental gear so to speak...

Steele Creek Park, Bristol Tennessee, a little over one year ago.
I came to a point where I said,
	"I am not going to play the games anymore.
		I know that I might well get hurt.
		I know that I might well make things uncomfortable.
		I know that I might well hurt you.
			I am not going to try to prevent it anymore.
	Whatever will be, will be."
And I dropped like a stone.

First, it was going through all the things that I had been afraid to say:
	"I like you.
	 I think that you are in a bad situation.
	 I care about you.
	 I think this is hurting you.
	 You have choices."

There was skirting and hiding. Revealing a little bit, just a little.

Then, it started to cover other things:
	"I hurt alot.
	 I am afraid.
	 I feel so alone."

There was less inference and more openness. I, no We, spoke clearly.

When all that had been was covered, new creations began to form.
   Unlike anything I had ever known because they reached so deep:
	LOVE!!  =)

I spoke of kinship and oneness.
   I felt free.
   That was a holy place.


I can't say that I don't know what it is not to put on the faces,
because I think that I just might.

I wish that my wanting it was enough. It isn't though is it?
I don't know if I can get back there. I sure hope so.

I know that it takes bravery, and there are no guarantees.
Out beyond the safety nets a fall might just be nasty,
	but it's worth the risk, 1000 times worth the risk.

Well, I can talk the talk, can I walk the walk?
Only time will tell...

Que sera, sera ()


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                (Also known as the big whopperdoodle, allergy  or, advice
the most important part of this whole darn thing.)

So this is love, as demanding and nourishing and difficult as it can be, and as strong and wise as it makes you become.

There is something to be gained from commitment. There are rewards for staying when you would rather leave. And there is something to be said for running up that hill when you would rather slide down it. And so you let love come perch on your shoulder. And you do not turn it away.

You do the tango.

Just do it.

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(Love is hard work. And, sometimes, hard work can really hurt.)

Love is a game. If they didn’t tell you before, we will tell you now. Love is a game and if you play you either win, lose, or get ejected before the game is over.

There are no ties.

Maybe you’ll lose and learn some great meaningful answer from it all (Like if it looks too good to be true, it is.) It’s easy to love something when you don’t have to work at it. It’s harder when it asks for something of you, you might just be afraid to give.

Give it anyway.

The heart is the most resilient muscle. It is also the stupidest. So if this love you’ve found is good to you, hold it, keep it, shout about it. If it isn’t, then maybe you should just become very good friends.

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              (And the strange desire to eat everything in
             sight, hide in your room, and watch old Gidget
                 movies with friends from high school.)

Now comes that unavoidable time when you will say to anyone who will listen: what the heck am I doing, anyway? If it’s a person you love, first you hate only their foulest inadequacies, then you start hating their good points as well. If it’s running you love, you start hating hills, sidewalks, and bad weather, and soon anything that slightly resembles a bump, concrete, or a small breeze.

I can’t believe I ever said I felt this way, I must have been dreaming! Wait, this is no dream, this is a film noir movie, and one of those really dark ones, too. I mean, this is love? This is what they tell you about when you’re 11 and naive? Or 32 and more naive?

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(Also known as: Uh-oh.)

This is where the doubt begins, where the mind comes back from shopping, yells at the heart, binds and gags it to a nice lounge chair and allows guilt, failure, and remembrances of things past to sit in for a nice game of bridge. This is where you fear what you need most. If it’s a person you love, you fear appearing foolish in front of them. If it’s a sport, you fear being foolish in front of many, many people at the same time. And you begin to think:

oh no. What if I’m wrong? What if this stinks? What if my heart has blinders on, its had blinders on before, in fact it had dark heavy patches taped all over it. How can anyone love me if I don’t love myself? I mean, I love myself, there are just parts of me between the top of my head and the bottom of my feet that could use some improvement. I’m not demeaning myself, I have relatives who do that.

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cliffhanger…I'm going out for the evening

That’s as far as I have gotten so far.

Pretty cool?

I like it.

I’m going to The Olive Garden with Erin, she will be here in about 10 minutes and I haven’t taken a shower yet from work (I stinko, phew!) So I’ll have to finish later.

One of the coolest things about this is what it is, can anyone guess? I bet no one does, but the last line is a dead give away.

I have now added callipygian to my vocabulary, that word is cool.

Peace and Joy and Smiles and Hugs -Will

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(Or: Oh Yippie, you’re mine.)

You feel funny inside. You feel funny outside. You feel you could do anything and no one would dare laugh at you. This love, you will treasure. You will not put it in the basement next to your rowing machine, treadmill, and thermal body sweat wrap. And you will not take this love for granted, because that is the biggest sin of all. And you say:

I feel so good, I feel so strong, I feel actually attractive and I could learn to live with that feeling. Oh let us sing and dance and eat brown mushy foods low in fat! Oh joy! Oh rapture!

Oh but what if I’m no good at this? Oh I am no good at this. I am a dingy speck on the wall of humanity and look how badly painted that wall is! I am becoming very, very afraid. That must be because I’m passing into the Third Act, called:

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(I think I love you. Who are you anyway?)

Here it is, the big “wow,” the big “gee,” the big “yesyesyes” you’ve been waiting for. This is where you find something or someone and believe that they are better, greater, cuter, wiser, more wonderful than anything you have ever known.

Lust isn’t a sin, it’s a necessity, for with lust as our guide we imagine our bodies moving the way our bodies were meant to move: we can do marathons with our feet, lift pounds with our arms, have stars in our eyes and do a nifty tango. And you think:

I have no need of food, I have no need of sleep, I have no needs other than occasionally chewing a breath mint. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, probably because you haven’t happened to me yet. Now I can pass into the next Act, so poetically called:

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A passion play

(Or what happens when you fall down that long well
of passion over a person, viagra  a place, a sport, a game, a belief,
and your heart goes boom and your mind leaves town.)

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