friend photo contest

Hey Y'all,

So a good friend of mine is looking for some support with an online photo contest for a scholarship. It would be great if you could view and vote for it; show some support! She deserves it.

check out the photo and vote here.

Cheers

remember to bring a shovel

don't forget to remember.

yes, here we are.

we are here.

albert einstein said that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

but if i know i'm going crazy then I must not be insane?

absurdities aside,

i'm not doing well.

something happened along the way and my foot fell off the pedal. i got out of the university machine and laid in the grass to watch the clouds pass. the leaves fell on top of me and i shuffled my body around to make a bed and took an afternoon nap beneath an oak tree. i awoke to find myself cold and hungry and instead of nourishing my healthy mind i decided to smoke a cigarette and drink cheap beer.

so here we are. I am here. the ninth semester of higher education and i'm failing. motivation turned contemplation into content for nothing. i'm practically behind in everything I got myself into. someone said today that they were about at their usual "one time a semester all-nighter cram." I thought about this and realized that I too am prone to this (procrastination has been a life trend); but mine always seem to drag for days, weeks perhaps. sleepless nights and early mournings, lack of food and abundance of stimulants. the work seems to have always gotten done, though. even with decent grades, nay even good grades, in the end.

i fear that i have pushed the nothing envelope too far this time.

true there still is time left to dig myself out of this hole I buried myself into.

my burrow is deep, but i can still smell the fresh air.

on a brighter note.

isn't it wonderful when someone unexpectedly comes out of nowhere and surprises you with hope that there are beautiful people to love in this world?

mmhm. it's nice to smile.

that is all.

kalamazoo daze.

there and back again. here I sit in my bedroom filled with my books and vinyl and pictures and sweaters; nothing keeps my head from wondering away from here. kalamazoo is the same place as I left it and that's not a bad thing. I realized quickly that I had missed this place. okay I'm lying, I missed the people, my family being so close, close friends, close proximity to comfort and ect. I said it, I like it here.

but, being back, what am I to do but think ahead. what's next?

well, all I know for now is that I am here for at least another year finishing school and then who knows. I could end up staying longer, but that will all come with availability of work and level of confidence I find myself with. for now I am comfortable.

these days have been filled with laziness and heat. one summer class, no job, no money, and a volunteer spot on the college radio station fills my time accordingly. I barely make any time for the one class I am taking. I hope I can pass it. I need to pass it. I MUST pass it. there is no way around it. I laugh because it's a creative writing class. how can you fail a creative writing class in the summer for god's sake? well, its a scriptwriting class and I am two weeks and twenty pages behind where I should stand. procrastination has followed me my entire life and the stoned summer sun does nothing to help.

it is 4:59 am and it is obnoxious that I am still up and have yet squeeze out any substance on this script. blah.

also, I might try more diligently in my efforts to write a blog. I just might.

bethink oneself of

sometimes I remember the times when I was with everyone who made me who I am. sometimes I think I might grow old in these same shoes. sometimes I want to shout at the top of my lungs that I am thankful. that I care. sometimes I say nothing at all. sometimes I look around and remember how different this all used to be. how these things we used to put so much care into, so much thought and love, so much passion and energy, these things are just sedentary thoughts of non existence. but I still exist, well, at least I think. and not therefor I am. because that is a slimy epoch of what we are. so what am I really trying to say?

well, listen, I only keep thinking of change; change in feeling, mindset,behavior, likes, dislikes, thoughts, wants, needs, looks, actions, inaction's, habits, and of course, all happening within a changing space and time. daily, we are changing. we are the change. I am changing. and I am glad. I prune too easily in stagnant waters and feel sticky when I sit too long. is this to say I want to forever drift, constantly searching? no. certainly not. more so I wish to acknowledge the people that are involved in our collective change. all the thoughts involved in the daily changes that we all experience. we're all struggling on this perception of existence.

on life.

so all that I've said before about keeping up on journal writing was true in fact, but only true to the extent of my hand holding a pen on a pad of paper. It obviously did not take long for me to fall out of touch with updating life on the internet. I feel the need to apologize to the people that care to know and the people that I care to keep in contact with. I have so many stories collected from travels, pictures of places, and though only a small amount of recorded footage, the minutes are increasing rapidly as the winter warms and the days get longer. I would like to share, maybe with a letter or post card, or with good time, in person.

my time here is at mid point and the second semester of study is already under way. I have moved out of the university international housing complex into a flat atop pine hill in a room with a view of the city and harbour. it's quaint and quiet, cold yet comfortable, and gives a reason to stay in shape when biking home. I could be a recluse to the dunedin bar scene, but I think its a good thing. I've been reading more, writing more, biking more, exploring more, and getting more active within the university clubs and city events. I also started baking bread again and can smell it in the oven now.

With all said, life is good. Staying the length I chose was a positive thing and I'm certainly glad I did. Who knew that you could ever see the winter in the middle of July?

names etched in wood

I close my eyes to see something inside myself. I’m trying to remember something I meant to say. I try and see what the picture of myself was last year. I try to put myself in my head six months ago. I try. and I cannot. I open my eyes. I wrote in my journal the day that I got here. "Here I am, on the other side of the world, with so much to come, before only dreams and perceptions and now a reality. And in ten months from now, after all of this, I will return. And so it begins." every step was like a fresh new stride, every turn was a brand new sight, every day was new beginning. and only now there is repetition, a wanderless day, a dull night spent on the internet, writing feelings in blogs. homework assignments that are a struggle to complete, only to be put aside to go to the bar and socialize with mates. to put off responsibility in attempts to make the most out of everything. attempts. attempts of actually saying more than one sentence of pessimistic and cynical garble, when I’m so blessed to be here. I am blessed, and I am truly thankful. I am trying to pinpoint this feeling that I have in my stomach. it creeps into my chest. it rattles inside my head. it might be a bit of anxiety of schoolwork. a bit of me being nervous I’m not making the right decisions with how I spend my time, spend my money, spend my thoughts while never bothering to write them down. a week from today will mark two months. before I left I spent more money on a cannon xha1 digital HD camera then I have for any material object I’ve ever laid my hands on. such an amazing piece of machinery will take this beautiful place and put it on the screen with crystal clear picture and an ability to produce 1080 i quality high-definition. and what have I used the camera for so far? nothing substantial or even worth posting yet because it is almost too nice, too fragile to take out of the case and bring out into the beautiful harmful bush, scenic countryside, and so on. and even after all of this I did not bother to notice I was not armed with the right cord to transfer video to my laptop. garble, garbley, goo. any whoo. tomorrow is another day, with forecast for sunshine and warm rays. and now for wishful, hopeful thoughts. in good time I will complete the gap of time between the last date in my journal and these first few entries. all of memories and moments splashing around inside. routine and peace of mind. I am terribly repeating myself. like a record, spinning round.

connected, content

Sitting in a small patch of grass in the middle of the Otago campus I browse articles on the New York Times website in attempt to stay a bit connected with the world back home. Posting pictures on the web, skyping with family, updates on facebook and blogs, all keeping distance no factor in close communication. It seems trite but as I sit here, so far away, I cannot help but think of how we are all interconnected, just a few clicks away. The clock tower just struck one a.m. and a group of students walked by and asked, "Is everything was okay, mate?" I looked over silently and the janitor on a smoke break behind me answered, "yeah, just having a smoke." They passed and he paced around and eventually noticed me sitting below the steps in the grass. He said hello and mentioned how they must have been talking to me. I shrugged and said I thought they were talking to him. "Was there something unusual with sitting in the grass at one a.m. on my laptop?" I thought. He finished his cigarette and coffee and offered me a cup. Considering the time I declined his offer but he suggested hot chocolate and I gladly accepted. A brilliantly warm cup of hot chocolate with milk was handed to me with a smile and a "cheers, mate." I couldn’t express my gratitude enough, and he was gone, back into the building, with a whistle and a shut of a door. I love this city, this country, life.

It is the last day in March, and I have mid-term tests next week in two papers or classes. In my first few weeks here I kept dreaming of home, of friends and experiences and situations of my past, in the states, and everything except New Zealand. I would wake and almost forget where I was. The smell of the air from my window and the view of the hills in the distance and it quickly came back. It wasn't until about a month in that I began to remember and recognize my dreams of life abroad, or more accurately, my new home. I began to feel like I was really living here and not just away from someplace. It was during dinner this evening (consisting of steak, mashed potatoes and corn on the cob) that I had a strange case of déjà vu. It was the complete moment, words said, faces, gestures, setting, everything in its place; I was still and quiet. It is quite an odd thing, I feel as if I can almost remember a time when I woke up from a dream, and the dream was this moment, but was this just a memory of a not so distant situation of the same? Hm. Well the janitor came out and said the sprinklers start about this time in the night, I should get going. Goodnight.