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.