There were powerful times in my life that happened during certain events, like my brother’s wrestling meets. But it really has little to do with those events. It’s only associated to it. They merely happened at the same time. But it was more something from inside myself, the way I was seeing things in my own mind rather than any external thing affecting me or triggering something.



I used to sit in empty hallways with all the lights off and only distant human voice, listening to music. One winter I smoked cigarettes in a classroom doorway. I remember those days of being a truly angsty teenager, feeling isolated but liking it a little. Even then you’re searching, but not knowing yet you’re going to spend the rest of life searching for who you are and what your life means, without getting any answers. And being sort of “bad” (the trespassing to those hallways wasn’t allowed; the doors were locked after all) seemed to give me some vague sense of purpose, or a taste of real intent. Something in my action felt alive for once. It’s the first taste at stepping outside of what you’re used to, stepping outside safety. Somehow it seems worth it to be in trouble.


I realize a lot of these times were just positioned throughout my life in moments of seclusion and introspection. They seem odd ly associated to the events around them but they stand alone. They are sectioned off as gems and only tied as if on a necklace. They string can easily give way, but the gems remain gems. They emerged more out of convenience and almost my soul’s necessary snatching. I was alone spending time at Richard’s house, my first year of college at Central, and in the hospital when I had leukemia. Rides in my car and in bed at night are shorter bursts, but made from the same substance, and me doing the same with it.


Also, the roaming in bathrooms to examine my skin and liking the old yellowish lighting in the bathrooms. Those sinks had to be from the 60s


…. more later