02.24.2004 9:18 am
Om, rama-lama-ding-dong

He lit his awkward adolescent son and smoked him, head-down, like a cigarette.

I haven't done any homework for Assunta's Play Analysis class yet. None. Not a single sentence. However, I was in a black place, and we've left that black place behind now. Somewhat. Mostly. At least now I can do homework again. For a while ... I wrote in my other journal that there are times when my mind is completely cleared of words: it's magical. I love it, and it's only happened in two particular circumstances. 1) In the presence of one particular (and why him? who knows) person, whom I've only seen a couple times in my life. 2) After a lot of meditation. I'm talkin, a lot. Days upon days of spending hours upon hours meditating. Then, if I'm lucky, I manage to clear my mind for a few minutes, until the thoughts come back, like hundreds of clear streams of kerosene catching fire at the tails. In my head.

That's the status quo. Depression... here we go. My thoughts, when I'm depressed, are like the reel of a movie that someone's sliced up into tiny bits, and then each bit is glued to a magnet, so sometimes big strings of thoughts that don't belong together end up together, and sometimes even thoughts that seem like they should go in order aren't able to, because the magnets are opposing.

Just had to get that out.

I'm glad to have my mind back.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -