Tuesday, December 30, 2008

New weird dreams...life since my semester took over my life

I dreamed odd dreams two nights ago...and then last night as well...
Two nights ago...I was on a commuter train to school, and I HAAAD to brush my teeth in the bathroom. I went and was rushing because I knew I was close to my stop. I came out of the bathroom and there were lots of people in the car, and I notice that my designer purse is on the ground...empty, along with my camera bag(I have a digital SLR) and I was quite upset to say the least.
The people on the train pretend as though they haven't seen a thing. I ask why nobody said anything. They all respond with...it's your stuff, you should have been watching it. Or...we didn't know your name, we couldn't call you... I remember adding to that that they certainly could have said...HEY THE CAMERA! Or HEY THE PURSE! Or they could have interrupted the guy...but no one did. I look at my camera bag and realize that it ISNT empty. Whoever took my camera put a false one in the bag, made of plaster of paris and a toilet paper roll as a lens. This made me even more unhappy...I was ready to punch someones face in.
At this point, I had missed my stop because I was so busy being upset with humanity. I followed a girl who was in the train with me when she got off, since I had to get off and go back to my stop anyway. She had long curly dark hair, and was wearing a beanie. It was getting dark and cold, and she was walking towards a park with trees. I called out and asked...why didn't anyone do anything? She turned and was like...pay attention to your stuff, and I pay attention to mine.

Another dream that haunts me....
I was back in High School, though not the one I attended...neither the californian one nor the French one. I met a boy with shoulder length dirty blonde hair. He seemed like any american kid for the first few minutes, then he stumbled over what he was saying, and I noticed his accent.
He told me he was sorry for his bad english, he was an exchange student from an arab country. I was excited, and I said "OH REALLY??? Adrooss alloorat alarabiyaa! I study arabic!" And he laughed and was really interested to find an american who was learning arabic "just cause." He started teaching me bad words. The school bell rang, and we went our seperate ways...I saw him walking down the hallway.
I turned and went through a doorway into a spiral staircase. I remembered the recent rumors of sacrifices and people disappearing, and suddenly felt very ill at ease. As I descend, there are red robes, like capes, and red slippers along the stairwell. I hear and see no one. I get to the bottom, and there is a table. Near the table are scalpels and needles and lots of vials of liquids...clear...and blood...
I see a girl hunched in a corner, rocking back and forth. I decide to leave. IMMEDIATELY. Across from the doorway I just came through, there is another doorway that leads to another spiral stairwell. I start climbing up, but bodies of people with slit throats start falling down the stairs towards me. I go back to the little room, and start up the staircase I used to get into the room in the first place. I hear footsteps. I go back into the little room, and everything starts to explode. The vials of blood start exploding, as do the other vials.

I don't remember anything else. Everything is black.

I remember next being on the surface. Everyone is walking around a field. We are looking for pools of water that are between 4 and 7 feet across. They are apparently quite deep. They go at least as deep as the subterranean room I was in before. We are looking for bodies, but we are finding pieces. Finally we find a girl. (for some reason it's one of the characters from a TV show I watched during middle school) I run into a few boys that are talking about the arab guy. Saying that they haven't seen him since before things went crazy. I walk over and say something about how I had met him earlier in the day, and that he seemed really interesting. The boys...both were taller than I, and one was wearing a baseball cap turned backwards. If I remember correctly, it was he that spoke...
He got a smirk on his face and asked me why the arab was so important...then turns to his friend and says see...girls only want to talk to guys for ONE REASON.
I turn away pretty pissed off...I had just been happy to connect with someone so well...and now we are all looking for bodies.

other news:
my grades.
first semester of college.
working two part-time jobs.
tutoring once a week.
17 units.
a friend visiting from a foreign country during my final exam week.
I can't believe it.

Scholarship through my University is TAKING ME TO AUSTRIA FOR A WEEK THIS SUMMER! I get free airplane ticket to Europe basically. I have some work to do for the university upon return obviously...

I have had a friend from last years adventure in France visiting for the past three weeks. She leaves early in the morning on the 1st of the year.
She is much more active of a person than I, and I feel like I've done more in the past few weeks than I have done in a long time. A Sharks hockey match, San Francisco for a day, Los Banos hunting with my dad, the Sierra Nevadas, hiking in local state and county parks, the beach, Santa Cruz...etc...
ALOT of amazing pics taken.

New years resolutions...
1. Spend less time on Facebook.
2. Spend more time exercising.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

New job, New dreams

I started a job as a photographer for an RV dealership in Morgan Hill, CA. I take pictures of the RV's and then upload them to their website. I also am eventually going to have some degree of say over their web design! I like this very much. I also like that I pick my hours more or less, and I do it on my time. Oh yes. Heaven is picking your hours, free chocolate chip cookies, playing around with a flash and wide angle lens, free coffee, and talking to fun old fuddy-duddies.
My ONLY issue is that since I started this job, I dream about RVs. I dream about fifth wheels, class C motor homes, class A motor homes(Gas and Diesel), Trailers, Toy Haulers, Horse trailers...the list continues...
I dream about finding them on the lot from my inventory list, unlocking them, climbing in and out of them, finding good angles to take photos, and then climbing out, and locking them. How mundane, in comparison with some of my other wonderful colorful dreams. I really should go back further and post more of those here.

Monday, November 17, 2008


I like to wander in and out of the buildings on campus. The old natural sciences building has tall ceilings and dancers glide through it's halls. I slink against the wall. Someone was laying face-down on the Tower lawn today. I hope he was just sleeping, like I thought.
I should really write that two page, double spaced french paper for tomorrow, but I think it can wait until the last minute. Like every other paper I have written for the class.
I walk around and see someone else that walks where they can avoid the majority of the cracks. But I don't say "hello, I avoid the cracks too!" because he doesn't look like someone I would talk to. So many faces pass me, speaking so many languages. Every stranger is just a friend we have not yet met. I remember hearing that somewhere. There are so many people that I will never know. So many people I pass on a daily basis that are not part of my life except as the person I pass everyday on my way to class. Why can't we touch each other?
I miss the affection in good strong friendship. The true affection.
I miss hugs that mean something and french bisous.
I feel lost in such a large place...but I still know who I am...even when I don't feel sure of myself.
I am tired of living at home, but I have nowhere else to go.
I am tired of being a child, when I am long past due for a rebellion.
I need to go sit by my favorite fountain soon.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Fortune Tellers

I have come to the conclusion that if I want to have any psychic readings done, I will be doing them. I went to the psychic in downtown Morgan Hill, CA. I have driven past the place for years, wondering what it would be like to have a reading done. I went by there today for the first time. The woman came to the door in her robe. She told me she or her daughter could give the reading, but that we would have to come back in about 15 minutes. We decided that that was ok, and we went for a walk. Upon return, the daughter came to the door. She was wearing a big long black wig, and was trying to play up the stereotypical psychic thing. She explained the pricing to us. Apparently the 10$ special was for a 5 minute reading. WoooFreakingHOOO. There were other options that were much more expensive. I thought...hmmmm....I just need to take out my tarot deck and relearn some of this stuff...same about palmistry...I just need to relearn what I once knew. And that crytal ball I've always wanted? That would be nice too.
Oh my.
What a rip-off.

A dream...

I dreamt that I was in Europe, in some green and hilly region with low, roughly made stone walls. I was with a group of people, walking around in a secluded area, looking at old creepy houses. Somehow I got split from the group, along with another person, a boy. We were walking on a small road, in a forested area, and came upon a road where there were lots of cars...they were driving on the right side of the road...hmmm...couldn't have been England...
I grabbed the boys hand, and I jumped up and we flew down the roadway, because in my dreams I often can fly like a superhero. It comes from many years of my dreamself avoiding bad guys and perfecting a technique to flying. There are of course different techniques for different situations, but I digress. We went along the road for awhile, until it started to get dark. We eventually got to an old gate and I looked down the drive and saw a run down mobile home. I said to the guy I was with. This is it, it's here. So we went down the drive and walked up the steps to the mobile home, and knocked then went inside. The front room looked like the reception of a doctor's office. There were some framed diplomas...
A short, round man with gray hair (balding a bit on the very top) came out of one of the rooms to the side, and started talking to us. He seemed to know we were coming, and was not surprised to see us.
He kept insisting to me that I come back to see him, but not at this place. He kept telling me I had to see him at his home, that he couldn't help me HERE, only at his home. I was confused by this at first, but then I was just very sure that I should go back to see him. Then he helped the guy with something...
I looked out the back window, and saw a marsh with lots of cattails that were turning a golden color. The sky was streaked with different shades of blue and purple between the clouds. I remember saying "Ça ferait vraiment une belle photo..." ("That would make a really nice photo") And the Doctor (I just mentally thought Professor...though that wasn't the word that came to me in my dream) started talking to me, telling me to come back and to see him at his house. I can't remember if he was speaking French from the beginning of the dream, but I do remember clearly that he did after I spoke in French first. He was admant about going back to him. Then he gave me a list handwritten on white paper in blue ink. I promised him, telling him I was almost certain I would be back in Europe this summer, and that I would go see him. I had to promise him over and over, then he seemed a bit relieved that I was really thinking about coming back. That I would try to come see him.
It was as if he had something important for me, to give to me or to tell me, but that he was incapable of doing in the mobile home.
Maybe he will come back to me in future dreams, or maybe I will meet him in the future.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Looking through my filing cabinet

I went through my filing cabinet yesterday in a futile attempt to find a poem I was sure I had copied down at some point. I do that, when I like a poem or a quote or a word. I take note of it, and scribble it down, and file it away. A friend had posted something on his bog, and I thought about the poem. I couldn't remember the title OR the poet. I did eventually find it, online, after many searches that came up empty:

In the Desert

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter – bitter", he answered,
"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart."

--Stephen Crane

I did spend a long time digging around in my filing cabinet though. I found about twenty or thirty unfinished stories I had once started but never finished. I found lists of names, and ideas, and scribbles, and magazine cutouts and many other silly little things. I want to write again!
I signed up for NaNoWriMo, but I haven't written a word...and we're already a WEEK into November!

Tuesday, October 28, 2008


I do love a good puzzle.
I wrote a poem out with each line, and used a website to find an anagram of each...

Its funny how the lines come out in a way that still makes enough sense....

Frilly he demon.
Chief spanker.
Tigerish lad.
Keen die heedless whoredom.
Well! I am the hard-core frightening.
Harmed, merrier handiness.
More shrewd self-hate.
I'm left why.
Savagely warm honest abhorrence.
Lose now honored athlete.
Heart-throb as mean sage.

and finally...the websites name...in anagram of course!
Win wet consents warm gems.


Its as if you hide words
under your tongue
like a child hiding candy,
the wrapper deep in his pockets.

Your compliments come in strange boxes
They are in a rough paper
tied sometimes with twine
some times with ribbon
and have many layers of thin sheets veiling the intent.

Only when I get to the center
will I understand.
Perhaps, if ever...

Monday, October 27, 2008


I was reminded of a conversation that I had with a friend this last August. If I could collect anything...

I would collect interesting musical instruments...though I don't play any with any amount of skill.

I would collect hand-blown glass...specifically pipes...though I don't smoke.

What do I collect now?

I collect words like forgotten treasures.

I collect quotes and meditate on their meaning.

I collect interesting teas and sit smiling, eyes shut, with a steaming cup.

I collect antiques...antique rings...antique pill boxes...vintage clothing...anything that has a story.

I collect languages.

Stressful dreams...

I don't smoke pot. I don't smoke at all, actually. In this dream though...

I was at work, at the Foreign Language Lab in my University. For some reason I was smoking from one of those awesomely beautiful blown glass pipes, and just as I took the first drag...the head of the French department walked into the Lab. She is an intimidating French woman. She didn't see what I was doing, and I was able to hide in the back storage room, but she somehow figured out what I was doing and who was doing it at a later point.
Then it was required of me that I take a drug test.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

La Familia by Mirah

A song I have been stuck on for a long time.

Hey friends don't you think you better cool it down
You're always gettin' curious and leavin' town
You know i like it being in your family
I wonder what would happen if nobody left
We'd all stick around if we'd all stick around

And here's a question that's been tested:
Tell me, if we sleep together
Would it make it any better?
If we sleep together
Would you be my friend forever?

If we sleep together
Would it make it any better?
If we sleep together
Would you be my friend?

Hey friend listen up their playing our song
On the radio, do you have to go?
I really like it, this rock and roll
Makes me want a little sugar in my bowl
It's like the glory days, it's like a fortune sold

And here's a question that's been tested:
Tell me, if we sleep together
Would it make it any better?
If we sleep together
Would you be my friend forever?

If we sleep together
Would it make it any better?
If we sleep together
Would you be my friend?

Let's none of us forget about who we are
So choose a path and follow it
Take a pill and swallow it
None of us forget about who we are
It's not forever we can fool around in the dark

If we sleep together
Would it make it any better?
If we sleep together
Would you be my friend forever?

If we sleep together
Would it make it any better?
If we sleep together
Would you be my friend forever?
Forever (x8)

Saturday, October 25, 2008

My recent dreams...

I should preface this with the statement that my dreams are often long and complex, and I manage to remember them fairly well on a surprisingly regular basis. (Depending on how much sleep I get and whether or not an alarm wakes me up)

The most recent things I can think of then:

1) Yesterday I was going through my closet looking for shoes, when I pushed a long floor length orange dress from the 1970's that I must have gotten at a thrift shop at some point out of the way. When I touched the dress, a dream that I had forgotten from the night before flooded back into my mind:

I had just gotten home, and my family was having a garage sale. My boyfriend (I don't have one in reality just now...) had put my orange dress on a mannequin and was trying to sell it at the yard sale. I was FURIOUS!

2) I dreamed I was going to a party (tonight's party perhaps?) and I was running late. I somehow ended up in Santa Cruz instead of in San Jose, and then got stuck in traffic. I got out of the car, picked it up and put it on the other side of the road, facing the other direction. I got in the passenger side, stuck one foot out the window, and was driving from that side of the car over highway 152. Not a good idea in general, terrible idea on this highway. Curvy windy roads going up then down a mountain...I was stressing out!

Je sais que tu sais...I know that you know...

About so many different people and things in my life...recently and in the past...and the future, I'm sure.

Je sais que tu sais
que j'aime la folie, la nature, la beauté.

Je sais que tu sais
que j'aime le contrôle.
(Même si cela n'est qu'une illusion
que je nourris depuis des années)

Je sais que tu sais
que j'aimais des autres.
(Et je crois que tu sais que je sais
que tu aimerais figurer parmi eux)

Je sais que tu sais
que je sais
que tu pense à moi
je ne sais pas quoi faire de cela.

Je sais que tu le sais.

A Choice

I lay so often half awake
under my feather blanket
Mixing the dream and reality
in a never-ending dance
blurring the edges of time and space
until I don't know which way will lead me to clarity
I hear someone talking
but is this the dream?
or is it the real?
I slip between asleep and awake
taking pleasure in my slow advance towards the day
reveling in the extra dream-time
All too soon I will take full responsibility and wake up.

Friday, October 24, 2008


I was out of the USA for eleven months, and I returned last July. I kept telling myself that I SHOULD inform myself and know more about the presidential candidates, who's backing them, what they really stand for. I never really did.

The media tells us what to think, and we buy it like we buy every other amazing marketing scheme that has been dropped on our heads in the recent past. Obama is not just a presidential candidate, he is a brand name. Like a cereal, an exercise machine, or an mp3 player. The analogy I came up with with a friend was the iPod. Ipods are pretty cool mp3 players. They have a sleek design, and are marketed well and everyone wants one. People forget there are other brands, they get so caught up in wanting what everyone else wants. What happened to thinking for ourselves? What happened to researching the candidates? I feel like the majoirty of people I know THINK that they are informed voters, but in fact they have been informed by the media. They have been told what they want to hear. They have seen campaign ads that don't even address the issues at hand, but that evoke an emotion or a feeling within.

I talked to my parents...who are McCain supporters in this election...just as they were Bush supporters before. (Don't crucify me for that, it's THEIR choice, not mine) I told them how jaded I was with the system, and how I felt that no matter who won the election, many things are going to be screwed over. New problems will arise...I found an article about Chomsky's stance on the election...he apparently feels the same as I do.

During my discussion with my parents, my dad jokingly mentioned a quiz he had taken online to see which candidate his views on the issues matched with best. McCain, go figure. I decided to find a few of these sites and play around with these quizzes. The results? Bob Barr. Every single time. Bob Barr is apparently my best match in what I want as far as the issues go.
I got onto his campaign webpage. I started reading the stances on issues. Wait...support for gunlaws and gay marriage? Cutting back on welfare programs and letting charitieshelp people...since they tend to do it more effectively anyway? America shouldn't be the world's policeman? More help for veterans? Less government regulation of education (Wouldn't it be AMAZING to get rid of No Child Left Behind??? Ask teachers, it doens't work)? The more I read the issues the more I realize why I feel so out of place in our political system these days.
We have forgotten that there are other parties. The media polarizes everything into Red and Blue, and we are fed the false choice between Republican or Democrat, Red or Blue, Conservative and Liberal. There are other choices.

In high school civics a few years ago, I remember vaguely talking about other parties. By the time we are seniors in high school, we have been so shaped and formed by the media we don't even consider the other parties. We don't look at their merits. They can't advertize to us, we don't care. They don't have the money to show us what we want. But they might have it.
According to a Gallup poll from a few years ago, there is a huge number of Americans that vote for one of the two poles, when in reality they don't agree with every issue. They make comprimises. And we have to do this.

But realize: the media likes the poles, the Red and the Blue, because it makes money...and the poles spend money. They are marketers selling a brand.
There are other options. And if enough of those voters that make important compromises that they don't have to make, and vote for a third party, they could potentially bring about REAL CHANGE in our government.

Who am I voting for in my first presidential election that I am of voting age? I have always thought it important to vote...but as an informed voter. I still don't understand this enough to make an informed decision. I think though, that if I do vote, it's not going to be a name brand. It'll be for a candidate that matches my beliefs and my views on the issues...on every count. Why vote for a candidate because everyone else will be? I've never been that much of a follower.

Funny thing. Didn't George Washington, upon leaving his office as President of the United States of America, tell us to avoid political parties? That they would be the downfall to such a great country as ours?

Thursday, October 23, 2008

There's something
In your calm and self control
That makes me uneasy, my friend.
In the deliberateness of your actions and speech
That bothers me in some unusual way.
There's something
In your gaze, lacking any presuppositions,
That makes me unsure of myself

When I first met you
I had a strange impression
It marked me, I wrote it down.
I wasn't sure for awhile, I thought my impression was just another silly thought
That passed through my mind on a quiet day.
Now I'm not so sure.
Funny how that goes.

I sense I can trust you with my strange thoughts
And dreams
And ramblings.
I can tell them differently.
I can explain them fully.
Not be worried I might be taken for crazy.

Yet you make me uneasy.
In some strange and inexplicable way.

Golden Light Oct 22

Driving to the light-rail station this morning, I went past a field full of Canadian geese. I went past it at just the right moment, when the light illuminated the world and made everything shine golden. These moments only last a short time, and it's always just as impressive to see. Every feather, every blade of grass, every shining drop of dew, every spiderweb and every little detail of the world seems more vibrant...

I got past the field and drove through a copse of trees, and on the other side, everything was normal again. The golden light was gone, the heightened sense of the world was gone...until another time.

Dream Oct 22

I was in that place....the place where that is dark, but illuminated with a light that comes from nowhere. I've been there before in meditations...you walk down the stairs, counting down as you go into the deeper parts of your consciousness. Sometimes someone waits for me there. Last night no one was there. The ground I was on was glassy, and frozen over. I tried to melt the thin layer of ice on the floor with my hands. It would melt, then freeze back over. As my hands got colder and colder, my attempts became more and more fruitless. The ice stopped melting under my cold fingers. I started to try to scratch the ice off, but the scrapings would melt back into place, covering the ground.

Never before have I noticed any ground in the place(It is nameless, formless, shapeless...it is simply That Place). It was there, but never seen. There was always something invisible, intangible holding up the scene, holding me up, holding up whatever is present. Never has the ground been so important. It always just was, had always been, always would be.

Why is the ground freezing over? What has changed?

Oct 20

Today I went for a walk.

There is a wall on campus that is a fountain, and I heard it talking to me. I sat down on the bench for twenty minutes and let it tell me its secrets.

I let it take me away from here. It took me out to a place where burbling water can say meaningful things. It took me to a place where people don't think that's crazy. The fountains whispering gave me ideas, told me where to go, let me relax. My mind was clear of anything but the sound of water. That doesn't happen often.

I sat on the bench and shut my eyes and listened.

I haven't felt that beautiful in a long time.

I miss the rain.
we cherish our delusions dearly
hold them close
love them queerly

we believe their power is undying
oh they're lying

oh they're lying

keep every thing in its place
nail it down

don't take chase
let the world fall away
take the risk

take the risk

I am running...

Someone recently told me an analogy that made me think.
Telling people to stop searching and see what they have is like telling a runner looking for rest that they just have to stop running and they will find rest. They will answer that they can't stop because they are looking.

I don't like running. Physical running. The kind they make you do around a track in high school.
People that run like to run, or feel they have to run...they want to keep running. They like the adrenaline and the boost they get from it. They don't want to rest.

There is a mosquito in my room. It's distracting me from writing.

People that are looking for themselves keep looking. It's hard to stop and say: I have found myself.

Its hard to let yourself be free. Freedom is scary.

This entire post is based off the last few days of interesting discussion I suppose. Not much is new, except the mosquito. I've missed swatting him twice already. Third time's a charm.

Tonight on my way home, I stopped at a stop sign near the Library in Morgan Hill. A doe and two fawns picked that moment to cross the street in front of me.
I like how moments like that make me happy about life. They make me smile.