Adam,

Yes, it's that time when I get to write to you. Adam. Oh Adam. What am I even going to say about this one? I guess I'll start from the beginning. Isn't that what people do? Tell their story. I'm going to tell ours.

It was a hectic weekend. I had gone to Janesville just in the middle of the semester, November. Needed a haircut that I had gotten earlier that morning. Saturday. Janesville Public Library--Hedburg Public Library. The study place of choice in Janesville because there's absolutely nowhere else and this is pre-starbucks. They're still doing construction on the lower level. That means no coffee. Damn, I needed it. I had been sitting at the library for a few hours. Little ibook sitting out on the table all cute by the window overlooking the scenery. The rock river flowing fast and steady through the background through the window. I was in the very back of the library. I had noticed a few messages over the intercom about the children's meeting starting in the children's section, but didn't think much of it, at least, not until you mentioned it. I did however, notice you walk in. Those pj's I'd seen you wear so often and that hat. The grey hat. I'm sure that you were wearing it. It's the same hat you'd later wear to the family christmas party at my house. I was working on an English paper--English 167 to be exact. It was my first college paper. And you...I remember you sitting at the table in front of me. I remember that I had tried to look cute that morning, but now I don't remember why. The library's not the place to meet people, not in Janesville. The haircut? Maybe. We'll never know... I remember the grey wool jacket you wore that day, and the messenger bag slung over your shoulder--the one I often times remembered you wearing across the same shoulder as you'd fastily bike to class after we'd both be late waking up. The library...yes, we were in the library. The message came on again, "The children's book reading will be starting in 10 minutes in the Children's reading room" or something like that...I don't remember what it said, but I remember it bothering me. You turned around. We both had that strange look on our faces like, "Isn't this supposed to be a library?!" Yes, it was. Not a dating service. It happened again..."The children's book reading will be starting in 5 minutes..." Again, you turn around, only this time, we chat a little about it. I noticed you checking your WiscMail, but didn't mention it. Perhaps you were a TA. You looked older, but how old? I couldn't tell. You asked what I was working on. Where I went to school. About the Coletrain CD's sitting on the desk in front of me. It's all so vivid to me now. That moment of you leaning over your chair asking about me and me asking about you. That's when I found out that you were Adam. Adam Haese. Your screen name...yes, you were getting on AIM. Adamj61 Yes...that will forever be engrained in my head. (ingrained maybe? note to self: look that up...) I remember not being able to get anything done, strangely drawn to you, yet I needed to leave. I had a paper to write! I needed to get out. Why was I so worried about this guy asking for my screen name and my name and what I did? I'm not sure. But I remember telling my mother everything when I got home. Instantly I was on AIM as well. What was I thinking?! I had his screen name and he had mine, but...? You IM'ed me...or was it me who IM'd you. I'm not sure, that's all a blur now. But we talked that afternoon. And a few days later. And finally made plans since you were a music junkie just like me. You saxaphone, Me violin. I had an audition coming up. The School of Music. My dream. My future. What I'd been working all my life for. I needed to practice that day. Everyday. I remember I had a lesson on the day I met you. Was it before or after? I'm not so sure now...after I think. Regardless, we made plans for me to come over a few days before my audition with everything set up so that I could showcase my work. Showcase. Yes, I was good enough to show off for others now. Hours upon hours in a practice room. Two to Three hours every day. The pressure to keep up my skills, the hours of icing my hands afterwards. I didn't care. I knew I was ruining them, slowly ruining them, but I had to. This was what I'd worked for every day in my life. The music. It was all about the music. It always has been.
I made my best friend drive me to your house that night. You were cooking dinner when we arrived. Your apartment was sort of messy. Not unclean, just a bit out of place. The old couch that sunk and had hardly any structure as you'd lie on it. That god awful brown plaid couch from the 70's. But, we had some great times on that couch. I watched my first full episode of Seinfeld on that couch after I gave you the first season as a gift on your birthday in January of the next year. I sat with your cousin as he tried to sleep on that couch. I entertained your cousin when you were in the other room with the pictures on my computer as you were trying to do things in your room. Only now do I realize what you were probably doing in that room with the door closed. That night, the night I first went to your house. I got out my instrument. Tuned. Played my two pieces with utmost beauty and passion as if I was really playing for the audition and all the while, you watched. You commented. You gave me constructive criticism and said that I was very good. Nothing I hadn't heard before. It was crunch time though and I wondered when I was going to get home to do more practicing for the night. Jenn was wrestless. She needed a cigarette while on the phone with one of our friends, Becci. Adam and I were alone. Alone for the first time. You were sitting on the floor. I can't put my finger on it just yet, what were you wearing? Oh, I don't remember...something comfortable, some sort of lounging around pants--you were notorious for those--and a plain old t-shirt. Something worn in--something you'd had for awhile. I couldn't believe someone like this was from Janesville. Oddly cultured, and from Janesville? Hmm....I wondered the motives of this boy. Was he just lying to me? I didn't mind. It all sounded wonderful in my naieve little head. If only I had known then... I sat down on the floor with you after you beckoned me forward. I wondered why you weren't sitting on the couch or chair across your small living room. We sat together, just talking. Then you leaned in. I wasn't sure what you were doing at first, but you leaned in and kissed me. You kissed me. That felt electric, but why? I knew I'd thought you were cute the moment I walked into your apartment before, and all of the talk of music? It's awful to get an idea like that into my head. You knew the theory I had learned in High School. I could talk to you about chord structure, the dominant fifth, progressions, scales, modes, you named it. Anything in beginning theory I was game to talk about. That was all really hot to me at the time. We heard Jenn come in....she wanted to leave. Adam offered to let me stay there and practice for awhile while his friend came over to help with the meal he was cooking for his class. Botony 240-Plants and Man. What was his name again? That friend of yours....It'll come. Everything comes with time.



I need to get to sleep. It's almost 1. Make this a work in progress...

12...am?

2 hours. That's enough time to watch a movie (or most of one), make a well put thought out dinner, read 70 pages (ok, so who really counts how many pages they read in an hour...not I), I could get all spiffed up in that amount of time twice. And what was I doing tonight? talking on the phone. That means I finished 0 philosophy exam questions in that time limit, worked on none of my political science paper, and didn't brainstorm my thoughts for african american studies discussion tomorrow morning--which i'm going to be worthless for anyway since I left the book in fuckin janesville. Yes, fuckin Janesville. Apparantly it's those damn people from Janesville that can't punctuate sentences correctly when they don't have spell check or Microsoft Word to do it for them. Yup, that's me. The shitty writer who sits around at the table writing blogs instead of papers at night. And do I see anything wrong with this? No...not until tomorrow when I'm stressed out again. BUT, I have more time tomorrow to think about the things I need to do. Like those crappy papers. (UGH...!)

The whole thing that's really blissful about this? I enjoyed every waking minute of it. From the gaffaw description right down to the "Will you go with me...?" conversations. I'm dying. Literally dying inside with excitement. Is insightment a word? Because I'm feeling a good amount of insight right now. I've been dying to just sit down and write for a few days now...and well, the last time I did, the previous blog was all I'd give myself time for. I've realized that the last things have been ridiculously vague and that's because I don't want to piss anyone off by my blog. I've done that a lot lately...but seriously, don't read my shit if you're going to take it the wrong way. And secondly, I'm the only one who can call my blog "shit" and still mean it to be endearing. Yes, Blog, I love you. I love you dearly. Why? Because you're the thing that keeps me going day to day. Writing. What would I do without you. I type faster than most of my friends and all too many people comment on how fast I can get my thoughts out on here. If I write them down quick enough, I might just remember them all? But, If I wrote down how many times I was thinking about 5 right now...well, that just wouldn't be good enough. It wouldn't be enough.

And what's interrupting me right now? There's a spider. crawling up the wall. and I'm too lazy to kill the thing. But most of all, I don't want to kill it. it's not doing anything to hurt me, it's just standing there. In fact, it might just be watching me. Slowly inching his way closer to the radiator that sits on the other side of me across from the glass table. It's going closer to the ceiling now. Taking a stroll, if you will. He stops. He stares. What is he thinking about? How do I even know he's thinking? Damn those philosophers for getting into my head. Of course the animal is thinking. He must have a brain of some sort, I'm not sure what sort, however. He's so light in color. I've never quite seen one in such a cream color--this spider. He's....getting into my head. ick...enough about that.

This is quite possibly one of the longest blogs I've written in awhile. Why? Because I have a ton of energy. I'm not tired. I'm not thinking too hard about something because everything has just sort of seemed to float out of my consciousness. Anything that mattered. Any of those things that just kept eating away at me: They're gone. I feel very sedated, yet wonderfully sedated. I'm comfortable, comfortable just sitting here. Comfortable just being in my thoughts and knowing that I'm not thinking too much right now. Did you hear that?! I'm NOT thinking too much. Good lord (uh, wait, who?) I'm not thinking too much. There's always something blissful about that. Bliss? hmm...there has to be something better for that...ecstacy? Maybe not yet. Orgasm is ecstacy. Serenity. Bliss. Yes, yes. Serenity. I'm in love with serenity. I breathe serenity. Those morning walks when I'm thinking and figuring out what I'm doing with my life and what's going on in my head? Bliss. The fact that I know what I'm doing and that I'm happy with it?...well that's serenity. (No it's not priceless damn it, do I look like I'm writing a commercial here? sheesh...)

Ugh...school, work, work tomorrow. Nothing's going to be more hell than that. Oh wait. Yes it is. I have to do homework (i.e. what I would also consider another form of work...) when I get home from working at the Lowell Center AND from working at the Gap. At least it's only a few hours at each job. Hell, it's stupid for me to even GO to the Lowell Center tomorrow, but those full-timers gotta have their lunches covered. Ugh...take turns like the rest of the world :-)
Oh well. I only work from 1215 until 6 over the whole span. wait...that's still quite a bit. Oh well...gotta work. Need the money...ugh. No, I don't! I did this to myself. What was I thinking? Added responsibility maybe? Excuses? Who knows. I'm sure I'll be thinking about it (and regretting it all) later. No...no I won't. I love being busy. I love everything about being busy. Fast paced environment. Walking fast. The challenge. The challenge? Oh, where did that come from....who knows, I'm in the writing mood...What am I going to be doing all night? Inspiration baby. And I certainly have it....now.

Over my Head

Oh, I'm so over my head. This feeling. This life. Today is such an alive feeling. I got almost no sleep...went to bed too late and got up too early. But, my head is completely full of clarity. In fact, I feel like I'm breathing in an entirely new set of air. just blissful, soft state of mind. 3am is better for my head to get things out and write it on paper...and this morning, well I wasn't quite in the writing mood persay when I got out of bed. I was only slightly preoccupied with other thoughts. And I've been having an absolutely fabulous day ever since. I feel speechless. I feel like I'm not expressing myself well...this is never a problem for my writing. seriously. writer's block? no. I have all of these ideas in my head, but they're not coming down well. I feel alive. I feel new. I feel rejuvinated. suday's going to be fun. :-)

The Fray

This song is gorgeous and yet...it's perfect for how I feel right now. I'm completely over my head...I'm busy, I'm attempting to be more busy, I keep adding more things into my schedule thinking it will help. Anything, just anything to get my mind off of the past few week's adventures. (One of these days, I swear I'll get to writing a letter to Adam...and post it for the world to see. scary.)

I never knew that everything was falling through
That everyone I knew was waiting on a cue
To turn and run when all I needed was the truth

But that's how it's got to be
It's coming down to nothing more than apathy
I'd rather run the other way than stay and see
The smoke and who's still standing when it clears

And everyone knows I'm in over my head
Over my head
With eight seconds left in over time
She's on your mind she's on your mind

Let's rearrange
I wish you were a stranger I could disengage
Just say that we agree and then never change
Soften a bit until we all just get along

Misunderstand

I love how EVERYONE thinks that my last entry was about how crappy I feel, when really I feel quite liberated. I'm putting that out of my life and moving on...or at least trying to. Stop feeling sorry for me, Stop trying to give me sympathy. I'm seriously not in the mood for anything of that sort and I have more of a backbone that most people would like to admit to.
Most people see leaving behind the past and moving on as a good thing...

Morning Walks

I love my morning contemplation on the way to class. It's seriously good, perhaps i should put a recorder in my brain to remember just what it was? Some mornings I remember a lot of it, like this morning's realization, and other times I know it was "fuckin good" and seem to forget. Damn.

At any rate, this morning's clarity discussion with self resulted in my own personal epiphany. I'm not going to sit around waiting for you, or thinking that you'll change your mind, or thinking you'll come around again. Why? Because, DAMNIT i'm better than that. If you're not going to pay attention to the wonderful woman you had easily within your reach, then it's your own damn fault you let it slip. We, yes WE (not to be confused with YOU as to not be selfish) were perfect. No problems, never a fight, fabulous times together. I loved how you'd beg me not to leave and I'd be hours late getting home as you'd pull me back into bed to lay with you for just 10 minutes more, which ended up being hours more because i just never wanted to leave you either. And yet, the whole thing came crashing down when your irrationality decided that hey, we're going to the SAME college, that can't work. We'd gone to separate schools for how long while I was in high school and you were in college, and yet now that we're going to the SAME school, things just can't work. You'd get upset or down when I would talk about leaving for college and the possibilities of me going to U of MN or Luther College, but when I told you I applied and got accepted to Uof Wisc-Madison, you didn't seem that excited about it. Now, it almost seems as if you had planned our departure upon my leaving for college anyway, without ever telling me that it was only secondary to you. Perhaps I'm heartbroken still and yeah, I still think you're gorgeous and one of the most influential people I've ever met in my life, but I'm also sick of thinking that things could still work.

I'm broken, a but misunderstood, and perhaps full of wishful thinking...but then again, you're probably the only REAL love I've ever felt.

More to Come Soon

The thoughts are entering my mind and I can think of nothing else
I'm stuck, sedated in a mind of thoughts that never go away.