dust in the wind
april 17th, 2000

i don't know why i let things bother me so much. why i come across things 
and i read them and sometimes i get angry and sometimes i cry and i shake 
my head and then question my own sanity and then feel guilty all in the 
span of seven minutes. but it does become more and more clear to me that 
murfreesboro is the *last* place on the earth i need to be. i suppose it's 
just the happy little roadsigns the universe keeps sticking in the way for 
me. lighthouses. something to guide the way. i simply wish i could 
amputate myself from that entire era of my life, save for Aisling, of 
course, and a few of the friends i collected there. i suppose these echoes 
trouble me because they remind me so vividly who i was, and how much i 
hated the person i became in murfreesboro. or maybe it's just my inherent 
fear of being wrong. there's always that little voice in the back of my 
head whispering, what if you have been overreacting, what if you are 
really the horrible bitch they all believe you are, what if you've not 
done nearly enough to make things easier for all parties involved, what if 
it all really is your fault? i know better, i litter my life with facts 
and recorded conversations and confirmations, but it still doesn't kill 
those little voices of doubt. and at times like that i just want to curl 
up deep inside of myself and cry for a very long time for ever letting 
anything so immense and chaotic into my life. and i pray for the 
midichlorians. but i suppose i'll know the 12th of next month, or at least 
be on my way to knowing.

i've really had a wonderful weekend, and i am hoping that tonight's 
readings will simply be washed away by everything else. my brother came 
down to visit, and we had a nice and wonderful long talk about everything 
and anything that we haven't had in such a long time. i adore my brother, 
but he is as much of an internet junkie as i am, so usually his weekend 
visitations consist of me sitting on the couch playing with my little one 
and half-talking to him while he plays me mp3s and tracks off of cds he 
just bought. but this weekend we sat in his room and laughed and talked 
about sex, drugs, and rock and roll - all of those important teenage 
subjects - and i spruced up his website a bit for him, and it was just 
great. and he took great pleasure in helping mom look for an apartment in 
raleigh (where she is moving) and finding a new car (as my mother's 10 
year old daytona is seeing his last few months, i am afraid.) and then he 
cleaned out my car completely (which has not been even slightly touched 
since my spring break episodes a few months ago) even the trunk (which was 
still home to the charcoal portfolio from my drawing class my third 
semester of college.) my brother is an absolute sweetheart. i went out 
saturday night and rented movies for him, romeo and juliet, and SLC punk 
(which is a wonderous film, actually) and we sat and watched movies and 
played with the baby, and it was just simple, and great, and a break from 
the internet, which i've needed for quite some time (i am completely 
revamping my site and moving it, and i promise i will unveil it shortly.)

and there was something else that cheered me up quite tremendously, too. 
back when i was living in greeneville, there was a girl living next door 
about my brother's age who used to always come over and play with us. and 
since she started visiting when i was about the age of eleven or twelve, i 
would weave elaborate imaginary stories for us to act out and play in, 
with our broken down bicycles and maple limbs and any other props we could 
find, at the time having a great deal to do with vampires, actually. i 
always had a great fondness for this girl, and even when i we had all 
"outgrown" the fighting with sticks in the front yard stage, there was 
always music and thoughts and ideas to be shared, even if only for a 
moment. she's in high school now, the same high school that i felt 
completely and totally alone at for most of my teenage life. that nowhere 
high school. and i ran across her website yesterday, the one that she 
shares with a friend of hers. i was amazed. every single lesson i would 
have liked for her to learn she carried with her, shunning drugs, and 
stupidity, and welcoming poetry, creation, art, absurdity. there is even a 
tribute to matthew shepard located on the page, something that is totally 
unheard of in greeneville, defending the rights of those "damn queers." i 
was so impressed. so very impressed. and i couldn't help but feel a sense 
of pride, as if somehow my "fledglings" are out now and growing wings of 
their own. i mean, i know that i can only take credit for a small amount 
of what she has become, but it still is the most amazing feeling.

and it makes me feel a lot better about moving to greeneville (which is 
where i am going, and i will further elaborate on that in my next entry.) 
i suppose i carry some weird fantasy in my head that i will end up being 
the "george bailey" of mosheim, and transform what was once a backwards 
town into an intellectual and artistic utopia up in the mountains of east 
tennessee. an impossible dream, but i think we all have those.

there is definitely something left for me to do there. all signs point 
east. for whatever reason, this is definitely where the universe wants me 
to be. but more on that later. at the moment, my mother wishes to wrestle 
the computer from me for more, important, job-like stuff. so i am gone.