POed

Today I locked my door for the first time at Middlebury College.  Here’s why: I’ve had two items stolen in the past week – a new 80GB iPod and an expensive watch I saved up for over this past summer.  Today I noticed my watch was missing.  I had a dream that I was wearing my watch and sleeping last night, so when I woke up, I checked to see where it was.  I guess that says something about our subconscious… After looking for a while (about 2 hours), I concluded it was stolen.  I got pissed.  I ripped my absentee ballot, the editing exercise we did in class with the big sheet of paper (something I probably could have used today), I played loud music, I yelled Fuck about 30 times, and slammed drawers and shoes as hard as I could.  When pissed off, the worst thing you can do is get in a car.  So I got in my car, played music that hopefully would ease my mood, and sped fast and slowed down depending on the thoughts I was having.  Now, in the final stages of being angry, I am completely calm, but still shaking. 

Something wierd

I don’t like writing first sentences.  First sentences constrain me for some reason.  They make my writing go in one direction – the direction of the sentence, they don’t allow me to write about everything that there is.  I like to imagine writing a piece in many ways, with more than one first sentence.  

100 words

Streeeetch.  My moms voice is familiar, telling me to start a new day.  I get up, hold my arms close to my body, and then point them in different directions – eventually ending above my head.  I stand on my toes.  I crack every bone in my body.  I make them loose.  My ears crack, wind comes in and out, the sound in and out.  It is hollow, loud.  I yawn.  I make my last lazy sound – time for real noise.  My muscles are tense then relaxed.  It’s time for them to move.  I shake and make the ground exist.