Lunch hour. I can never fill an hour. Thus, I have created a blog. That isn't really the reason why I created this thing- writing has lacked substance lately, so a 'diary' helps. Sorry, blog- that just sounds like some sort of glutinous mass.
Anyways, I think I'm a cross between a poet and a storyteller. I was in a fiction class last semester and struggled past 5 pages; I am more inspired by crisp distinct words than by complex plots (but don't get me wrong, I do admire people who can twist those elaborate things together). Since I have been working full time, the creative juices have lacked. Going home for a week excited ideas once again, but, now back in Cambridge, I've returned to my rut.
Last year it was easy, I was in a class at the Lawrenceville School (a secluded prep school in NJ near Princeton) and I sat down every day to write, and pour out thoughts, feelings, weird ideas and mental wanderings. Great poetry and images came of that stuff, I gave birth to new beings, and discovered myself in my children. It was only when my fingers raced along the key board, too fast for my mind to keep up, that I was able to let things out. Lewd, dark secrets, philosophical thoughts, wild images of purple monkeys (recurring).
This is good, I can feel things starting to bubble.
Today was one of those beautiful summer days that I've never experienced anywhere else but in Cambridge,MA; sunny and hot with a chilling breeze. Ideal. It was nice to walk home from work in such good weather. I find it quite amazing how I can just pick up and leave work behind when 5pm rolls around. It's as if 9 to 5 is some sort of solid block of time that doesn't secrete any liquid whatsoever, doesn't contaminate the rest of my hours.
The Internet has been down for 4 days here at the Coop (I am writing from the communal computer). This lapse in superhighway access has left me with more time for thinking, reading and TV. It truly is amazing how much we rely on electronics: lights, some appliances, TV, computer and on and on. Power failures will be devastating in the future- children reduced to absolute boredom, hydrogen cars sputtered to a halt, and people staring at each other speechless, blinking. I sent a letter to computer services asking them to fix things already, people are getting frustrated.
I've been going to the gym 5 days a week starting this summer and have seen some results. While I feel healthier and a bit more toned, my muscles still lack that bulk I see so often on other guys. You know, the quasi-heman toned body boy type. The fit-ness seems to come with a certain attitude too... a vain confidence that you've got it all. I've always had this theory that certain people have certain body structures. So, no matter how much they work out, their shape will always be a certain way. So I think I'll always be a bit of a slim guy, no ideal inverted triangle for this one. It's much the way how I'll always be 'cute' and not 'hot'... but I'm cool with that. It's nice to stay in shape but also important to stay within the realm of Stefan (aka you).
That's what it comes down to a lot of the time, just being you, confident and strong. Hoky I know. I think today will be hoky-day. But hell cliches are fine by me. They weren't always. Fall in that pit call love and cliches start to make sense, some sort of parallel universe. Even long distance relationships can survive for a little while (1.5months)- all you need is a few moments where two collide. Hear that, that's the orchestral music for my monologue, it's getting sappy. Truly, love is not describable when it happens- there are these moments that you can tell to other (5 hours felt like 5 minutes, he went swimming in the Delaware) that just won't make sense, but they'll make you smile and warm you in a way you haven't known before. There's also that feeling that your heart just expanded to the size of your chest and you've been launched into the air, balancing on a cloud. It's a nice feeling. Distance tears that apart after too long, you forget what your lover looks like, how he reacts, his body language etc. etc. I'm putting things on hold on the romantic level... emotional lay-away. I know things could ignite again.
There's a bucket full of my life
Drink up laddy,