ambitions of being a walking double negative, plus uncensored word-painting

I was struck with a really interesting thought process earlier.

Today, my accomplishments could best be measured (okay, I definitely almost split another infinitive, and I definitely caught it, again.) ...anyway, measured in terms of what I did not do, rather than what I did do.

Today, I didn't watch all three episodes of ST:TNG. I only watched two. In fact, I didn't even watch the 2am one. I didn't insist on my boycott of Denny's on account of their abolition of the smoking section. I didn't need that much help handling business at Job Deux. And most importantly, I didn't back down from my assertion that I was going to empty out my MySpace profile and never look back. So maybe I posted a bulletin explaining my departure. I think that's allowed.

I didn't surrender to porn surfing after I got home from hanging out. I instead listened to some music, and then picked up my guitar and gave it a bit of exercise. And now, I am blogging. And I haven't picked the same playlist to which I've been listening nonstop these past couple of days; I picked an album I've never listened to before.

Come to think of it, today's been really unusual, and I can't think of a good reason for that. At all.

I suppose I should do a little catching up, to cover the time between my last entry. God, I don't even remember what my last entry was about. Okay.. turns out it was a screen capture from a MySpace bulletin I posted. Wow.

Well, in short: I cut my hair. I was interviewed and hired at Signius Communications, where I answer phones for a variety of different people. Shelly had no small role in getting me considered for the position, for which I'm quite grateful. I've been training these past couple weeks, and honestly, I think everything's going to be fine.

I went on the camping trip, which was absolutely fantastic. The pictures are up and they are also fantastic. It was a fitting vacation, and it was most definitely the kind I'd been sorely needing.

Speaking of the camping trip, I have to go out to my car, and dig up my sketchbook. I did some writing out on a pier, the night we ended up leaving, and while it's raw material and I made no efforts to refine it whatsoever, at the time it satisfied my need for self-expression. And so, without further ado:


I am the full moon.
I am the lone headlights, a mile away, on a bridge.
I am this glass lake, a bay on one side, and a raging river on the other.
I am the barely perceptible breeze.
I am the call of all these unfamiliar birds, and the owl punctuating them.
The shadow on this page falls in a peculiar fashion.
These occasional moments of solitude remind me just how alone I am not.
The only sounds I can hear are the ones that speak to me.
The ones that reassure me there's more to life than seeking potentially lucrative uphill battles.
Wherever the storm, all the rain will eventually return to the sea.
I am far better at painting with words, or with light, than with a brush.


And it's amazing, how an hour can turn a glass lake into a maelstrom. A bunch of us were playing cards in our screened-in room, well after quiet time because, shit. It was our last night there. We didn't care about noise, plus everyone else had RVs that likely insulated sound. Anyway, we were playing cards, and two storms blew in simultaneously; one down the Potomac, and one down the bay. There was no rain, only lots of lightning.

Jason, Francis, and myself all decided to walk out onto the causeway so we could watch the storm roll over the bay. Keep in mind, where we were, the bay was about 30 miles wide, so we still had an unobstructed view of the one storm from our relatively safe intended vantage point. On the walk over there, the wind started to pick up like we couldn't believe. After getting slightly lost in the woods, we finally got out to the causeway.

The lightning was like the grand finale at any Fourth of July fireworks show you've ever been to, except it didn't end. You could read by it. Every half-second, another massive lightning bolt shot down to the water, illuminating the massive wall of fog forming on the horizon. It was unlike anything I've ever experienced.

Only moments after we arrived, that glass lake was spitting waves about six or seven feet beyond its usual shoreline, starting to lightly flood the roadway on which we stood. And only moments after that, a van full of our compadres rolled up, and informed us the wind was destroying our campsite. We returned, and found all the pop tents nearly collapsed, and the screened-in room reduced to a heap of metal and mesh. (My complicated-ass tent was the only one that survived the 60mph winds with no problem.) After determining the tents to be uninhabitable, and getting a weather report from someone back home stating the storm was supposed to get worse, we haphazardly broke camp and left, at 2:20AM.

The peaceful, idyllic trip ended in a clusterfuck of wind, lightning, and chaos. And that was about as beautiful as the rest of the trip, in its own strange way.

I think with that, I'm going to bed. Chances are, most people reading this have already heard this story anyway, but I don't think I've written it out before. I feel like I've accomplished something. Bonsoir,

(DB) out.