Esther entered either side of the ether of ethics whether they withered or weathered it out.

The baron of Barbary babied his barnacles with barium and buried them by bare barbarians.

He favored the fervor of the faraway father who went further with his favorite farthing.

This is what happens when I try to sleep before my brain is tired enough. Anxiety and assonance jumbled with alliteration.
Note: this post contains a moniker to so I can speak in regard to someone I don't know terribly well without upsetting them(not that it's likely they'd see this).

I had a dream(surprise) regarding me and a girl I've met before. Let's call her Banana Split. I had a dream that she was on her way somewhere, and she had to stop at my place for the night. It was just me there, but I also didn't have a couch, so I just let her sleep on some blankets on the floor. She thanked me and went to sleep.

Banana Split ended up not waking up until late the next afternoon. I asked her when she had to be wherever she needed to be; I was a little concerned she had overslept. She said "no time in particular", and then invited me to come with her. I asked her where, but Split just told me it would take no time, and that we'd be safe. That was enough for me.

We drove, and since it was a dream and driving is usually an unmemorable event unless you add something to it, it was indeed no time until we were there. It was a park, a state forest park of sorts, and it was made mostly of gnarly short oak trees. The black branches wound themselves around and back toward their trunks, creating tunnels and staircases up and down. Banana Split led me into a meadow of sorts with a picnic table and some of her acquaintances, along with some of Sam's friends/acquaintances. It was an adventuring party of some sort. We climbed in, around, over and under trees, drank, had a bonfire in the meadow, drank some more, and climbed to the top and spoke with each other for hours.

I understand that dreams can mean absolutely nothing, but they can also send us valuable messages. That dream wasn't anything spectacular: in fact, it was a rather pleasant dream. But the way I felt when I woke up was another story. It left me very lonely. Obviously I don't take it quite so literally. Though I think Banana Split would make quite a good friend, I would say the probability of that happening in this reality is close to nil. But I think part of the issue is that I have no close female friends. I mostly don't enjoy being around women. I often can't hold a serious conversation around them, or they can't talk about something that doesn't revolve around romance or children, or anything remotely in the "weird" category is too much to handle, or even worse, they try to use it as some kind of label. "Oh, I've played D&D and I read Edgar Allen Poe. Aren't I just so WEIRD/GEEKY/NERDY?" I. Don't. Care. I don't care. It's cool I guess, when it's brought up casually in discussion or something, but those who try too hard often don't succeed.

That being said, there are plenty of times I haven't been able to relate to someone, or I just feel like I'm supposed to say something. It usually ends in me saying something retarded and everyone thinking a little less of me. I was pretty ostracized growing up so you'd think I'd enjoy being alone a little more. I still enjoy being alone actually, when it suits me. But I still don't enjoy being lonely.

Thinking back to the dream, why her? What does Split represent? I think in this case, just many of the qualities I want in a friend which are lacking in many of my other "friends". Sam has a lot of the same qualities, but I think knowing me in the duration that he has gives him a certain bias that he may not be able to overcome, as objective as he claims to be. I often wonder how much she actually knows about me. It also leaves me asking the question: Of which person am I actually jealous?

Sometimes it feels as though I don't actually "keep" friends. I just sort of blow in and out of their lives. A great portion of them I have no special love for. That's fine, fair-weather friends are not a crime. But it's as though I'm lacking any sort of deep connection with any one person. I'm more solitary than I realized, and I'm not sure if that harms or helps my current situation. Even if I were  just reading too much into a dream, the rest of the issue remains.


I'm incredibly sore. Not a terrible feeling though, considering what I'm accomplishing. Plus, I'm getting some badly needed exercise. It's just shocking how much one's state of mind can be altered by the change of view out the window, or by the fact one knows they have enough space to store their things.

I still don't know quite what I'm going through. But for once, I feel somewhat hopeful.


Why is it, that I manage to hate the same illumination responsible for the dingy night sky, when I so depend upon it whenever I fancy a late walk?


attach themselves to anything and everything
knocking limbs without intending or intention
Entanglement, vicious or gentle
is mainly determined by external force
Is a knot an omen, or simply a tangle
is there ever a direct connection for these strings
or merely perceived
One object
will never be close enough
to another
to actually touch it
without binding
and therefore altering the other
unable to separate
damaging each other
in and through
around the opposite's proximity
have no foundation
if you tie one
in on itself
it becomes
an endless
in and of itself
the same of the ones
bound together
yet they become larger
encompass more space
can hold more within them
than can one tied in on itself
and yet
some are longer themselves
than two or more together
and have difficulty
finding an equal
or being more than the whole
are enough for themselves

I can't sleep. Typically when I stay up late, its because I want to stay up late, but I actually kind of want to sleep and my eyes feel glued open. I think I'm just excited about moving, especially after having already stayed here for a night(didn't sleep well last night either). So I'm writing and listening to Red Hot Chili Peppers and Radiohead. Easier to listen to while someone is sleeping behind me than metal.Maybe I should take advantage of the relaxed semi-creative state the whiskey put me into. I've been fairly stable the past couple of days. Minor outbursts really, with no one around to witness them, thankfully. It still happens more when I try to sing. Hopefully I can get that tapered down when I start voice lessons again. I know it's just a relocation, but it does feel like a real change in perception. Hopefully a new chapter in my life.


Yesterday and today have been strange. I guess I'm in moving mode. I'm happy to be getting into another place, something with more room and a nicer setup. But my emotional state has been...off? I don't know. I'm haven't been sad per se, even though I almost broke down earlier. I feel almost disassociated from the people around me. Like I've switched off for the time being. It probably is because of moving, and the semester about to begin again. I need to conserve my energy. Maybe this is a good thing. Or at least for now. It doesn't feel bad, but it doesn't feel particularly good, either. Usually I hold some demeanor in a specific mood. It isn't calm, or serene, or content or happy. But it isn't anguish or sadness or irritation or anything like that either. It's like analog static. It's there, it makes a noise, but it doesn't motivate me to do anything. Maybe I'm just stabilizing. One can only hope.

It seems I think differently when I write on here than in my regular journal. And I write differently in my journal than I do on loose-leaf paper. It's a slightly different me who is writing. Is it because there is a potential audience? Or does it have more to do with the medium? Handwritten versus not, the ability to edit instantly versus using a pen and trying to follow a track that morphs as you write. Could be a melange of things.


I'm a little frightened. I suppose it's still acceptable for me to be in a state of emotional upset from time to time, but I've been rather on edge lately. Thankfully the past couple of days have been fairly mild, but I'm scared of another attack. I don't have them often, thankfully, but I do know that the more often panic attacks come about, the easier is it to experience another. The last time I was in such a state was probably during the time I was taking MIDI, and I was so sure I was going to fail. My fears escalated to the point where I had two attacks and had to leave for the restroom during the class, and then I had two more later that afternoon. I've had others too, though I was too young to recognize what they were at the time. I thought I was done going into perturbing emotional states when I had  left Redding.

Panic attacks are terrifying whether or not you've experienced them before. It's similar to a tsunami. There's an upwelling of emotion just as if you were normally upset. Then it partly subsides as if you were calming down. I'm not sure which kinds of thoughts trigger mine, but that's typically the point where things turn. There's a sense of anticipation, but less like the kind where you're expecting a present and more like the sensation of waiting to hit the water after veering off a bridge. After that is a total loss of emotional control. I would say it's relieving, except you're too terrified that you won't regain control again. You're wallowing in your own despair and confusion, unleashed upon the material world.

I'm not attempting to romanticize this. It's a real concern, one that I hope will not visit me too often. I've experienced enough emptiness in my life to never want to feel it again. I was miserable as a teenager, self-loathing to the point of being slightly disturbed. Some of that followed me into college at Shasta. Having reflected upon it recently, I would not hesitate to say I had some sort of imbalance. Thankfully I have not yet regressed to that level, nor do I want to. But I can't say I haven't been suffering some sort of depressive symptoms for several years. I would never allow myself to be diagnosed with depression unless it was truly chemical depression. Is it possible that I've been suffering from it for so long that I mistook it as a character trait? Still, when out of curiosity you take the common diagnosis evaluation for depression and where severe depression is a 54 and above, and you score a 63, perhaps it warrants at least speaking to a doctor. I always wonder about those evaluations, what the probability is of tailoring your results. I don't know. But I have a decision to make.

I'm a little sad because I'm pretty sure this is from the new Star Trek movie. However- it still struck me with its message. This is probably my biggest fear, the most pressing concern about my life. That I will constantly undercut myself and in return be unable to fulfill my desires in life until I can no longer function. And I know I'm capable of doing just that; it happens all the time. There is no worse self-fulfilling prophecy than that of constant failure. It is so mentally crippling that I think it necessary to constantly seek out validation from others. Especially in regard to singing, where I cannot honestly tell how good or bad I am, and have to use teachers and colleagues as my eyes. When I am by myself, I am wading through pitch in the darkness. It's impossible to tell whether I am making any progress or where I am. It makes me not want to sing at all. I need something more quantifiable.


For some reason I find it somehow "lesser" to admit that I personally identify with the lyrics of a song. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that no two people experience things the same way, so to apply someone else's words to whatever situation it is describing feels like a falsification. I often relate to some parts of a song, but not others. Though is not the purpose of lyrics to express the human emotional spectrum, and to gain a sense of empathy? Why do I attempt to deny it?

There are a few pieces I have found a great deal of likeness to in thought lately. They may be situational, or they may be universal. I won't spoil which are which.

The Dead Skin
by Sonata Arctica

It's me I hate, not you at all
I am my own medicine,
Turned into a poison.

I think I gave you a lot,
And not enough... I know
Tortured myself, same as you,
Without losing my sanity.
Where's my applause?

I see no reason to live in Hell.
How can life make me feel so incomplete?

I had a weakness and my walls came down
My tears won't reach the ground.
Burn my new wound.

I know I cannot feel regret for anything
If I was numb, I'd end this once and for all
I feel the burn, still...

I cannot face this day, my guards are down
I cannot love myself... weak, sad clown.

I see myself, in fading colors,
I see no hope there, where I always used to...

I fear your words, the things they mirror.
Maybe that is all I am, just a reflection... please help me...

I see no reason to live in Hell,
When you smile, you make me feel incomplete.

But it's all ending, the clock's rewinding,
We don't mean anything to me.
You think I killed this silence for us to make things right.
The words are loaded, once connected,
One torso, one head,
One solid reason, the pain!
If love's the neck, kept us together, and apart...
Now it's broken!

There is no cast, no salvation,
When it is broken, it will stay that way,
Believe me when I say this
I would not if I did not care!

Tears don't mean anything, if we don't know when we're sorry.
No one will win today we can't play this game... this way.

We cannot soar and still stay on the ground,
Don't wanna see me, hear me, hate me...

Jealousy's a phantom,
Something that was never, ever meant to find me,
But now its pale green eyes have destroyed everything.

You know how it must hurt, and I know,
There is nothing you've done to deserve this.

Apology's a policy,
Sometimes it really has to be, it's kept me afloat thus far...

This sure nuf's one nice
loose noose, perfect times...
Are we happy in this hell?
Is there someone who can measure,
Whose pain is bigger?

It all has ended, the clock's rewinded.
We don't mean anything to me.
You think I killed this silence for you to end the night.
The words are loaded, unprotected,
One torso, no head,
One valid reason, the life's suspended
If love's the neck that kept us together, and apart...
Now it's broken...

There's no cast, no real solution,
When it is broken, it will stay that way.
Believe me when I say this
I would not if I did not care.

Who needs who, when and what the hell for?
Who wants to suffer and be hardcore?
And who's strong enough to peel off the dead skin?

I cannot face this day, my guards are down...
by Rush

I've got my own moral compass to steer by
A guiding star beats a spirit in the sky
And all the preaching voices -
Empty vessels of dreams so loud
As they move among the crowd
Fools and thieves are well disguised
In the temple and market place

Like a stone in the river
Against the floods of spring
I will quietly resist

Like the willows in the wind
Or the cliffs along the ocean
I will quietly resist

I don't have faith in faith
I don't believe in belief
You can call me faithless
You can call me faithless
But I still cling to hope
And I believe in love
And that's faith enough for me
And that's faith enough for me

I've got my own spirit level for balance
To tell if my choice is leading up or down
And all the shouting voices
Try to throw me off my course
Some by sermon, some by force
Fools and thieves are dangerous
In the temple and market place

Like a forest bows to winter
Beneath the deep white silence
I will quietly resist

I don't have faith in faith
I don't believe in belief
You can call me faithless
You can call me faithless
But I still cling to hope
And I believe in love
And that's faith enough for me
And that's faith enough for me

Like a flower in the desert
That only blooms at night
I will quietly resist

I don't have faith in faith
I don't believe in belief
You can call me faithless
But I still cling to hope
And I believe in love
And that's faith enough for me
And that's faith enough for me

And that's faith enough for me
This last one is from an art song by Alma Mahler, though 
the lyrics are by an 18th century poet who went by the pen name Novalis. 
And I swear I will sing this one day.

Few know
The secret of love,
Feel  unquenchable
Eternal thirst.
[Holy] communion's 
Innermost sense
Remains a secret to us mere mortals;
But who ever 
sucked in the breath of life
From hot, beloved lips,
Whom holy scorching waves
Tremblingly melted the heart,
Who with suddenly seeing eyes,
Divined heaven's 
immeasurable depth,
Will eat from His body
Will drink from His blood

Who has fathomed the essential meaning 
of  our earthly flesh?
Who can tell,
that he understands the blood?
Once all is flesh,
One flesh,
In heavenly blood
Floats the blessed couple.

O! That the ocean
would blush
And in fragrant skin
Would upwell the rock!
Never would end the sweet delecting,
Never be saturated the love;
Not close enough, not intimate enough
Can she have the beloved.
By ever more tender lips
The relished will grow 
more and more to the heart.

Hotter lust 
Trembles through the soul,
More thirsty and hungry
Becomes the heart:
And so persists love's indulgence/pleasure
From eternity to eternity.
If only once would the sober-minded 
Have a taste,
They would gladly leave everything behind,
And sit and dine with us
From the table of longing
Which never empties.
They would recognize love's
Immeasurable fullness,
And praise the nourishment
Of flesh and blood.


Somewhere along the line, I stopped trying to consider my dreams as achievable in reality.  It became more of an alternate reality, wherein I made a hypothetical situation that whatever I wanted to happen did happen. But when I let the stress of my temporary situation take over somewhere down the line, I stopped planning for the future. And not necessarily my career, but everything I wanted for my life. I began to take "one day at a time" too literally. What is one to do when she wants to be the Most Interesting Woman in the World, but has neither the funds nor the education in which to do it? I would like to say I'm tenacious, but that reeks of bravado at this point. I want to have impact. I want my life to have meaning. But in which ways? I find myself floundering. I have already determined which ways I can have a niche in music. I've already somewhere abandoned the idea of becoming a professional opera singer( or "star", whatever). But I would love to find singing work in the metal scene or the video game scene. I've begun painting again, though I'm not sure that will lead anywhere. I think it would require more courses for me to become any good, and even so it may be more for my own peace of mind over anything.

I know I'm following a bad business model by comparing myself with someone else, but this concern partly arose after hearing about someone else's "bucket list". I realized none of my desires had been organized into any sort of achievable goal. They just sort of drift along, half-conceived, not even written down so that I might turn any of them into a reality. I think I will make a dream list. A list of everything, anything I might want to do in life, and then narrow it down to things which are possible in my life. Now let's see...

Dream List
-Write a major work of fiction
-Write a libretto for an opera
-Receive a PhD(NOT in music)
-keep a garden
-Visit these countries: Japan, China(mostly the forested areas), India, Finland, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Germany, France, Bulgaria, Greece, Scotland, Ireland, Iceland, New Zealand, Canada, Argentina, Chile, Peru, Croatia, and others yet to be determined.
-Buy a cottage by the ocean, likely in Northern California or Oregon or somewhere just as cool.
-Sing a title role for a national/international opera company
-Visit/climb some portion of the Himalayas
-Hike the entirety of the Pacific Crest trail
-Hike the entirety of Lassen Volcanic Park
-Visit the Piltvice Lakes of Croatia
-Read The Divine Comedy, The Inferno, and the Purgatorio in Italian and English
-Read Faust in German and English
-Read The Canterbury Tales
-Be responsible for a scientific discovery
-Master at least ONE language instead of stumbling around in six different ones
-Find Bigfoot if he's actually a thing that exists
-voice a cartoon
-sing for a video game soundtrack
-sing as a guest for a metal band(a good one)
-tour with a metal band
-make a trip into outer space
-live outside of the US for at least one year
-be considered someone's mentor
-take an ayahuasca journey or otherwise achieve a dimethyl-tryptamine-induced state
-Go spelunking at least twice
-Find the gumption to dive Blue Hole in Belize
-Sail across an entire ocean
-Witness a volcanic explosion
-Walk from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic Ocean, or vice versa
-Make a scuba trip to The Great Reef
-Make a submarine ocean expedition
-Hike the Rocky Mountains
-Hike all the mountains ever
-Live with entirely "sustainable" technology

That's all for now, though I'm certain there's more to come later....yet it is quite a mental breath of fresh air.

On another note, I still have the issue of caring too much about what others think, especially those I consider close to me. It's an incredible drain which does nothing except to cause me worry and to waste my time and energy. I feel like I'm spending my life to wait for someone to get up and begin their life before I can do whatever I'm going to do. I should be pushing myself, no one else. If I'm bored, I shouldn't expect others to entertain me. I should be doing something for me.

I'm also at an awkward point where I'm finishing a degree in something which I feel no longer applies to me as much as it used to. If I can buckle down though, I'll at least have a Bachelors, even if I have to go back for another one. A degree is a degree, and may at least help me get office work or an expected wage if I'm hired within that field.

My life is itchy at the moment. Uncomfortable at best; I'm hurrying up to wait. I don't know what to prioritize. I need a car before I can move my life anywhere in my own direction, but I think that goal is a bit closer to reality. I'm still in awful dental health; do I try to time getting my damaged teeth removed so that I know I'll have money for new ones? That will take a long time. Or do I get them removed ASAP for my health's sake, and hope I can pony up money for new teeth before the bone structure in my mouth moves too much? I'm in awful debt otherwise. I wish I didn't need to do so much this year as well, or I'd be able to better prepare for when I need to be responsible for all of my income.

I'm still in dire emotional straits. I don't even like thinking about that one. It would certainly be easier if I weren't possessive or jealous of other people's traits or more open to sharing myself regardless of criticism or secure in myself(which may be the root of all of it).

Someday I'd like this blog to be about something more interesting than the ways I feel about stuff. You know...things people take interest in. Like the things on my list.