my summer job: i sit in front of a computer, staring at the blaring white screen as it begins to suck my soul from my body as endless numbers of errors flood the window, and i sit… rather powerless to do anything because i don’t understand the physics or math or anything regarding the code… nor do i remember how to code… so i sit… but i get a fleet of high school minions i get to command in a couple weeks, though unfortunately they aren’t allowed to work on my project with all the errors, i’m just supervising their lame project and telling them what to do… so i sit… and stare at errors until one of my bosses comes up with a solution. and then he goes home. and another flood of errors come up. and i sit and write poetry for my scientific presentation because i have nothing better to do. and i sit i begin to realize how content i was when i was helping a friend landscape and babysit and housesit for him and he paid me food…

my summer life: i sit and watch lost, becoming ever so annoyed with john locke’s pretension and self-centeredness. i contemplate the exact meaning of the show… that indeed… nothing will be all right in the end. and that all we can hope for is that maybe we can actually run away from what we want. but i don’t run, so i sit. i sit and watch the screen play pictures in front of my eyes. and i see a diving bell, and a butterfly. i see my mind limited by the darjeeling circling my head. and i see nothing. but i sit anyway. sit amongst friends doing nothing in particular, but ponder. and so we spend our days pondering the future as we have reached this cliff-edge, as we venture off into the world, as the future comes to engulf us and destroy us and our standings. and we reminisce, reminisce of the old days of teeter-totters and swings, of physical teeter-totters and swings and none of the emotional ones so indicative of high school dramas that have littered our lives for the last four years. so we ponder and we reminisce, but alas, all we do is sit.

and alas i break free. and i lie on the grass staring up at the stars and notice the infinitesimal futility of our existence and wonder at the stars, seeing in them the past, seeing in them the eyes of those thousands of years ago gazing at these same stars, seeing in them the eyes of those thousands of years from now gazing into the sky hoping for the future. seeing in them the past and the future. seeing in the all space through all time. and so i lie and gaze at the stars that gently lull me to sleep. until finally, the pictures frame-by-frame play before my eyes and i see inside me. and i see all my hopes and all my fears play beneath my eyelids. so that finally, just maybe, that unconscious mind and that conscious mind may meet and join, so that consciousness find unconsciousness.

and so i lay.

and so i fade.