scratch where it itches

Tonight I went to a drive-in theatre with cool peoples. I was going to study. Precisely when I most needed an out from solitary study, one appeared. It was the best part of my Sabbath/Saturday.

Thanks for the invite, Trina.

overwhelmed by possibility, underwhelmed by ability

for as long as i can remember, i have been a dreamer. the idea that there exists a realm of possibility, where the only limitation is the breadth and depth of the imagination, captivates me down to the grit at the bottom of my soul. and for just as long as i have been a dreamer, there has been an immense, untraversable gap between the reality in which i find myself, and the kingdom of could-be.

when i overheard someone ask how time is viewed, my imagination immediately took off. for me, the essence of time is an enormous tree, whose seemingly fractal network of branches have no end. we may be born at the trunk, but the bulk of life is spent in the branches; there is only movement upward, and as there are an infinite number of possible destinations, so there is an infinite number of decisions to be made at every split in the branches.

the scariest part for me, is the no-do-over of every decision; to decide inevitably involves forsaking some immediate possibilities. it comes at no surprise, then, that i am at best indecisive, and at my worst...well, i guess, really indecisive.

(don't worry, there is a point to all the existential fluff)

i find myself at a fork with many branches about next year. i was (and still am) really excited about going abroad to france to learn french. there is also the opportunity to apply to study in the middle east and pick up some arabic. i think, however, i have heard God whispering in my ear about next year, that maybe i should be a SM. in truth, the last few days have been sort of strange, feeling like i am pulled in all directions, but really in none at all. i would be a fool to refuse God (if it is his voice i hear). how do i come to terms with putting off/canceling my plans, even though they were at best tentative?

as i am writing this, i am realizing the foolhardiness of praying for guidance and purpose and then considering not heeding the rustling of God in my heart. maybe i have already answered my own question.

the sky was blue today
the kind of deep blue that seeps in the cracks of the mind
and makes the soul hum with possibility
and the heart drift in melodies
of songs yet unsung

to stare so deeply that the
trees in periphery silently dissolve
slinking stealthily into nothing
without blinking until the eyes seem to drown
but i dare not close them

for that moment the blue measures
the infinity of God
(MN)

hammer and sickle, whoop-dee-doo.

i am not sure when i became such a capitalization communist. [shout: equality among letters, bigger's not better] i realize that is crummy grammar, but it is kinda catchy. it is most likely a phase that will fade into obscurity, given enough time. until then, bear with my tyrannical reign over miniscules and miniscules alone.

wow. i managed to write an entire paragraph devoid of any meaningful content. kudos, phil.

it occurred to me today, pretty much no one reads my blog. while any written material finds its highest potential in being read, i think i can be content to write for my own benefit. so, the current news. umm.

oh. i love scrabble. it's a great game. my roomate and i, along with various other persons, have elevated the game to a near-obsession. i think my record is 5 and 4, i have really not been playing well these last few games. which leads me to something that i have been discovering about myself. i realized that when it comes to things that i am not good at naturally, i have no interest or motivation to become better; in fact, i simply give up or avoid the aforementioned thing. some people, when faced with doing something in which they have no particular talent, are motivated by the challenge to learn and succeed. "not i," said the duck. i am a lazy so-and-so (fill in the blank with your favorite pejorative). after the initial shock of realization, it is beginning to annoy me. and annoy me enough to change, or at least give it the old college try (where the heck does that come from anyway?).

two questions and an answer

in my recent pondering, two questions have arisen. and oh, how they plague me with their unansweredness.

1. how does one separate the God-inspired ideas from the human brain noise?

2. how do we reconcile the desire to follow our dreams with the call to be good stewards of our talents, if they seem to lead in opposite directions?

when I figure out suitable answers, i'll be sure and post them.

oh yeah, i almost forgot about the answer. and no, it's not an answer to the above questions.

so when i heard this physics professor says this, it changed my life. well, that's an exaggeration; it did however, change my immediate reality for the better. and i quote,

well, it [being a physics major] really isn't set in stone, you could always switch back, at most losing only a quarter.

i almost hugged him. luckily for him, i was able to control the urge and spare him and myself some embarassment, considering i just met the guy a week or two ago.

simple as hilbert's problems

i have decided that i cannot complain about my social life (or lack thereof). it occured to me that while i would love to believe that i am somehow a victim of circumstance, what it boils down to is how i choose to live and with whom i choose to interact with. i mean, gosh. here's a straw, phil, suck it up. if i was whining about being too tall or perhaps that the sky is always gray, that would be at least moderately acceptable, albeit still complaining and therefore the bane of my existence.

that's a funny juxtaposition of ideas. to hate complaining and find yourself doing it every once in a while. kinda like how i hate washing dishes, but i hate seeing them lay around dirty and so i end up washing them. damn character building.

oh dear. i feel as though cursing has somehow found itself in my vocabulary. there are so many words in the english language, yet there are very few that have the acute poignancy of foul, four-letter words. it probably doesn't help that i think the f-bomb is the funniest curse word ever. i'm likely going to hell. shoot. as opposed to its dirty cousin of four letters. ha, saved myself there.

so it's coming down to the wire. i have approximately 8 weeks to definitively decide my future/academic fate/major. there will be no turning back. its pretty much down to physics/spanish/min in french or spanish/french/min in chemistry. i suppose the mysterious third option--perhaps a major i am not considering--might rear its ugly head. so if any of you who read this have some insight or perhaps a blood tie to miss cleo and her psychic powers, feel free to advise/prophesy/tocar la guitarra--thats bs for the non hispanohablantes.

and i will leave you with this. prophecy is a noun and prophesy is a verb. i didn't know that. i had to look it up. learn something new every day.