The new generation in the music building knows how to network and I see it happening and it happens to me and it reminds me of another thing I never learned or felt motivated to do.  Its absence takes up space.  I can't sell myself because I have nothing to sell, can't define myself except with no's and not's - things I've never done or things I would never, I refuse to do.  I'm not there but I take up space.

The culture is so nice, here.  Everyone is just really nice.  Supportive.  I am an active member in this, I dunno maybe helped create it.  I'm nice.  I'm like wow you've done something great with this and wow you're doing something great with yourself, which I mean in spite of being afraid it comes from fundamentally a lie.  I believe this culture and also I don't trust it.  I mean someone had the idea that if you think someone is a jerk maybe you should just get to know them to find out the jerk is you.  What if it is the same for nice people - can they be so easily unmasked?  I don't think I want to find out.  I mean someone had the idea that sadness is self-indulgent and self-perpetuating but I say how can you award happiness with superior depth or virtue.  So this culture of nice, I don't trust it but I hear it (amen) and I believe it and I fear it comes from a place of fundamentally a lie.  Cause I'm so busy trying to unlearn this negative space to find the depth in my self-perpetuating identity.

^
I would like to condense this into a sonnet.  It already has the right turns.


a quick dream:
1. I was in a house visiting Andrew and Uwe.  There were huge and steep hills of red clay next to me and I wanted to climb them but no one would come with me. They felt strongly familiar and strongly beckoning, as if I remembered living next to them and knowing them intimately and wanted to go back to feel the strong sensation of remembering.  The sky was very dark like the beginning of a late summer storm, so gray that it was almost green and yellow.
Later in the dream I found myself in the position of taking care of many creatures- nests and cocoons and snails in terrariums.  In particular I had a little slug on my hand, what a little sweetheart.  There were a lot of people in the room, and when it got loud he took it very much to heart and started to shake with nervous violence, and to expand with air pockets the way yeasted dough stretches out.  The little guy was seriously panicking.  I tried to quiet everyone in the room to let them know they were really effecting the creature.  Later when the room was quiet and he was without stimulation for a long time he grew really really small and dark, the tiniest slug you ever saw.