(no subject)
So, I'm sitting in that library again, supposedly researching internships. I helped a lady (Mary Jones) with her city council campaign yesterday(stood outside the voting booths, handed out flyers, and did as much convincing as I can in 5 words.) And now I want to write here an entry from my other journal that I started 3 weeks ago.
Sept. 29
So this is resume day. And I really like the pen impressions on this page. Yeah, I've been putting off the resume until today. So, I've been wondering if I'm crazy again. Some people say that wondering about it(bringing it into question) shows that I'm not crazy. Well, I also wonder if I'm sane, What does that mean? ( P.S. I thought about all this between the thoughts: "I should journal" and "I have a pen; I wonder what todays date is?" Today's date. When I was being interviewed by Dean Hartman; he asked me what todays date was.(thought I'd been living in the woods and consequently or pre-consequence gone insane) This feels like my most muddled and changing entry yet. I've only had two, but I'm thinking of everything I write in this notebook as a chronicle of my life. I don't know why, but it feels like romantics. Oh, Now I remember what I wanted to write(thought about) as I was writing the sentence up there that starts with: "this feels". I was thinking then, that in a book I read, Luke Skywalker was meeting a long presumed dead Jedi Master. His conversation(the Jedi Master's) felt to Luke like he was drifing in sand. And Luke thought that he(the man)(the Jedi Master) must have been insane. That's how I felt earlier; I felt like I was on both sides of that conversation, and drifting nonetheless. I just remembered something; the last time I journaled; I thought: "I'm taking less time to write another journal, soon I'll be doing it everyday. But, I might as well ease into it. I'll journal again in about 3 days, on Thurs. the 29." Then I forgot about it; and here I am, journaling. Phone rings. So, I'm lonely that's why I called Joel and Allison last night. Maybe I should call Ellison. She's closer we could hang out. I want to pick flowers, and I want to say, "This is Brian Fluker, and I'm signing out!" and mean it. But I have no superior officers to report to, balderdash. I left college to drift and be lonely, and know that it's allright; it's all right to be with people too; it's all right to be me. That's what I'm finding out, THE HARDWAY
Sept. 29
So this is resume day. And I really like the pen impressions on this page. Yeah, I've been putting off the resume until today. So, I've been wondering if I'm crazy again. Some people say that wondering about it(bringing it into question) shows that I'm not crazy. Well, I also wonder if I'm sane, What does that mean? ( P.S. I thought about all this between the thoughts: "I should journal" and "I have a pen; I wonder what todays date is?" Today's date. When I was being interviewed by Dean Hartman; he asked me what todays date was.(thought I'd been living in the woods and consequently or pre-consequence gone insane) This feels like my most muddled and changing entry yet. I've only had two, but I'm thinking of everything I write in this notebook as a chronicle of my life. I don't know why, but it feels like romantics. Oh, Now I remember what I wanted to write(thought about) as I was writing the sentence up there that starts with: "this feels". I was thinking then, that in a book I read, Luke Skywalker was meeting a long presumed dead Jedi Master. His conversation(the Jedi Master's) felt to Luke like he was drifing in sand. And Luke thought that he(the man)(the Jedi Master) must have been insane. That's how I felt earlier; I felt like I was on both sides of that conversation, and drifting nonetheless. I just remembered something; the last time I journaled; I thought: "I'm taking less time to write another journal, soon I'll be doing it everyday. But, I might as well ease into it. I'll journal again in about 3 days, on Thurs. the 29." Then I forgot about it; and here I am, journaling. Phone rings. So, I'm lonely that's why I called Joel and Allison last night. Maybe I should call Ellison. She's closer we could hang out. I want to pick flowers, and I want to say, "This is Brian Fluker, and I'm signing out!" and mean it. But I have no superior officers to report to, balderdash. I left college to drift and be lonely, and know that it's allright; it's all right to be with people too; it's all right to be me. That's what I'm finding out, THE HARDWAY