5.01 - All Fall Down
"Clinical psychology. The branch of psychology that studies and treats emotional or behavioral disorders, especially in abnormal mentation."
My bedroom in The Tower turns green in the late afternoon. As sunlight splays through the paper thin curtains, the whole room is cast in a limelight. I especially notice this when I'm drifting between awake and asleep, as I was this afternoon. Consulting the clock, I debated whether I should rise and go to the last Senate meeting of the semester. A moment of groggy thought later, I rolled over and fell back to sleep.
My dreams were the usual nonsense, but they managed to effectively sum up all the crises and stresses salient in my life at the moment. Passing calculus, I'm on the border and just need to cross over. Getting through S&P. Senate elections. The whole GAP fiasco. Maritza. Dick. Liz. Dixie and the life she left behind. James. Leigh. Annie. The bloody hell of Meadville. Summer courses at Pitt, getting a car and license, paying for gas without a straight job. Cleaning my apartment, moving to the new apartment. Falling in love without screwing it up. And the latest question which has stirred me to my center: Do I want to be Arthur Wenzel anymore?
Most of the people in my life seem to be on the rocks in some regard and I'm feeling a little lost as a result. Feeling lost has also cooled my fire. I'm losing that drive which makes me care. ASG, GAP, I've tried to change things and I hate constantly being the one pawing at the status quo. It doesn't make me popular, I'm more notorious than anything. So why do it? Until I have some concrete answer, I'm not going to.
My goal right now is simply to get to May 2. Last day of classes. ASG Banquet. My middle school kids program. If I can get there, I can get to the summer. Once I get to the summer, I'll have a whole new panoply of material to discuss as I wander back along the corridors of my life, into that dark room where the vestiges of The Brain endure, wondering if it might be time to don the old cap and cape.
We'll see.
My bedroom in The Tower turns green in the late afternoon. As sunlight splays through the paper thin curtains, the whole room is cast in a limelight. I especially notice this when I'm drifting between awake and asleep, as I was this afternoon. Consulting the clock, I debated whether I should rise and go to the last Senate meeting of the semester. A moment of groggy thought later, I rolled over and fell back to sleep.
My dreams were the usual nonsense, but they managed to effectively sum up all the crises and stresses salient in my life at the moment. Passing calculus, I'm on the border and just need to cross over. Getting through S&P. Senate elections. The whole GAP fiasco. Maritza. Dick. Liz. Dixie and the life she left behind. James. Leigh. Annie. The bloody hell of Meadville. Summer courses at Pitt, getting a car and license, paying for gas without a straight job. Cleaning my apartment, moving to the new apartment. Falling in love without screwing it up. And the latest question which has stirred me to my center: Do I want to be Arthur Wenzel anymore?
Most of the people in my life seem to be on the rocks in some regard and I'm feeling a little lost as a result. Feeling lost has also cooled my fire. I'm losing that drive which makes me care. ASG, GAP, I've tried to change things and I hate constantly being the one pawing at the status quo. It doesn't make me popular, I'm more notorious than anything. So why do it? Until I have some concrete answer, I'm not going to.
My goal right now is simply to get to May 2. Last day of classes. ASG Banquet. My middle school kids program. If I can get there, I can get to the summer. Once I get to the summer, I'll have a whole new panoply of material to discuss as I wander back along the corridors of my life, into that dark room where the vestiges of The Brain endure, wondering if it might be time to don the old cap and cape.
We'll see.