Thursday, April 16, 2009

Better late than never.

I always have the best of intentions. On the other hand, I am a self-proclaimed procrastinator. I will admit it--I am too lazy, too distracted, too scared, too awkward, too [insert other excuse here] to do most of the things that I really intend to do, for better or for worse.

That being said, this post was meant to be my Easter special. (I even put it on a jump drive and carried it across the country with me. See? Intentions.) I was too thoroughly distracted by nature and new friends to take the time (all three seconds of it) to copy and paste this from its Word document into my blog. Oh well, better late than never. So Happy Late Easter and all that jazz.

Finding God in a Smudged Mirror

The auditorium heaved with bodies in motion—swaying to the music that reverberated off the walls, pulsing with the rhythmic chant emanating from the chest of the man that stood at the center of it all.

Her hands were raised, palms up, elbows perpendicular to the stained red carpet. As she swayed, her body collided with others, moving to the beat that guided them.

A seventeen year-old boy with cropped blond hair, zits and freckles grabbed her right hand with his left and laid his right palm on her forehead.

“Hummanah nah nah, groudy hagh gah ress ka la.” The meaning of these words were unclear to anyone that heard them, but the intention was obvious. Tears rolled out of her eyelids, darkening her otherwise pale cheeks with black, soot-like mascara.

“Oh yes, God. I hear You, Lord. I open the eyes of my heart.” With that her knees began to wobble and she bobbed up and down, fighting the urge to fall. Another man came to her and placed one hand on the crown of her head and another at the small of her back.

“Creday dumu lolo crea. Gloor belave foregod Jeremiah.” Another set of hands found her head and her right shoulder. Her body went rigid as her hands dropped to her sides, palms facing forward. The chanting gained intensity.

“Doublay doo karmakarm goddar creday dumu lolo hummanah!” She felt the blood leaving her head and rushing to her extremities and then back again. Her body tingled and she shuddered violently.

“Rah sah sah goor, rah sah sah groudy hagh!” Her eyes rolled into her head as another hand touched her diaphragm.

“Gray may Yahweh juisay gloor belave!” Fireworks exploded in her ears as her body quivered and fell. The eight hands lowered her to the ground slowly, where she lay panting.

Years later she would experience this feeling repeatedly as her various lovers licked her cunt till she came. “Oh god, oh my god,” she would cry out as her hand pushed against the headboard and her body writhed with pleasure.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009


When I was 18 I escaped to Europe under the cover of night. I landed in rainy London at eight in the morning without a friend, a plan, or a direction to walk in. I spent my backpacking time perpetually lost and in doing so, found what I had been looking for all along: myself.

I've spent the past few months lost, confused and without direction. I got bogged down in the mire that is New York City. I spent Monday through Friday at a job I hate. I spent my evenings drinking whiskey-gingers in a constant rotation of bars where I have come to recognize the regulars by face and name. I spent my weekends hiding in my bedroom from the life I should be living, but haven't had the resolve to obtain.

Getting the hell out of New York last week reminded me that there are other options out there. I may not be starting law school in the fall, but rather than wallowing (which is what I have been doing, woe-is-me), I should be looking for way to spend this next year being productive and happy. I think the first step towards this is finding a new job, whether that job is in NYC, Boston, Seattle or anywhere else in the world that I can be gainfully employed and contented. I think that is enough of a goal to tackle for now. I know that if I set too many goals for myself I am going to get overwhelmed and give up. Baby steps, right?