I went swimming today. Stayed underwater as long as I could. Did not want to come up, wanted to stay in the shimmering blue water looking at the soundless world through ripples, tiny waves, tinier typhoons refracting light, making the world look like a saturated blue ball of loveliness, a world that I would in theory like to join, but which is so damn pretty just to watch.
Rebecca was here. Notice the past tense nature of that sentance. She is gone. But it was so fun seeing her for the brief period I did. She has given me a little adrenaline rush, renewed my optimism for life, for people.
Tonight I went and saw Ken Silverman's documentary about his trip to a Japanese internment camp. It was fucking amazing. I went there, honestly expecting to not be impressed. But it was so wow - it made me so happy - reminded me that there is a capacity for greatness here. That not everyone here is as uninspired as I think they are - that life is still possible - that some people actually are capable of creating shit, meaningful shit even. Bad wall tapes and bad poetry are not art, it is not living - it is tiring, so so fucking tiring - I have had enough! I want more. I had been thinking that no one here was capable of meaning, that all people here are capable of are writing self-involved diaries (shut up, I am well aware about the pots calling kettles black), doing silly chalk drawings, and reciting poems that I thought were bad when I read them by people just as silly in eleventh grade, but this, tonight, has renewed my faith here in possibilities, in potentials, in maybes - that this place still can surprise me and that is a good thing. A damn good thing. Ken has me inspired to do something with myself, with my hands, to show you something. Cards and curtains are only so exciting. I am capable of more, we all are. I am going to create the world I want to live in.