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Happy! Happy!
Glenn also came back to coding and he's working on an area for SoA now.
I should mention something here tonight that I have put off saying for awhile. At first it took me a few days to understand what happened. The second time, it tooks only about an hour. Two nights ago, it only took about 1 minute to grasp and then several hours of shock recovery therapy held in Glenn's boiler room as he snored soundly in the other room. I'm speaking of lucid dreams.
At first, I found that I was easily able to induce myself into a state of quiet meditation. That blossomed into deeper meditation until those states became trance-worthy and I became susceptible to emotions within my own states of mind. This has changed. Lucid dreaming has become common place now. Nearly each night my mind falls into a captivating plethora of thought, will, emotion, and sense. Within these lucid dreams, it is as if I am living out a dream. It must be a dream; that's the only way I can rationalize it. But, they are much more set apart from any other state for one reason - they _are_ real. They do not seem real, or act real. There is no fuzzy dream border outlining my point of view in my mind while this is occuring. No. It is happening somewhere, somehow. What makes it feel so trippy and real? I not only feel emotional pain there, but actual physical pain. I can bleed, I can die there. That is what it feels like. I wake up in the same body, I think, with the same thoughts, maybe minus a few frow the initial shock, but overall I am still me as far as I or anyone else can tell.
This semester, I will return to possibly my last semester at Stony Brook. I will having many study sessions, group outings, and other good times. But the times I am looking foward too for having to be there will be my walks with Hetre Z, my downtime with Cornbread, and Thursday nights which I have decided I will use to meditate outside somewhere on campus, in a different place every week. Those who come, if they so choose, can participate in guided meditations with me and maybe even lead me into my the rear of my mind sometime throughout the year. I want this to be the best damn semester I 've ever had. And I want to share all that I can of myself with the few friends I have left.
I wanted to say something about that awhile ago as well. This break I lost two friends; Pat and Matt.
Pat
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I didn't know you as a person really well, but I was fully aware of your insatiable appetite for alcohol and coupled with my insatiable appetite for litmus paper, our conversations were something of a lock-and-key mechanism that never made any sense but always seemed to fit. You'll be missed Pat. No one else could sleep so silently, so dilegently in a pool of their very own vomit upon the carpetted suite floor. And Pat, no one was worse at beer pong than you were when you were totally smashed, which was 24 hours a day, but only 7 of those were spent conscious. You will be missed Pat (for some strange reason/s)
Matt
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Matthew Michaels, if that's your real name. You were like my best friend up at school. Whenever Glenn or Brad wasn't around, I could confide in you and tell you anything. You were like me, only white. You're such an asshole, and coming from me, that's the biggest compliment you'll ever receive in your whole lifetime. It came as a bit of a suprise that you had gotten into trouble with the University as you did, but shit happens, I know that. Dude, who am I gonna veg-out with when there's nothing to do? It really sucks to think you won't be around anymore and it's very disheartening. But I know you'll visit sometimes. It will be difficult getting used to you not being around for the first few weeks, but I'm sure we'll deal with it somehow. Thank you for Gulliver's Palace and thank you for the Roblog. Most of all, thank you for being my friend. You will be missed Mat (for reasons everyone knows).
Well, sadly, I mustsay goodbye to these friends. I will add them to the list of "gone and sometimes remembered people". Oh world, what have you been coming to?
If I knew how to heal the world, I'd sell it for a popsicle.
Later llamas.
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