As you might know my cousin, Gus and I are having a series of short story contests. The current iteration is titled,

My younger cousin Gus is writing a short story right now titled,

I have never told the entire story of my life. Trust me when I say that it is a story that will never be told. I have been cleaning my room. As it turns out, my room had two planners and one my journals from the lost year. I call fall of 1999 to the end of 2000 the lost year. It was a time in my life where things changed and my path fundamentally changed. (What you are reading is the very short written account of who I met and during what period of my life.) I have been looking over my address books and it is strange to think about the waves of people that I have met in my life. In college I have gone through several phases of personal growth. Each of these phases corresponds to a different tide of friendships. Of course, over the last decade I have had some friends who have been around the entire time. These high school friends like Shahman, Caryn, and Mike have always been around over the years. What I am talking about right now is the different waves or tides of college friendships.

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i am working on editing a novel right now. when i am done i will write something else, until that day comes i will be editing. i swear editing my old writing is time consuming…

Introductory Disclaimer: This is a collaborative short story written, drawing on themes from realistic fiction. This short story does not claim to be teaching a lesson of morality, however if you happen to learn something during the course of reading this expose into the banality of existence, then you are probably reading very far into the message of the short story. The main characters in this story are composite characters named Sloth, Hippie, Whale, and of course Monkey. (Monkey in this case does not have a derogatory racial overtone, if you perceive that meaning of the word, then please stop that, and redefine Monkey to the popular slang meaning, “a computer code monkey”.) None of these names has any real meaning in reality, other than being overly generalized exaggerated character descriptions to help the reader keep track of the story. I would have numbered the characters, but Gus contends that is a bad way to write stories.

Chapter One: The Memorial Day Barbeque

This story starts at an average, run of the mill Memorial Day barbeque, at an apartment in a relaxed Midwestern college town. Nothing could be as harmless, friends getting together and celebrating a national holiday with a few alcoholic beverages while standing around the grill. I am one of those people who likes to bring different groups of people together. It is not coincidence, that on Memorial Day a few friends changed the life of a few old friends forever. Most of the time I wish this was a fictional story, but otherwise I simply pretend that it did not happen. Most of the names in this story are fiction in an effort to protect the guilty from reality.

We were sitting outside on the balcony of a third floor apartment, talking around the grill, when Courtney started talking about how we should be careful not to introduce the Sloth to the Hippie. Evidently, the Hippie was on the prowl looking for a very particular set of qualities that represent the exact value necessary to be enticing. In the midst of conversing about the long-term consequences of United States foreign policy, such as arrangements of inaction and protest, we somehow lost track of the Hippie for a few minutes. One of the people at the party looked through the window to see that the Hippie had joined the sloth on the chesterfield.

This was not the first time, in which the two of them would make a mistake, however today someone had mistakenly found the Sloth. This was the first time that the Sloth had met a new friend without any effort. Some of us from time to time refer to this as the highlight of a young Sloth’s life. Probably a fundamentally life validating moment for an individual who spends so much time in the same place that the chesterfield has a permanent imprint. Of course, things did not turn out perfectly after that. The Hippie forgot to leave a phone number and so several weeks of talking about various things went by before the Sloth got the number and made the phone call.

I have to give you a little background about the Sloth. If you have ever had a truly lazy roommate, then you are starting to get the picture about the Sloth. For example, I have left Lawrence to drive to Kansas City, and came back several days later and the Sloth was still laying on the Chesterfield in the exact same position as when I left for the city.
The most shocking part of the part was when they suddenly best friends. Going everywhere and doing everything together; even going as far as signing up for the same classes, geology, and geography. Maybe all of this studying where rocks are on maps contributed to some serious miscalculations in judgment. Soon enough they were spending more and more time together. It was a very strange scenario, because people had to remember to invite both of them to parties. People were not ready for them to have a relationship and honestly, “Who would have ever guessed?”

Chapter Two: Tests and Relationships

If you could not guess from the title of this chapter that this story is about to change directions, then perhaps I have not tipped my hat. This is a chapter about change, and about how relationships change. People experience influence from serious life events, and when those life events involve a relationship things can change very quickly. Relationships begin and end for all sorts of different reasons, and sometimes you can learn a fair amount of information about people by listening to stories about relationship ending events.

Some things just destabilized relationships. One of those things is definitely a pregnancy test. A symbol of permanence that definitively changes two lives forever. The strangest of best friends received an extreme reality test. Of course, I called Courtney immediately to attempt to figure out how to deal with the shock of finding a pregnancy test. I had never really thought about the two of them having children, and honestly, I did not really want to know. Neither the Sloth nor the Hippie ever really talked about the results, but things were never really the same after that.

It was only a matter of time before the Sloth tried to create some distance between the two of them. The Sloth has an exceptional fear of commitment that extends beyond just having to do physical activity. A little later, the big breakup fight happened at the apartment. For some reason the Sloth wanted to borrow an Oceanography book, and at the same time thought that, it was time to end the relationship. The strangest part of the whole situation is that both of them insisted for months that they were not in a relationship. I called them the quasi couple for months. The Hippie came over to the apartment and started to have conflict with the Sloth, which somehow turned into the Hippie’s foot under the door. Then all of a sudden, the Sloth was trying to open the window and pitch the Hippie’s stuff out of the window, the whole time a foot was under the door.

This is when the idea of the Sloth being worth thirty dollars came into being. The Hippie wanted to, be made complete again, from all of the time invested in the relationship. Even getting to the point of asking the Sloth for a leather jacket or some article of Fraternity clothing, and then moving to financial compensation changing the way I viewed the relationship. It turns out that about nine months of time with the Sloth as a value of about thirty dollars. For some reason at this moment in time, the Sloth starts talking about calling the police and reporting a disturbance. Sloth was even going as far as talking about potential drug charges. The evening ended with the Hippie leaving the apartment in a fit or rage, things found no resolution, and conflict was everywhere.

Chapter Three: A Night on Massachusetts Street

The Sloth is legendary for going out on the town and picking up a certain variety of individual. Of course, this is about more than just drinking it is about going out to get drunk. This is about a night on Massachusetts Street. Ironically, this is not a story about the Sloth’s ability to drink a pitcher of been in one fluid motion.

Somehow, I got a call from a friend who was driving down Massachusetts Street and witnessed a very odd occurrence. The Sloth somehow ran into the Whale. Now I am talking about a very strange individual, who told me three things: (1) that I would be a failure in everything I did in my life, (2) that I am one of the dumbest individuals ever, (3) I am a drain on everybody that I meet in life. Now keep in mind all of this happened before I ever managed to say a word.

I have to drive them both home with them in the back seat the entire time just making out. Think about it in terms of sounds that still haunt my dreams. One of these days I will be able to tell the Sloth about how terrible an evening this actually was. It was the beginning of a new direction for the Sloth and the Hippie.

Two competing versions of what happened that unfaithful night. Sloth contended for the longest time that this was a one-night stand and that it was part of a much larger smoke screen designed to convince the Hippie that the Sloth was a terrible individual. Personally, I do not think that the Sloth is a terrible person, simply misguided, and of course a little self-centered in a purely lazy way. For those of you reading along on the home version, I cannot exaggerate or overemphasis the degree of laziness embodied by the Sloth. I once came up with a title for the Sloth’s autobiography, “A two toed Sloth, living in a three toed world.” This is probably the most accurate title I have ever come up with in my years of writing. That however is another set of stories for another day. Perhaps a rainy day, because it is a very long set of stories, for a person who really is very inactive.

Chapter Four: The Graduation Party

Like all normal college students who manage to graduate, it is about time to have a graduate party and invite everybody to have a few drinks. It was at a joint graduate party between three friends from very different backgrounds ranging from Aerospace Engineering to Communications Studies. We rented out a large upstairs room at Johnny’s Tavern a drinking landmark in a city of college students. At Johnny’s Tavern, the “UP & UNDER” room is one of those places that might be legendary for VIP parties, depending on who you ask, and how many drugs they have consumed.

Partly because of the rotation of the crowd to the bar to get beer, and probably a little bit to do with fate at some point the Whale ends up meeting the Hippie. At first, they were civil to each other, because they really did not understand the full extent to the connection they would one day share. Soon after a little conversation and probably too much drinking, the drama really starts to begin. Something about college graduation and free beers always seems to contribute to those now is the time moments when people engage in very private conversations, very publicly.

At this point, the Sloth spends the entire evening hitting on the Whale. I am talking about standing in the corner of the bar together simply making small talks, laughing, and attempting to enjoy the evening. Who knew that in the middle of the Sloth hitting on the Whale the Hippie would find a moment to sit on his lap and start some serious making out? Then the Hippie told the Whale that they had engaged in activities between the sheets a couple days earlier. For some strange reason this did not slow the Whale down at all and of for some reason they may or may not have ended up back at the apartment again.

The Sloth even walked up to a friend David, who would one day in the future break a very legendary streak, and said some very terrible things, about being or out of a relationship. Things were said, and I seem to remember something like, “It is just wrong for you to toy, with David’s emotions, get in or get out!” Who knew the benevolent agenda of America’s favorite Sloth, would be so different in rhetorical theory.

Some people say that this was all a big setup and that this whole thing was misdirection. Who knows what really happened? I have talked to most of the people involved in that evening, but I am afraid that I was not sober enough at the time to bring forward an accurate account of the evening. What I can say is that at one point my friend Blue had a friend of ours walk up and slap the Sloth in the face. This is funny because the friend of ours is one of the biggest coolers I have ever met in my life. (A cooler is an individual who is truly capable of removing every ounce of fun from a situation with a limited amount of effort). Even with people walking up to the Sloth and the Whale and saying things like, “I vote NO!” Nothing could have stopped those two from ending up together that evening.

Therefore, in case you were not paying attention. Two people engulfed in the conflict that they were creating at a graduation party caused conflict for everybody. Some people who knew the Sloth and the situation tried to resolve the situation through conversation and in one case even a massive slap to the Sloth’s face. Yeah, it was a very eventful evening, according to the scorecards, only the French judge disagreed, and has ruled that chapter four should have an amended title, “My Bastille Day.”

Chapter Five: A Birthday Yard Party

Some people enjoy celebrating birthdays more than others do. David had a birthday celebration that involved some seriously planning, invitations, drunken phone calls, and bar hopping. During the festivities, our friend Blue managed to invite out the Sloth who was previously not going to receive an invitation, because the Hippie is the chosen one for attendance at the birthday party event. Sometimes people have to take sides in arguments and after awhile, everybody seems to get used to the completely taking sides argument. At which point the Sloth was not winning on most scorecards.
In this case, the Sloth got an invitation from Blue, who was not fully aware of the different conflicts of interest. The Hippie had thrown drinks in the Sloth’s face throughout the city at different bars. We ended up at a bar called the Ranch. Blue and Sloth took turns buying David shots of Crown Royal Liquor all night. It turns out that the two things that David really hates are Crown Royal Liquor and pickles. If I could get a shot of Crown Royal with a pickle slice in it at a bar, then I would be able to see David in absolutely debilitating pain.

When the evening ended, the after party started at David’s apartment. Only conflict was that nobody invited the Sloth, because the Hippie was going to attend. I got a phone call then ended up in an argument about who was, “Being the Asshole.” It turned out that even though the Sloth was not invited an ultimatum, that if the Sloth showed up, the Hippie was going to start some serious conflict. Obviously, the Sloth could not help avoiding the conflict.

I left that party as fast as I possibly could. I found out later that a big fight occurred. Evidently, the Sloth sat out on the steps drinking for the longest time until everyone had left the party except the Hippie. Then all of a sudden in a fit of rage, the two of them started talking and in the middle of all the talking ended up rolling around in the front lawn punks, headlocks, and even some slapping occurred. It was not a good scene by any stretch of the imagination.

Without stating the obvious, repeatedly, “OVER & OVER” again in the end, the Sloth gained access to the less than distinguished title of ‘disavowed friend’. It is a sad day, when you have to pick one set of friends over another set of friends. I know that not everything stays the same, and that change is natural in relationships and friendships, but sudden change always seems to make me go a big rubbery one. I cannot help it I just get overly emotional, maybe my last little poor maligned feeling only cares about change!

Chapter Six: A Night of Dollar Drinks

Everything was going just fine. Everybody had come to grips with the reality that two friends in the group did not want to see each other. Sure, it was uncomfortable and caused some conflict from time to time. Something happened on a Wednesday night that had never happened before, the Whale’s boyfriend Monkey was out at the bar.

I made a prediction before I went home, that since the Monkey was rather large, somewhat pasty, and of course a little sloth like, I thought that the Hippie might just turn the tables on the Whale.
Little did I know that the story would come full circle? It turns out that after everyone was leaving the bar a few people decided they would have a little after hour’s party. Some people went and engaged in recreational activities at the Hippies house. The last person to leave was the Monkey. Evidently, the monkey wanted to engage in some recreational activities with the Hippie. While the Whale had allowed the Sloth’s aggressive pursuit at the Graduation party, the Hippie got the last laugh on dollar night.

The story actually diverged into two stories one in which, the Hippie had aggressively gone after the Monkey when everybody left the apartment in a very inappropriate way. A version of the story even went as far as quoting the Hippie as saying, “You know I am only doing this to get back at the Whale!” Since you are probably a rational coherent individual you probably know that the reason the Monkey went straight, back to the Whale to report what had happened was because, maybe it was only a matter of time before information dissemination would bring the story full circle. Sometimes self-reporting is the best option especially when you are a Monkey that is about to be in some serious trouble.

In the end, somebody has to write this down. Of course, only a collaborative short story written, drawing on themes from realistic fiction, could capture every angle and perhaps explain things through a holistic description of the details. It seems like only in the movies, do such strange spider webs of interpersonal relationships, develop from the pen of a writer. Fiction and reality are sometimes twins in the strange game of relationships.

Oh yeah, if you managed to learn some lesson of morality, through reading this story, then could you tell me what it is? I did not manage to learn anything during the course of writing this expose into the banality of existence. In all honestly, then again, ten minutes from now I will still be convincing myself that it did not happen.

My humblest apologizes worthy reader, if you have been checking this page, and not found anything new to read. This last year has gone by so fast. From starting a second college degree in the midst of a very serious relationship to learning that, I could graduate in only one year. Well I now have two degrees and I left so much behind to sacrifice for my education. I did not spend enough time with all of my friends, and alas, I had several failed relationships during the last year. It happens I know that. I am not worried about the future.
This was actually the month, where I was going to give up my pursuits of higher education, and spend all of my time working on a computer program. However, things change, just as they always do, and for some reason probably always will. I have been enjoying my summer with reckless abandon. From spending my mornings at the country club, sipping beverages and getting slightly tan. I made some poolside phone calls, to Andy ?Blue? O?MacPhelan, during the course of my very busy day.
Of course, I have to take time out to note that Gus has returned from Australia. Gus went to Australia with a small amount of love for the Kangaroo a creature that is observed with a certain degree of reverence throughout the world. When Gus returned from Australia, Kangaroos were no longer acceptable; they became a pesky rodent like creature, that simply does not belong. Who do those Australians think they are? Besmirching the good name of the Kangaroo? This newfound hatred of such a loveable creature causes me to be able to seriously question what they have been drinking down under.

One of the things I remember about myself is my unhealthy appetite for writing. I have been told, on many occasions, that my skill with the pen is less than becoming. However, it does not concern me anymore. My goals are clear; I want to write down as many of the theories that are in my head in as complete a fashion as I can before they are gone. I believe that permanence is a necessity if the idea is meaningful and without a written record permanence is not possible.
If I could return to the days where I wrote at least ten pages a day, then I would be happy and I would be cleansing my mind on a daily basis. From time to time, I cannot sleep; I stare at the ceiling of the room as my mind wonders. One of the biggest problems I have is that when my mind gets going I cannot sleep. Most of the time anytime I lay down to sleep and before I know it hours have passed.
At some point during the last, I stopped working on my own theories and gave in to the demand of paper writing. The regurgitation of the familiar for professors is not a skill that I value or believe is useful. If a scholar went to the trouble of penning an idea to paper well, then that idea probably does not need to be copied. It needs to questioned and reconsidered from a thousand different points of view only to decide on what the answer really means for society. That is the one area where the philosophy department has it right they ask students to read and react, challenge, and propose new theories. That is exactly why philosophy will always move forward and the field of public administration in my view will continue to muddle through.

Warning: In the event of original thought, make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Please remain calm and direct your attention to the television monitors. We will be showing our safety demonstration and would like the next few minutes of your complete attention. At this time, your thought will add to the new list of potential permanence for the record. If this pattern of original thought continues, each exit is equipped with an evacuation slide, which you can use as a life raft. At this time, it is the recommendation of that staff that you return to your regularly scheduled thought.

I was told today that my writing has lost some of the edginess that made it readable. This could probably be attributed to how burnt out I have been. I am really excited about my two major summer trips that will be very liberating. I will spend my summer break time in the Peoples Republic of China in the month of June and in Cancun Mexico during the month of July.
Believe it or not I do not like traveling. I have never really been a fan of going places. My general rule of thumb is that we are all in part self sufficient and we do not need to travel to become better people. I find this notion of the need to travel to be rather nonsensical and weak. For the most part I am not a good travel companion and I can tell you that I did not play either of my summer trips.
One of the things that I learned today was that my large number of graduate hours this semester is a major deficit. While I am very motivated, academics do not think taking nineteen graduate hours in one semester is a good idea. In fact I have been told to have my head examined on a number of occasions for taking so many classes this semester. In any event I am not worried about the whole process I get my degree and that is enough reward.
Well that is that. I am back and better than ever; energized, motivated, and my mind is clear. Most of my time now is spent either exclusively working or napping. The process that brings the best out of my poor malingered mind when I am not watching bad movies and drinking excessive amounts of caffeinated beverages. I even promise to try to be less depressed and more polite, calm, and soothing. (Ignore the malicious grin and evil snickering.) I am in class right now and the professor is talking about how logic models imply a degree of conditionality. I honestly sometimes wonder if professes think that students have no idea what is going on in the world.

I can tell from the log files that I get a large number of one time visitors. This could be do to a variety of reasons: I am rather abrasive, I have nothing to say, or perhaps my color scheme is terrible. I am not really worried about this phenomena what I am also not worried about is being judged constantly for my work. Why do people feel the need to criticize everything at all time for no other reason than personal amusement?
I am really overextended right now looking for what the future will hold. It is not the questions that drive me mad it is the lack of answers. That is the fundamentally crux of discipline of philosophy in case you were curios. I feel like I have not accomplished anything meaningful over the last year and a half. Because this worries me more than I would ever let on I try to think of ways to move forward.
Some people think that I might perhaps possibly be a schemer! I tell them that I have never had a scheme in my life and that I do not know what they are talking about. Honestly, I am not a schemer; I am in favor of long term planning for the future. I can tell you this much I am excited about the next two weeks, because the future will unfold itself and everything will become clear.

Wanting more has not been a feeling that I have had in a long time. I think I am finely starting to wake up to the world and know what is going to happen next. Who knew that this year would be such a learning experience? Something things really do have to change, but I miss the old days when things went well and I had confidence. Not to say that I do not have confidence now, but it is different I have lost that edge that made me care about what was going on.
Yesterday I watched the game and wrote a couple of papers. I sat down and stared at the screen for almost an hour before I began to write and then all of a sudden the first paper was done. It seems like I can either write the paper or I am not going to write the paper. This time of year is always plagued with motivation problems. This year is no different for me. I am graduating with a master?s degree, which is a major step forward.
The only problem is that I might now want to continue in my current field of study. I might need to find a new discipline of thought to study. Who knows where I will be next year, and I am finally at peace with that realization. I was very depressed about the reality of not knowing and of course suffering from the constant I am not good enough syndrome. Well that is that. I hope to move forward and I am going to go back to my natural pace of writing.

Pathetic sense of overwhelming self apathy grasps my state of conciseness as I opened the door. I become aware of myself moving swiftly and silently. I feel my hand stray from the cold embrace of the doorknob. The wind grabs my thoughts and turns them inward to the conflicted sense of falling backward as I step out of the room. A somewhat reassuring sense overwhelms me as I feel a lost sullen since of staring at the sky.
Nothing calling, waiting, taking something from that feeling of helpless abandon. Guessing where the next gust of wind will take my dreams. Focused on the reckless search for a sense of what is to come. I am deriving motivation from a conflicted sense of loss somehow falling past the gentle wisps of smoke clouding the air in front of my face.
Everything moving away from something calling silently in every creek I hear of the window as the wind passes. Lingering in the silence of screaming at the hidden meaning of life I retreat back into the darkness. I find myself guessing how to give into the meaning of a thousand years of thoughts transparent across the image of the sky.

I am working on a final essay for the University of Kansas Masters in Public Administration program. Sometimes it is easy to forget how reflective thought is the only way to be able to see the way the past has influenced the present. When I am done with the first draft tonight I will write something for myself in note of celebration.

I drafted this letter today to the chair of my department. I think it clearly expalians why I have been so upset lately.
I was not sure how to get my arms around our conversation earlier today. I would like to first apologize for being at a loss of words and for emotionally breaking down at the end of the conversation. Breaking down in public, has never happened to me before I am embarrassed about my lack of self-control. I just wanted to make that fact abundantly clear.
Currently, as I understand it, I have a limited window of time before the April 16 application review process begins. So what am I supposed to do? I could give up, but I would never forgive myself for taking that course of action. That leaves me with only one option as I see it to prove you wrong. My only serious current drawback as a student is my inability to articulate my thoughts in a grammatically correct fashion.
When you challenged me to write in such a way that the reader does not question anything grammar related I could feel my heart drop. I have honestly come a long way this semester in learning the rules that govern sentence structure. I am not sorry that I did not use a copy editor to cover up my inadequacies as a writer. I feel that I have made tremendous strides forward this semester. This is the largest challenge I have ever faced in the academic world. I am lucky that I am an exceptionally strong individual and no matter what it takes I will overcome the current problem facing me.
Thank you for your time and effort I know it was not easy for you to sit across the table from me and tell me that my weaknesses as a writer would preclude me from continuing my education. It is unfortunate that the window of opportunity in your class has closed for me to prove that my writing skills are improving. I am also sorry that my writing skills did not show enough improvement to meet your standards. My failure to show rapid improvement rests clearly on my shoulders.
I do take responsiblity for my own actions. That is the first step to being able to realize the potential for change.

What is left at the end of the day? What is left is the things that you can hold to. I am not claiming to be a wise sage or ahead of the game. Every day I learn a little bit more about myself and where I am going. I have decided to take some time for myself to begin to learn what it really is that I want to do with the days that I have. I have never really been sentimental about things or wanted to be for that matter. This semester has been my most difficult journey through academia. I have two important things that have fundamentally shaken me as a person, a writer, and a thinker.
I learned that I cannot speak my mind at all times because some forums are not constructed for the fee association of thought. At times I have had to learn to be a listener I have had to learn to be reflection in my interactions with others. This was not an epiphany moment or anything that had anything to do with me. A professor told me that my presentation style was a distraction to other students and that I could not use my aggressive straight forward style to influence others. I had never really thought of myself as influencing anyone at anytime. This really plays into the second thing I have learned this semester. I can no longer write for myself to keep a record of the things that I found important. It is not easy learning how to write from scratch.
It may seem like I constantly discuss what it takes to be a writer. The reality is simple between midterms and finals I have to learn to be a proficient writer improving my grammar and articulation. This might sound easy and can be written into a plan of action but implementation takes more out of me than I care to admit. For the most part I am learning to change the way I think to open my mind to a new world of structure that I had built up a wall against. No longer am I sheltered in a world of confidence and certainty. The world does not make sense. At times it is embarrassing because what comes so natural to others does not come to me. I cannot look at a sentence and know what is wrong with it. I do not have that cognitive ability I am barely keeping up learning the rules and structure of basic sentences while having to produce results at the same time.
Rethinking on a daily basis is out of the question it is time to act or to give up and at this moment in time giving up is out of the question the end is to close. I have said my peace I guess.

Bending notice that which can not be seen in the light of day for it is something more than what was left and in that it was more than what I could see but how do you continue alone the day and ask the night for a moment of resolution a piece of peace for a better day the next day that can be found on the next list of things to do for a show do not have the time to sit and reflect on what will be. I passively ask what is next in a timid way to find myself looking at a mirror that stands in a mound of sand that once was glass but now is mad. More than what I can do for what I can see is something a little darker than before. I wait outside for night to fall as the sky darkens and the snow begins to fall. It is not the cold but the wind that breaks my spirit tumbling me back into the despair of my room. It was more than what I could hope for it was a night to end all nights.
Something is different about the weekend air something is different about the intentions about the people about the day itself. A weekday is just that a workday it does not make sense it does not need to now does it have to. It is not what it was years ago in the pub and the bar and the tavern that had a sense of gathering for a meeting and knowing something about the town. Now we drink when it gets dark to go home to where it is darker in a way that cannot be shared or known it is simply taking the existing out of existence. Paltry test of time and meaning in a sea of mellow dreams weaving in and out of being known. Drip drop down and out and onward to where I have no idea I think I will give up on being something great. Take up a paintbrush and invent a new lake a sea of green and blue followed by a last brushstroke or two. The life of an artist to remember the memory of a work left to be remembered it took up all of the time in the world to leave a gift that stood still for all the time the world had left.
Perplexed with a vision of disgust I leave myself at the back of the room with a tempting bottle of something more eventful than the evening itself. What is left of a night when you drink out of spite and remember what you want because the night was yours to remember? Pity takes the night away and leaves you with nothing but the bottle and a feeling of remorse that maybe you should have spent more time outside of your room. I put down my pen and look for my paintbrush only to find that I never went out and bought one or had one to begin with. I had just dreamed about painting in a daze a smoky foggy haze a mental note of a daydream long forgotten. It was not a pleasant note to realize I had only done about have the things I thought about, but who am I wonder as I slip away from being the painter and think about becoming a writer again, ?Am I pointless mindless mental step forward in the presumption of my own existence? Can I perceive what I see as it really is? Or am I blind to the reality of the words that others speak through this process of taking in and pushing away the things I do not want to listen to? Everyday I find myself asking what it is that I am doing with this time I have.?

Sorry poor reader I am working through some stuff and I need to write down all my thoughts so that I can read and reread them. If you have any ideas that could help let me know I am looking for a bit of advice.
I am not who I want to be, I am what I am, and in that I am lost. I cannot move forward more than my abilities will carry me. I guess I have my back against the wall my ability has been called into question and will I be able to rise to the challenge to push the envelope and find a way to survive? I had a conversation with somebody who knows a little bit about my writing style and it was determined that perhaps I need to go ahead an adopt a new style of writing a new format for my work or at least a system of editing that work.
That system is going to include doing a first draft of my academic paper written under my current style, then a second draft editing for grammar and removing about 10%. (The Stephen King rule) The third draft will be a polish and edit draft where the paper should be up to academic standards and the forth draft is simply a final revision and reading the paper out load forward and backward to find the final errors.
I had a chance to talk to Kate who told me that perhaps I am thinking about this the wrong way and that I should go ahead and realize that perhaps I have become an ideological optimist and a practical pessimist and that mix of ideas and policy objection is causing problems. While I agree with Kate that I am conflicted I am not sure what to do I am trying to rethink my writing style and I guess I need to kick it up a notch and write to a doctoral level.
I am going to have to go ask for some samples of what is considered to be truly great academic doctoral prose and I am going to need to get somebody to mark up a paper with me watching and explain why some things are errors and why some things are not errors. I have to dig deep and begin to work on developing a writing style that conforms to my expectations and the expectations of others. Setter says that I have lost all sense of reality and that I am on my pity kick writing about writing.
I contend that I am just doing some reflective thinking and sometimes I need to vet my ideas because peer review is the only way to break my thoughts down to the point where change might actually occur. I am at a point where something has to be done and that something needs to be done soon so here it goes I am asking for some advice, ?Tell me what you think??

One of the things I enjoy more than anything is to walk around a warehouse store in the middle of the night. Something about it is just calming a reassuring sense that no matter what corporate America is working. Now my roommate who for some reason felt the need to sleep all day until about ten in the evening when I decided to wake up the sloth. It is my firm belief that the sloth should not be allowed to sleep all day it simply is not prudent.

So today the sloth’s big adventure was to go to the nations number one warehouse retailer of household junk and other various things that can be sold at bargain prices to purchase a copy of Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines. Now I am a huge Arnold fan but I could not convince myself to go see this movie in the theaters but in honor of Arnold?s recent rise to governor of California I thought I would purchase a copy. On my way to purchase the movie, we walked past a girl who was doing something very odd even for a midnight shopper.

She was simply smelling the scented fragrance packages and then putting them back. Now I was not completely sure of what she was doing so of course the sloth and I made two trips up and down the isle to make sure. Sure enough, she was just sniffing the scented inserts that you plug into the wall and then putting them back. For the better part of ten minutes that is all she did not even noticing when I walked by. (Oh I have to break into the story to tell you about the sloth, he eats an apple so slow that he was absolutely impressed by the fact that an apple turns brown so fast and because of his lack of apple eating experience this astounded him. Now back to the story.) So the late night retail sniffer lets call her was still sniffing fragrance packages when I left the store. I still do not know why she was doing that or if she will ever stop, the only certainty left in life is that the sloth will not stop slothing.

absolute free stream prose from the mind of nels lindahl at or around 10:47 in the evening because i can spare a moment?
it does not take much time to sit down and write
what i want to do is to learn how to write more often
to take that ten pages a day and make it count
what does it take to be able to do that?
i probably will never know i need something more
i need to take that short story idea that i come up with
every day and i need to put it into writing that next day
i need to learn how to carve out a part of my day just to write
that is important as a part of getting things done
it is a way to know when the production is productivity
to have the ability to think and be creative
is sometimes not enough because it takes something more
you cannot be just a creator of ideas
you have to be able to deliver on those ideas
that is where the problem is created
how do you keep up with your ideas
at what point do you have to stop thinking to start writing
how do you create that breaking point and know when
that is the question that drives me to move forward
it is the question that breaks me from the future
i do not know what i want to accomplish in this world
all i know is that i needed something true
i needed to be a part of my own life
tomarrow i will go to class and to work
i am not sure why i need to work but i know i do
i know that i want to finish my masters thesis soon
i must work harder than before my progress slows
being called into question is painful
it is hard to be suspect about issues
issues are clear and they are in front of you
finishing my masters is important to me
it will be the beginning of the future the door
the ability to take three years and finish something
to begin writing and to finish writing something
fit to be published for the world to read
an idea that can be applied and will be readable
that is what makes it so hard to take a step back
so close to the goal of learning for the sake of learning
learning enough to be able to put pen to paper
to write something meaningful that matters
it could take awhile to find something useful
the work might never be noticed
it could be noticed years from now

It is now officially Halloween. I had an interesting experience of coincidence that I thought I would share. Most of you know that I have been working on my writing skills. In fact, I have purchased a copy of Elements of Style and sitting next to this book on the shelf at Hastings was a copy of Stephen King?s On Writing. Naturally, I felt compelled to purchase Stephen King?s memoir on the craft of writing. I sent a thank you not to Stephen King, which I have posted here for the record.
?I am a master?s student in Public Administration at the University of Kansas and am in roughly my fifth year of college. The chair of the department informed me that my writing skills needed significant work, a very upsetting idea for a graduate student, and while searching for Elements of Style I ran across your book On Writing. You are definitely a writer I trust so of course I read it cover to cover. It is now four am and I have just finished reading the book. On Writing was an exceptionally helpful reference to thinking about how grammar and writing relate. I just wanted to thank you for taking the time to talk about the realities of writing and what it takes to be a competent writer. I have a renewed enthusiasm about reading and working on learning how to be a better writer. For that I just wanted to let you know that you have a positive impact on my life and how insightful reading On Writing truly was.?
Reading about Stephen King?s experiences as a writer and taking the time to really focus on the grammatical value of On Writing. I guess I feel fairly empowered by the book, which I can honestly say is not a common reaction of mine to Stephen?s work. For what it is worth I extend my grateful thanks for producing such a valuable work.

I was walking around the bookstore the other day and found a couple books that made me think about what I wanted to do with the limited amount of time that I have. One of them is to put together two collected volumes of work one related to essays on, ?The Normative Game,? and the collection of writings associated with moving toward a ?Functional Utopia.? These two volumes of work are the central bodies of work that have interested me and where I have spent a majority of my time. Perhaps when those two volumes are completed a third volume will be made available related to my fiction writing.
Volume One: Theory of social choice and preference, ?The Normative Game.?
Volume Two: Theory on the future of society, ?Functional Utopia.?
Volume Three: Fiction Short & Long Stories
What do I really know about what I should be doing? I guess I have been given this small window of time to go ahead and write down and research my general theories. I am always being challenged on why I want to move forward and why I do not believe in allowing the Normative Game to control my actions. I say why be average, in thought or action, I have no need for upholding social value for the basis of acceptance. I accept myself and in that rational I am not beholden to others for the value of my own perception.

If I said that I had never felt lost that would be a lie, at times I have no idea what I am looking for or why I everyday I try to accomplish a little more than the day before. It is hard to remember when the beginning started or what it was that led me down this path torn between being a technology focused life and a life of public service. In the end it is a simplistic choice to better a smaller community of technological elite for my own benefit or spend time writing on the subject of technology within a perspective of the public mind. I guess I am just scared that I will at some point loose focus and begin to work on a technology related project that consumes me.
I guess I have broken down a little bit because of the fact that I am considering releasing my compression system on this webpage. It is something that maybe I just need to get rid of to be happy so that I do not have the excuse of working on it and spending every bit of extra free time working on it. That is the real reason perhaps it is a selfish reason to publicly release it but who knows. I am always paranoid and I guess the idea is why not tell everybody as the same time that way it is not a secret.

i used to believe in trust
the idea of predictability
but at this moment in time
i just do not know
i used to believe in people
that they are basically good
right now I just think
that people are strange
are we moving forward
is there really a place to go
is this as good as it gets
will we find an acceptable future

Do we notice those subtle changes in others
Like we notice subtle changes in ourselves
Can we ever really see what is changing
Are we there to be able to see all the sides
Perspective is diminished from lack of exposure

They scurried along the floor looking for something that they could use something that they could bring back and see for what it really was. Everything in the end was something they would eventually have. Knowing that information was something that they had to know about because it was the basis of value it was in the end information. It was what they did a duty they had to fulfill otherwise the others would not accept them. I can remember that morning when I was in an insomnia driven daze and I caught a glimpse of what had to be something very strange. An odd little creature riffling through my papers and playing with books. Could it really have been one of the gnomes that I had only dreamed about? One of those depraved little creatures that had only one purpose to seek out and steal every little bit of information that they could possibly find and to deliver that to the rest of the Information gnomes.

These angry little creatures were the bane of my existence they stole information for what reason to have it and make sure that it never saw the light of day ever again. It was only information that was secret that they enjoyed public information was nothing to them it just did not matter. Secrets were so much better to the little information gnomes. They were a complex network of creatures that identified those who were in there eyes the keeps of original though and they visited them from time to time to take from them the ideas that could be shared with the world. These information gnomes were sneaky little creatures that prided themselves on what they had been doing for centuries.

Think about it in terms of what could have been if these little gnomes had not stolen the information that would have been shared with the masses what could have been done? Had they stolen the keys to the future by breaking apart the past into bits and pieces destroying the legacy of the greatest thinks by making there work incomplete and keeping the best ideas for themselves. Society has persevered with a great loss but what could be done to turn the tide and take back these ideas for the betterment of society. Would the world really be forever changed without the potential for advancement? What is social loss without some kind of personal gain? It is tragic and avoidable if only there was a way to manage the information gnomes and if it would be possible to regain all of the lost information, the world would be changed forever.

standing taller a little more free
asking someone if they can see
the bit of my life that went away
from a habit that simply cannot pay
knocking the cobwebs from my head
being able to get out of bed
moving somewhere really fast
maybe this trend will really last
breathing softer and coughing less
could I be out of this mess?

it was way to calm
i could not hear a sound
then it happened the pure rush
of a perfect silence
in the middle of all that rain
i could not see anymore
i could not run anymore
it was what i had seen
what i needed to see
it was ripping me apart
waiting to hear that noise
just to hear something
that is what i needed
i just needed to know
that pain of not knowing
was way to intense to see
it was something interesting
something that could only
makes sense in that silence
it was what was central to my life
it was the idea that i could
not just move forward
but that i could move at all
it always seems that i have no choice
no path that is mine
and only mine in that time
what i had was simple it was real
it followed something
it held more than what you see
it knew me it held me
it was that part of me
that was more than i was
it reached out and was
what i could never be

1. The less I sleep the happier I am this is true, very true
2. I lived at Sigma Phi Epsilon for three years
3. I had my 21st birthday party at the Jayhawk Cafe (2001)
4. I am an Alumni of Delta Sigma Pi an international business fraternity
5. I hold an A+ computer certification for hardware and software repair
6. I am an Eagle Scout from boy scout troop 387 (1998)
7. I will graduate from the University of Kansas with a degree in Political Science (2003)
8. I have a minor in Public Service and Civic Leadership (2001-2003)
9. While I was hitting gold balls I got accepted to the KU masters in Public Administration (2003)
10. I want to become a professor in the field of public administration
11. Sometimes I cannot sleep because I have not written enough that day
12. I miss being able to talk to people about politics who have read enough to have something to say
13. Bars are boring and miserable places just from the lack of communication
14. I was an assistant debate couch for Shawnee Mission East
15. My debate partner in high school was Shahman Qadri at Shawnee Mission South
16. I was a national qualifier in Student Senate for the National Forensics League
17. I received a four year academic letter in Debate and Forensics
18. I received a Quadruple Ruby in the National forensics League
19. I was the first presiding officer at the senate EKNFL District congress (Spring 98)
20. I qualified to the state debate tournament all four years of high school (96-99)
21. Model United Nations was a hobby of mine and we took first delegation in Springfield Missouri (Fall 98)
22. Directed the 31st and 32nd annual Gerald Ashen Memorial Debate Tournament
23. Involved in the Kansas Society for Professional Engineers Bridge Building (Spring 98)
24. Member of the International Club at Shawnee Mission South (1998)
25. Attended Politically Active Youth (1998)
26. Involved in the Bridge Club (1998)
27. Shahman made me do South?s Appreciation for Nonwestern History (1998)
28. While I am by no means an athlete I did Junior Tennis League (1993-1998)
29. Went to Stanford Debate Institute Swing Lab (Summer19 98)
30. Was at the National Debate Institute, Washington, DC (Summer 1997-1998)
31. Participated in Scouting for Food (1993-1997)
32. Through church Johnson County Human Services and Aging Agency: Elderly food delivery (1993-1998)
33. Ethan Allen Scholarship recipient from the school of Public Administration (2002)
34. Did my Research Practicum with Ray Davis Department of Public Administration (2003)
35. Vice President of Technology for Delta Sigma Pi Professional Business Fraternity (2000-2001)
36. Vice President of Fianc?or Delta Sigma Pi Professional Business Fraternity (2002)
37. House manager of Sigma Phi Epsilon Social Fraternity (1999-2000)
38. Built the Sigma Phi Epsilon Social Fraternity House internet project (2000)
39. Vice President of Finance Sigma Phi Epsilon Social Fraternity (2000-2002)
40. ?Sophomore of the year,? Kansas Gamma Chapter of Sigma Phi Epsilon
41. Member of the National Deans list (1999-2003)
42. Grant Consultant for Grandview Park Presbyterian Church, Kansas City, KS (2002)
43. Ongoing volunteer work at Shawnee Mission South, judging for debate tournaments and sponsoring tournament travel
44. Brandon Woods Retirement Center, Pumpkin Carving (1999 ? 2001)
45. Sigma Phi Epsilon Project for the Boys and Girls Club (1999 ? 2001)
46. Participated in the undergraduate research symposium at the University of Kansas (2003)
47. Presented the Workplace Literacy research to Kansas City Consensus board of directors (2003)
48. Have not had a hourly job this decade and don’t plan on doing that either
49. Developed wrote and designed www.civichonors.com
50. Member of the www.mayofia.com project and director of the first Mayofia productions film
51. Designed and implemented www.shalunkyvision.com even made him do one of these lists
52. Have never been involved in a protest of any kind not on the internet
53. I am a big fan of the Chinese buffet
54. my father has a degree in nuclear engineering and a masters in business administration
55. my mother has degrees in counseling psychology
56. My favorite Chinese food restaurant is Bolings
57. I once had a Diablo character named angrypimp that was 8th in the world
58. Have been one a west wind tour of the white house
59. Never have been inside of a Ferrari
60. Judged at the St marks debate tournament
61. I will give up a battle but not a war
62. Speed reading is the only way to go
63. I have had Zinc poisoning during a debate tournament
64. Sweet home Alabama was the debate theme song
65. In high school I had the biggest crush on Meredith Schnug
66. My favorite colors are water tones
67. I think more than I speak
68. I wish I had more time to write but I don’t’ have that much spare time
69. I try to come up with at least an idea a day and that takes a bit of effort
70. I am my harshest critic at all time and for no apparent reason
71. My nickname in little league was the wall
72. For awhile I wanted to be a NFL kicker
73. I don’t like lecture classes at all
74. I wish I could work as hard as my hero Eurdish
75. Bob Knight is my favorite basketball coach even though I go to the University of Kansas
76. I am only good at speed chess the longer the game goes the worse I get
77. My migraine headaches are so bad sometimes they last for days
78. I have never wanted to be an astronaut but I do respect them
79. I cannot handle not doing anything it is the worst thing that can happen
80. I am a member of two LUGS
81. Went to the Red hat united sates tour at the Free State Brewery
82. I don’t like larger groups of people they make me nervous
83. I listen to the doors and death metal but I am not sure why
84. I own a Gibson Les Paul Custom that I bought in high School
85. I have built my own guitar out of peaces and a lot of sanding
86. If I am not talking I am thinking and that should scare you
87. I am a big fan of meeting new people on a daily basis
88. I am not sure which book I like better dune or the hobbit
89. I value my time as much as I value my freedom
90. My computer is custom built and sometimes runs Linux
91. My favorite drink is a tom Collins
92. I love to sit and watch the rain
93. More often than not I am either writing or sleeping
94. I will only watch fox news or CSPAN
95. I don’t like public television or sitcoms because they just waste your time
96. My Motto is, “If its worth doing it is done…”
97. I like gun shows better than computer shoes because there is less junk
98. I really want a puppy or a house trained dog
99. I worked construction for my uncle for one day before I could not handle
100. I think I like to read these lists better than write them

Albert wakes up every day knowing that when he gets on the bus to go to school he only has one task. The only way for Albert to succeed in life is for him to follow the rules of the school. He has to work very hard on every project he is given and try to improve each and every day. The only problem is that every day it is the same project is given to Albert. The school wanted him to reinvent the wheel every single time he went to class. Every day he was asked to produce and what was required of his production was not only simple but it was so monotonous that it nearly drove him mad. He took time to sit back and think about what was really going on within the school. He realized that nobody really wanted to create anything new that it was more about recreating the past and through that he was supposed to be able to see something new. Albert could not figure out how he was supposed to ever know where what was already done stopped and what he was really doing started.

Every single day the wheel was reinvented and every single day it was a festive occasion at the school everyone was so proud of Albert. He was considered one of the finest students to ever study at the school. Now from time to time Albert would really show off and would reinvent the wheel twice in the same day. This was unheard of at the school and Albert was made famous for what he could do, “How could anyone be able to invent the wheel twice in one day!” Before he knew it Albert was teaching other monkeys at the school. In a short amount of time Albert was instructing over half the school and nobody could ever figure out how he could invent the wheel twice in one day. It became an urban legend in the towns of the monkey’s people came from far and wide to ask Albert about what he had done. Now by this time Albert was getting really tired of not really do anything at first it was fun to show people how to invent the wheel, but after awhile he did have to try anymore.

During the second year of being a teacher Albert was even given assistants to help him teach about inventing the wheel. Now all Albert had to do was to have the assistants teach the other monkeys. Albert was so bored that he only slept all day every day he just slept in the trees. He even missed inventing the wheel it took Albert a long time in the trees before the school found him and told him that he could become the head of the school. That he would be in charge of all of the monkeys and that they wanted him to come back and work harder than ever. Now Albert was supervising all the monkeys and he needed to do something special. What he asked himself was did the school teach about inventing the wheel because the monkeys could not handle anything else? Or maybe could the monkeys learn about how the wheel was invented in the first place.

I stood looking into the eyes of the girl I had come to love more than any words will ever be able to describe. If you have ever truly loved someone you know the feeling that comes from being able to make perfect eye contact with that special someone. That warm knowing glance that can feel like it lasted forever and at the same time is over before you have time to blink. That feeling grabs you and can pull you into a level of comfort that seems to wrap up every care in the world. The problem with love is that it can be so blinding that you never really realize where you are. She called me again only this time it was not her voice that left me wishing I could see her in person it was the words that he heard over the phone. The phone is such an impersonal way to discuss matters of the heart that it should never be used to discuss anything that could end a relationship between two people.
She called me and said that she loved Zack who had tricked her into being in a relationship with her. Within a moment after hearing those words an avalanche of emotions poured down over me and I could not believe that she could ever be with him. What tore me apart was he had asked her to be in a relationship with him just a month before she decided that Zack was the right one for her. ?So I was thinking that we have spent so much time and shared so much. That it was time for us to stop pretending that we don?t want to be together and get engaged.? She replied to him in the same cold way that I was not used to at the time but now has become so much a part of what was their relationship that in some ways it has come to embody what they have left. To really understand the nature of the phone conversation we have to go back to the week after he proposed when we met for a nice Chinese dinner.
?So you changed your mind and want to get married to me huh??
?I don?t know what I want I just don?t think I have found myself yet.?
?Well if you feel like you love me and that you are comfortable with me, do you want to be in some kind of relationship with me. Maybe we can do the girlfriend and boyfriend thing for awhile??
?No, I don?t think we should do that I don?t want to be in a relationship right now it just is all wrong from. I would just not feel right being involved with you right now.?
?So what you are saying is that you think we should be dating then? That we need to start slow and work our way up to being in a full relationship. I understand that you feel the need for space, but don?t you think that we are right together??
?Nelson I don?t think that it matters what we are or what we do if you know that you love me and I love you does it matter what we are called. I just don?t know whom I am or what I want to do with my life. I am just not ready at this point in my life to make long term plans like that.?
At this point I did not know what to do she basically told me that she really did not want anything to do with me and that I did not matter to her. Now at the time I felt the need to rationalize that moment and I was an emotional wreck at the end of the conversation but I could not blame her for being confused. What made me feel this way was that after dinner we ended up sitting in my car and spending an hour or two not really talking or anything in particular. She just cried and held on to me it was really strange to hear the noise made by such uninhibited crying and the rapid out of breath whimpers that altogether encompass a feeling that cannot be explained. At this point I did not know what to do I love this girl and don?t want to loose her but at the same time it seems like she is trying as hard as she possibly can to loose me.
Now when I got that phone call I wanted to tell Nora that it was over that there was nothing left between us. That there is ?no we? in what she believes and what I dream. I wanted to say to her that there is no reason for me to want to be with her. Everything in my head every bit of logic I possibly posses tells me that I have to stop this relationship. That it is as unhealthy as anything could be. The one thing stopping me is that there is so little love in this world. That when you find what you think might be the best thing that will ever be in your life you have to hold on to it for all it is worth. Fighting to hold onto a slim chance at love can be a challenge. The hardest part is when you no longer fight the outside world and you start to fight yourself over what you know is the right thing and what your heart tells you to do. It is so hard to find out what you have to do to make everything ok and what it takes to let yourself believe that there is always another chance.
That is why when Nora told me that just a few weeks before when her car was broken down and she had been getting rides to her classes from her former boyfriend that he had slowly started telling her that he was interested in other girls and that she was becoming less important to him. This being as she described it an attempt to trick her into falling for him because he was no longer interested in her. Well whatever was going on it worked and she was going out with him. She was his girlfriend plain and simple. He had accomplished what I could not even despite the best of my efforts. I did not know what was going in her mind and it seems to me that I did not matter to her. In her world I really did not matter to her decisions. She would throw everything we had away for this Zack fellow and I don?t know what is so wrong with me that she would choose him over me.
I have never come in second in anything in my life the notion that I am not good enough is something is as hard to say, as it is to comprehend. My feeling of helplessness rested on the idea that there is nothing that can be done to do anything to make the pain go away. That everything is out of my hands and that I have no hope but to wait and see is something that just tears away your beliefs in people. You ask yourself if she really cared would she do that to someone she cared about. What may be the problem is that there is no logic to her need for finding herself. I was worried when she first told me that she wanted to take a trip to Italy I told myself that the only reason she wants to do that is to avoid taking hold of reality and attempting to cope with her life as she sees it. So she decides to take a trip to a foreign country where nobody will know her or judge her and her expectations of herself are liberated from her preconceived notions.
What drives me absolutely crazy about this idea is that she needs to get away to find herself is based on a notion it is never as good when you have it as it is when you loose it and realize what you had. It is so had to try and define the perspective that somebody else holds and what someone else believes. She also wanted to go away to school to Boston College no less than two thousand miles away from her family. I should have know she had significant commitment issues just based on how she deals with her family. She once called her mother flightily and said that she did not know what to do and that is she is deathly afraid of becoming her mother. Even claiming that her mother was never really a mother to her at all and that she was nothing more than an older sister. Even the way she avoids her grandparents and does not want to go to school anywhere near they could come and visit her because it is as if she is ashamed of whom she is and what she does in life.
She still lived with her mother in the basement of her duplex her mother spent as much time as possible working to provide for her two daughters and still be there when she could to fulfill the duties of being a mother. It seems to me that Nora feels the need to run away from everything she things that is or will become. The need to go to college somewhere else and find out what she wants and who she is can be directly related to the idea that she does not think she can know herself in her present situation. How she can think that be giving up everything she will have something I don?t know. What it means to her to be so confused about her life that she feels the need to through away everything that she has and run away to this new world with a guy who is less than man and more like a cretin.
Zack is a mother?s nightmare he is a lazy worthless musician who could barely pass high school let alone participate in the world of college. He is manipulative and deceptive and keeps her down by telling her that she is getting fat and needs to work out because if her body were a little firmer she would be sexier. I can honestly say that if I said things like that to her I would not ever be on speaking terms with her again. For what it is worth even after all the years and all the abuse I have taken from her what she was done to me and what she will do to me I have not only never yelled at her but never said anything that could be interpreted in the same way as so of the comments that he has made. I cannot believe that she would put up with a guy like that let alone pick him over me and that is the real issue that gets my blood boiling. How can I mean so little to someone that I love so much?
What I mean to her is absolutely nothing that my love and affection mean less to her than I could have ever imagined. I mean absolutely nothing to her. When she had mononucleosis I came over and visited her, I can tell you that it was not Zack. When she had her wisdom teeth taken out who cared her to the car and took her home, again I can tell you that it was not Zack. To have so much history and have it mean so little is a truly devastating thing to have happen.