So there we were, two souls, seemingly from different spectrums of spirituality. We were enjoying each other's company, thoroughly in fact. It was completely and openly clear that neither of us were the other's type, but that was perhaps what drew us together in the first place. We weren't an often occurance. We were completely undefined, random, and were only brought together by fate - every time. It was night time, and the spirits were high with those around us. Ours were always different from those swirling about us. She always seemed so above everything that was going on, even though she was buried deep under love issues, home issues, and -let's face it- more issues than there are of the New York Times. I always seemed preoccupied, quiet, "mysterious." We were mostly alone. Only with the company of each other, a grassy hill, the stars, the chill air, and the laughter and conversation of others.

Her enthusiasm, more than anything else, is what attracted me to her. Her enthusiasm towards me, that is. She acted as though she couldn't get enough, but was completely fine with going home without even a kiss. It was quite addictive. This night was one I needed, desperately. She sat next to me, my hand under the cover of her shirt, thawing with the warmth of her stomach. We sat mostly in silence, just existing with each other. Just sitting, breathing. Oxygen for me, tobacco smoke - her. Every time she breathed out, I was surrounded more and more by smoke and her own exhalation, swirling and mixing in front of me, in front of my eyes, crawling in my nostrils. It was like a drug. It didn't sting like the sting of a late-night bar, heavy with cigarette smoke and the vapors of alcohol. I've always been sensitive to smoke, but this cocktail she brewed was different. It made me feel calm, at ease. Like I could melt into the hill, and just.. Sleep.

I knew we weren't going home together. It wasn't what I wanted. As for her, I'm not sure; as I said, I think she would be fine either way. Not for me, though. It was enough to just have an experience like we did, to just be for a few hours. We would talk, but we don't have anything to say that the other would care to hear, mostly. So for twenty more minutes we sat and watched everybody mingle, and then slowly grow tired and leave. Eventually I got up, "Well, I guess it's about time for me to go.." Why? No reason. It wasn't, really, I just figured that was what was supposed to come next. When will I see you again was always the question. "I'm not really sure.. I'll keep in touch though." I knew I wouldn't, not because I didn't want to, but because I knew she didn't really care if we did or not.

We walked to our cars together, parked next to each other. I joked with small talk for a moment and then got my keys out, their jingle signifying my departure. She asked if she could sit in my car with me for a moment while she finished her cigarette, give my car a minute to warm up. I agreed, and was thankful to be out of the wind. Our kisses were completely and genuinely equal. Both of us putting as much effort into it as the other, and doing it not out of lust, not out of love of course, but simply to exchange the energy of one another. Simply because it was part of this experience I mentioned. It really was the perfect way to end our time together. And I speak not of the night in particular, but of our time in general, as I was certain I would never hear from her again. Of course, that was what I always thought when leaving after another run-in. I drove home that night, not feeling alone, not disturbed by the silence of having one less in the car, as we were mostly silent the entire night. I knew I shouldn't be driving in the state I was in, but for some reason I wasn't worried, and found that my car was quite easy to drive, considering.

Funny, I've never had a relationship like this with anybody else. Friends, acquaintances, family, girlfriends.. This person truly has created a category of her own. Unlike friends and lovers, she doesn't leave me yearning for more. I simply take our experience for what it is and generally don't think another thought about it, other than a fleeting, passing one. I only write about our experiences because I feel it somewhat adds to the fictionality of it all. I also imagine she would quite like that I've written about her. So here's to those lonely nights, full of heart-ache, when somebody comes to your rescue and bes with you. Takes the time out of their busy life to simply exist.

So I woke up feeling a bit xanthous this morning. Funny, xanthous was actually the Dictionary.com Word of the Day yesterday. It means "yellowish," and it's Greek in origin. I decided to do one of two things about this feeling: Either start a hit ABC TV series about it, or just write a blog on Myspace about it. So, due solely to insufficient funds, as I'd already put together an ensemble cast, wrote the script for the first two seasons, and got OK'd by the head of ABC, I decided to just write a blog.

I had a dream last night. Kinda funky, don't really want to go into all the details. I slept really fuckin good though. I fell asleep listening to my iPod, and woke up around two a.m. with Brad Paisley blaring his chickin' pickin' tune "Policeman" into my eardrums. I felt as though I was still asleep, and I fumbled with the buttons on my pod to get it to stop yelling at me, then reached over and clicked the lamp off. By the time the room was flooded with darkness, I was already back to my dream. Now things changed a bit. I was in an old mansion with a friend, I'm not sure who exactly, and we were running from something/somebody. We eventually ended up in a room we deemed safe, and my friend said to me "We've got to get in disguises!" So, instantly, we turned into pencils. Very cartoonish, but still, pencils. We laughed about it for a minute, and then began randomly changing our style of pencility: first we were the standard yellow with pink eraser, then we were purplish and swirly, then we had no erasers at all. We were having quite a good time with it, and that's about all I remember. I woke up, baffled that I had really just dreamed about being a pencil.

Now I'm faced with these thoughts: Aren't we all really just pencils? We write things, thoughts, ideas. Constantly expressing our feelings to one another, and then erasing them and re-writing. We can be just as brittle as them as well. Sure, you can shake us up and down and witness the illusion of flexibility, but in the end, we're all stubborn in our own ways and will break as soon as we're held in two hands with another hand karate-chopping us in the middle.

Please disregard everything in that last paragraph. I can't believe I really just compared people to pencils. I wasn't being serious though, really, just wanted to see if I could do it. So anyway, that was my dream. Hey! At least I didn't wake up feeling like a yegg, which is today's word of the day, right!? Look it up!

Ah, another late Thursday comes to an end... It's a love-hate kinda thing - staying at college late, that is... It's pretty interesting seeing all the monotonous people in the morning, rushing around trying to get to class, or the gym, or the hell outta here. Then after four o' clock, about 75% of all the students vanish into thin air and I feel like i'm in a ghost town for the rest of the day, not only because there's nobody around, but because, like I said, 75% of the kids' spirits vanished into the air, and I can still feel their anxiety and stress swirling about me... I don't let it enter into my body. I hold my breath for the next three hours and watch the other late-day kids zombie around the halls.
    A strange thing happened today.. It wasn't a "thing" in the sense that it was an occurrance that happened all at once.. It actually happened for about an hour, and the "thing" was an actual ... being. Not necessarily human, but it was at least a visible moving being. It was during that "ghost time," at about four thirty, that i first saw it. It was in a big black trench coat with a brown hooded sweater underneath. The hood was pulled up over its head, and there was a long nose/beak that protruded out from the shadow of the hood. It wasn't necessarily tall, and it wasn't really short... An average sized thing. I first saw him as i was computering on the third floor of the TLC, and i could see him stalking into the front doors as i was at a table looking out a wall-sized window that was aimed at the bustling street. I didn't really think much of the thing, as it wasn't really that outstanding, but minutes later i heard the elevator's high-pitched "ding" and watched it slink out of the doors only to seat itself in a nearby table. Unlike myself he had no laptop computer, no books, no energy drink or snack; it was simply sitting... Maybe watching me, but i couldn't see its eyes. Eventually i had to go refuel on guarana, taurine, and caffeine so i headed down to the lobby. After purchasing the Rockstar beverage i hummed a tune while i strolled over to the comfy seats in front of my last class. Since i was now a Rockstar, i imagined setting up my amplifier and guitar and playing a Rolling Stones song right there in the middle of the lobby.
    I snapped back into reality when i noticed the now familiar form of the thing that was again emerging from the elevator and heading my way... Once it got near, i guess near enough, it seated itself again across the hall in a seat similar to mine. Due to the indirect angle, i could tell now that it was looking at me, because it had it's hooded head cocked in my direction, his nose pointed right at me. At this point i was a little disturbed, not because i mind the attention, but this didn't look like the kind that i wanted. I decided i would find out once and for all if i was just paranoid, or if i indeed had my own personal stalker, so i stood and walked at soccer-mom power-walk speed towards the men's bathroom, about 200 feet away. Now i was feeling quite sure that the thing was not following me after all, because i didn't hear anything behind me, my hair wasn't standing on the back of my neck, and my ears weren't red so it at least wasn't talking about me. I felt sort of silly at this point, because i basically sprinted across the lobby toward the bathroom, so i slowed it down for the last few yards. I pushed the heavy door open and walked inside. Now it was time to turn and look to see for sure if he was there. I looked over my shoulder out the bathroom door and said something along the lines of "euh" when i saw the nose poking at me three feet away and closing. Just as it was about to... get me? ... i slammed the door with all my might, catching its nose in it. It let out a piercing scream and pulled its nose out the other side, allowing the door to shut. I stood there for about 27 seconds, just holding it closed and trying to listen to the other side.... There was nothing after the scream.
     At the 28th second, i opened the door and walked out cautiously, expecting to see a few quizzical faces wondering "what was that all about?" Most importantly, the thing was nowhere to be found. Next importantly, nobody seemed to notice, or at least wasn't phased by it. I looked down toward my classroom and i saw my zombie-like classmates scraping into the class, so i, too, headed that way. I continued out the rest of my day without seeing the thing again. Unfortunately for me, the victim, and for you, the reader, i don't have any other information about the thing other than the fact that i have named it "Thursday," and i've decided he is a male, because he was going to enter the men's room to get me. Hopefully Thursday and I will never have another run-in again, because i would hate to have to destroy him... And i would also hate to be scared so much again. However, i thank the stars at night for this experience, because i think it's good to be put in that type of situation every once in a while... Keeps us on our toes, you know? Anyhow, It's time to learn about the Get Low vs. New York case... Sounds interesting.