Well school is almost over, and by almost I mean 6 weeks away. But still things are starting to slightly slow-down (or perhaps it is just my idiotic wish that it would calm down :p)

I thought it would be beneficial to reflect on all that I have not done. Have failed to accomplish. Have tried to do. Have done, but incorrectly. Have done which has made me a worse person.

***

I thought at first that it would be a time to reflect upon all that I have grown over the year- but such a phrase would be idiotic. Stupid. Blatantly moronic. For this year at college has proven but one thing to me- that I am walking facade of Greco-Roman Enlightenment which covers a dilapidated shed of ignorance. How can I grow, change, better myself, when all I do is redecorate the portico which leads to only itself?

The pathetic excuse of a soul- the real soul- that dwells in this structure- is a hunchbacked wretched thing that can barely stand straight, much less engage in any sort of daily activities. It knows not even how to fix the shed in which it (fortunately) lives!

This repulsive apparition is unfortunately what I am. Could I help it? Janus stands in the doorway- but one face is covered- and not the face that points towards reality.

Occasionally the face is unmasked and it sees the truth. How painful it is. How ignorance is bliss. "Cover me," it cries. "Cover me! For I wish not to see this vile image burned into my eyes."

And it is covered again.

Forgot.

Ignorance is bliss.

But the mask is not strong enough, for it slips off. And again the painful truth of my life is revealed.

*

I thought that I had removed the mask and had come to peace with myself. But how wrong I had been! It is even more grotesque. More vile than ever before. (I do believe that it has Leprosy).

This is me? Why must it be me? Can not it go to a picture? But it already has- it has gone to this, this sty behind the columns the cherubs and stability. Under the heart it sits, warming itself by the fire- blackening my heart.

Prepare the red paint! The Queen of Hearts must not see her palace like this!

And so it is painted. So the illusion goes. A vicious cycle of tormented realization, cover-ups and redecoration of any already too Rococo architecture. A misshapen Pearl!

***

I dreamt of a world. A world far-away from the one that I hated so much. How I dreamt that I could fly from there and never return. And I did.

It was off to college. With me came my than undying hope, my humor, my conviviality, my joy, and the knowledge of my escape from that place which I had cursed for so long.

How I remember the first day. The sun shine. The faces. The excitement. Ruskin you failed me that day! But perhaps the day before, the rain, the cold, perhaps that the day I was supposed to see. Not the happiness.

The first person I met here was a girl named Heather. During Winter she attempted to commit suicide and had to leave home after a second failed attempt. When I sat next to her that faithless morning I could have begun to have even fathomed this possibility.

How my excitement was childish! A new place! Then the phone Rang.

It was Chris. The person whom I had met online a month prior. Did I know that he would seduce me and never speak to me again. Thus being the first to show to me what I had entered. A life of lies. A life of deceit.

Thursday. The gay meeting. How happy I was- finally to be able to be open. But here what did I find? The creatures which I had refused to see in myself.

I covered Janus' eyes with lead.

Thanksgiving. Stayed on the deserted campus. Three days of utter-introspection. The empty campus a image of my dying soul. The leaves giving way. The wind stealing away my beloved hope, and the ice freezing my joy.

Two days before I leave for home for Christmas. Robert, a freshman at another dorm jumps from the 12 story building to his death at 3:30 in the morning. I never met Robert.

Christmas break. The incrusted joy begins to melt and show itself. A usually coming-out free holiday spent conversing with relatives in half-truths. Oh yes, I love school. Oh yes, the work is hard. Oh yes, I have plenty of friends.

Over break I find out that Charles, a junior in the college, commits suicide a few days before Christmas.

January 2003. Fly back to hell. Over the next few weeks, ice, snow, wind and the cold cover me. Karl. A second year PhD student kills himself in his apartment in February.

March. Warm weather comes, hope and joy do not. Over Spring Break get contacts, and visit doctors. Perhaps I will escape from the cavern that I had fallen into.

Wednesday of last week. Kyle, a junior whom I had met who lived in my dorm, dies of an ongoing illness.

This Quarter. Attempted to return to the gay meetings. But could not. The reason? ...

*
In six weeks I leave.

What do I leave with? None of that which I came with!

Hope was lost too soon. Humor has wizened, conviviality has become depression, and joy? Joy through suffering is the only joy I know of now.

But how?

I had left the place that had caused so me so much pain? Surly for that I am grateful?

No.

That which we think we despise, we realize we loved the most when it is taken away from us and given a substitute.

How childish? Is the gimp speaking? The Ogre? Or the Queen?

Neither. This is truth.

Sometimes one can only truly see what we have by taking it away; unfortunately, however, to take it away means we can never truly appreciate what we once had.

How I appreciate nothing! The days are but boxes on a piece of paper that hangs above my desk. Each day that passes is a day closer to the funereal. To the termination of a useless creature- pitiable and wretched. One which says "it was a shame that he never..." "How sad he never..."

Life is not about what you never do, but what you make of it. I have the golden ball- you have thrown it to me. But my hands grow weary of it weight.

I stand on the edge, but my head grows tired from looking down.

I move forward. But my feet grow tired of moving.

Gradually I slow down.

Slower.

Until finally-

as though there were a wall.

I

Stop.

eTgen