I just went to a high school football game at Lake Brantley with Lauren, Philip, and Ryan. I went there to see Jenn do her flag routine, and of course she did an amazing job. I think I ignored her a little, in trying to let Ryan have his time with her before he leaves. Christina was another matter. I hate vibes and I despise concerns. I'm still in a great mood. I got to see all my old band friends, and this has filled me with joy. The show is great, my section is sounding awesome, and everyone is still just as amazing and friendly and kind as I have always thought. I rejoice in my memories of band. I know I've said it before, but if life worked the way I wished it did, band is the only thing I would relive without a change. I'm going to a Cutaway show Sunday, I think. I can hardly wait.

Jill didn't want to go to the game tonight because she wants to go to the later ones, when the show is better. She didn't want to go to too many of them because she didn't want to be one of those people. I've been rolling that comment over in my head. While in band, those people were a foreign entity who were written off as creepy for hanging around the band for whatever reason. The reason never mattered, they were just creepy and that's all she wrote. The point is, now that I'm no longer in band, or high school for that matter, I can think of a few reasons why one would want to hang around. Most, I imagine, want to relive the experience. I, upon that, want to see my old friends, most of whom are now seniors. Once they are gone, I won't be going back again. Nevermind that. The point is this: rather than becoming or not becoming one of 'those people', dire fate though it is, I understand the mentality much better. Maybe some in band will think of me the same way that I once thought of the Byrnes, for example. I don't mind, because some day they won't be in band anymore, and so some day they will have to understand as I do. I've only got a little time left before these friends of mine graduate and are lost to me, and I won't sacrifice a single opportunity to see them over being labelled. Food for thought.

I'm too tired to see straight or type much further, and I have to get up in six hours to go to French class. Maybe I'll remember what else it was I was going to say next time I go to post. Until then, good night and take care.

This post is going to last only until Kevin calls me. I'm hanging out with him, Chris, Chris' girlfriend, and Jenn tonight, and then eventually Philip, and perhaps Christina. I'm going to give Jacob a call as well.

The summer has faded away. No epiphany is realized, no great questions answered. Nothing was expected. I wish my psychic buddy had been right, for one reason against another, but I don't believe in him anyway. The only things I believe in are those that are reasoned to me or those that I experience. I think I might conduct Philip's experiment over the next few months, but short of that my trust in novelty has waned and been summarily ousted.

Most people like to talk about being at a crossroads, about making decisions that they feel will affect the rest of their lives. Whatever, it's a drama thing. Right now, I'm very specifically not at a crossroads. I'm walking along in a forest, pretending to see paths as I go, hoping my subconscious will see me clear. I feel as though nothing important could possibly hinge on my decisions in this place, and that feeling enforces a great apathy upon me. The more time goes by, the more I let the drama pass through me. It's not maturity to let things go, it's plain and simple exhaustion. Maturity is in omission from the outset, something yet elusive in all I have seen.

Kevin hasn't called yet, but Jacob just did. I'll go get him in an hour or so.

I'm sitting here going through old video tapes and wondering how my tastes could have been so awful. I find a place for bad movies and such among my current likings because I don't want to have wasted my time, my efforts, or my memories on that which does not interest me. I have to wonder whether I would like Babylon 5, the object of a powerful obsession, if it had fallen into my lap now instead of nine years ago. I just found an episode loaded with episodes of The Tick from Comedy Central, back when they still played the cartoon nightly. We're probably watching that tonight at some point, if other plans fail. I look at The Tick and say, "Hey, that's not so bad, I like things like that even today!" At a certain point, though, I wonder how much of my tastes today are relics of past mistakes, whether my sense of humor would be as it is had I not wasted hours ingraining my skull with similar humor back when I didn't know the difference. In short, how much of our tastes are legitimate and how much are simply rationalized to preserve our sense of security, our illusion that we were always acceptable?

Kevin still hasn't called.

I'm still a bit mentally burned out from the programming tryouts yesterday. There were eight problems. I solved five of them. It landed me a low and precarious sixth place, but I'll take it. I look forward to being on the team, although I wonder how much I will yearn for free Saturdays. I can see most of my friends during the week, but my 'J' friends I can only see on the weekends, really: Jill, Jackie, Jacob - even Jenn lately. I can't express how wierd it is to think of the Casey household as "Denny's house" and "Jenn's house" at the same time.

Kevin is persistently and deliberately not calling. I'm convinced.

I'm having a little fun experimenting with ways of thinking. I've tried in recent years to view the world in an open, multi-faceted, Ender-esque sort of sense. It is a quite self-defeating philosophy, to those interested, to consistently think of as many different versions of a person as possible, while remaining consistently convinced that none of them are truly right. Hope, utility, lies in the thought that one just might be, and that the world is a much more open place when other human beings are mysteries rather than catalogue entries. I find an unfortunate and inexplicable loss of self in the process, and this has worried me slightly. In thinking of others as indescribable, I begin to consider myself in the same sense. I can no longer categorize myself, align myself in one way or another. I am just as fluid to myself as others are to me. There is freedom and danger in such an attitude. Freedom comes from the idea that one is not limited to any method of behavior, that there is no modus operandi for human life. The danger is in the thought of slipping from the abstract and subconscious boundaries that are there to limit us all. If I do not categorize myself as a law-abiding person, what prevents me from committing crimes? If I do not think of myself as a good friend, what is there to keep me from being a jerk?

Kevin, you've got five minutes before I'm calling you.

I've strayed from the point slightly. What I've been doing lately is scaling the world in my head. Follow along.

The world isn't such a large place, really. Think of it. Drew, Jeff, Ming, and Alan live in Gainesville, only a few hours away. I could go to visit them right now. Denny is at Duke, that's less than half a day by car. I could leave for there this very minute. TJ is only in Boston, that's not even an entire day's drive. I could go get my keys, step into my car, and just drive. I would be there by this time tomorrow. What about Yellowstone park in California? That's only a day and a half. I always say how much I want to go back there, to climb Vernal falls again and look out upon the misty rainbows. Why, I could go there! There's more to see, though. What about Quebec, where they speak French, the language I'm learning. There's hardly a single obstacle between here and there. What about South? I could drive straight through to Mexico, see the Yucatan. I could keep going, drive over the Panama Canal, down to the rainforests of Brazil, the Peruvian straights, the ranges of Argentina. Plane tickets aren't that much, I could sell my laptop and go over to Europe once I'm done. I could see Stonehenge, the Eifel Tower, the Berlin Wall, Vatican City, the Swiss Alps. What about Asia? I've always wanted to go to Japan, India, Thailand, China, and New Zealand. Sidney is probably pretty nice this time of year, and I have always wanted to visit Australia. None of this is beyond my grasp...

Ah, wait... I have classes on Wednesday. I only have a little money, and I can't afford to let my grades drop. I can't sell my laptop, I'm still paying for it and I need it. I'm not entirely sure my car could handle a trip to Gainesville, let alone Duke or BC. I don't have the time or money to go anywhere. I'd need a passport, anyway, and that would be a hassle. I'd have to make arrangements for people to take care of things while I was away. I can't afford in time or money to go anywhere for more than a couple of hours, let alone a few weeks. The world is a huge place, with six billion people, thousands of languages, cultures, and religions. Winter Springs is my cage. I am a small person living in a small town, tending to my small life while the world mocks me from afar...

The world seems so readily available to me when I think of things that first way. I try to hold it as long as I can, to let my imagination run wild in the playground of the mind, before I snap back to the cold reality inherent in the inevitable. One day, I want my life to cater to that playground.

That's it, I'm calling.