Fishbowl.

Once upon a time, I spent my evenings as a Writefag for Gurochan, catering to the Freak board. Having been inspired to pursue medicine by the exploits of Nurse-kun and Ampu-tan in the acclaimed Copypasta, Damaged Goods, I guess it wasn't at all surprising that I wrote about amputees. I had this running deal about this guy, Dr. Michael Whitcomb who lives this overshadowed little existence behind this other doctor who regales, mildly illegally, the staff with his exploits about the recovery of a woman who has lost her arms.

I had this part where Michael Whitcomb kind of walks about in a daze - all the people look the same in their blue-green scrubs, he eats at work because he has no wife, and the fluorescent lighting gets to him, sometimes, by making the entire hospital look like a fish-tank, which he kind of likens the hospital to.

I'm feeling kind of Fishbowl, tonight:

I have an Ace Bandage and a Liquid Adhesive patched under my arms - it feels I'm wearing a rubber-band, and while I wish I had some cool, righteous story for it, it was actually pretty embarrassing. I had to lose my body-hair so I didn't yank it out while making my Atlas sculpture, and since I'd spent the evening prior discussing staying smooth and my devotion to the razor, I figured, "Why not?"

I tried a Hair-Remover upon getting frustrated with my razor's limited reach and, well...
It wound up mixing with my antiperspirant and giving me some rather nasty chemical burns. I had to strut about with my hands on my hips all day, to keep the blistered spots from sticking to my belly, but now that I have it all bandaged, I'm feeling pretty good. Embarrassed, but good.
...Now I remember why that razor was so trusty - Razorburn and Chemical Burns aren't in the same ball-park.

Charles is out - he left at 2:00 AM on a bus-ticket for Kansas City. It's quieter, now, and my parents joke that all they have to do is convince me to take the dog to College, and they'll have a peaceful home.

I've renewed a few of my applications online, and I'm going to contest the others with some walk-in Interviews. I'm feeling good, though I worry I may cripple one of my more project-based courses, because I know a film-unit is approaching fast. I suppose I can stand to be miserable, though - I need money: New York isn't free, and I'll be happier to have earned it. I'll try to juggle.

I listened to a rather sad tale about a sexually-confused girl named Brayden Dailey. I don't remember much of it, but she was very hopeful, and traded a very stable relationship for the company of someone who'd used her for quick cash...
There are some people I know - I worry about them, because they're Brayden Daileys. They're genuinely kind, attractive people who just let their lofty little imaginations get a little too far ahead of themselves, and I worry that they might find themselves robbed and regretful.

Heh - I feel a little hypocritical: the last line I'd heard that made my heart skip a beat was, "Enjoy your dreams, boy."

Aaron and I chummed it up, today, and he said something that really stuck me - he was talking about how Matt hates my guts, but he said he sort of stood up for me. I'm by no means perfect, and it's taken some time to escape naivete, but he just really championed for me - I hope he's done right by himself to do so.

Honored to call you friend, Cap'n.

The AP's coming soon - I happened to be the only one in the district to earn maximum recognition and a bit of college credit off of it the year prior, and they've actually relaxed the terms for success, now. I think I may try to take it again, and earn more. Being exempt from Lit/Comp courses will be nice, and they always give you the opportunity to have your results mailed into the places you'd like to attend - I got props from the U of S that way.

A second ACT's around the corner, too - I'd like to retake that, but I'll unfortunately have to pay for it, since I don't qualify for any financial aid programs, like Free or Reduced Lunch, yet. I scored a solid twenty-seven last time, but with all of these quick-read skill that leave me a little under a minute for each question, I'm hoping to compensate my math deficiencies with a solid score everywhere else, so I can get a thirty-one, which offers me a "Free-Ride Scholarship"; it's exactly what it sounds like, free College.

In closing, today was a day of beautiful sounds. I decided, around 3:00, that I would sit out in the rain until 5:00, and listen to the trains. It was really great - the trees sounded like waves on the beach when the wind blew hard, and my face was damp, and my hair kept blowing out from behind my ears. I sat down at the transit, soaked.

This guy there; he "swings that way", so to speak, and he goes:
"...You're all wet, and you have a popped collar. My, aren't you studly?"
I told him I'm chasing birds and Degrees, but that I was flattered.

All of these things have been kind of floating around in my head, sort of disorganized. I haven't really been able to focus, because I'm living off cold-syrup, coffee, and soup - fish-bowl, see?

I have this big, skull-bowl full of thought-fishes, just passing eachother, but never really forming one school.

Do What Makes You Happy.

I have embarked upon the most selfish of efforts, tonight.

Our orders to Syracuse have been changed:

The order was initially for a Senior Master Sergeant - my Father's rank - and would pay somewhere around $4,000, while putting me very close to all my endeavors.
It fostered this sense of safety, and safety allows me to neglect the supposed youthful mistakes that are duty-bound to arise around one my age.

The order is now tailored for a Master Sergeant - it is still available to us.
If we take it, my father will be making $1,600, and he and my mother - I will not say 'Us', because that will be something I will try and escape in New York - will still be subject to the moving fees that they are still mildly haunted by, because the price for us, as a whole, to move here was rather respectable.

Our family has once again resumed this state of Coals.
My father is most troubled - he brings up the moving expenses, the flatlining pay.

My mother tries to encourage my sister and I - she says we may take Syracuse at a loss, and that there is still a wild-card chance that my father's associates can put the job back to the Master Sergeant rank.

My sister told me she was sorry for me.

There's just a bunch of swarming lights, like when you stir coals. I can't make sense of it, and neither can my family.

However, I have resolved it: I am going to New York.

"I came here alone after graduating from a European college. I had a difficult struggle, earning my living at odd jobs, until I could make a financial success of my writing. No one helped me, nor did I think at any time it was anyone's duty to help me."

It is not anyone's duty to help me.
I will not plead with my parents to have them do anything at a deficit for me.
I think. I am. I will.

I will it.

I will do what I can, for what I may earn, and it will be mine.
I will undergo the difficult struggle for what I desire.

The education I want - I will make it.
The career I want - I will have it.
The person I want - I will meet him.

Throughout the centuries
There were men
Who took first steps
Down new roads
Armed with nothing
But their own vision.

May I be one of them.