Meekland

I am getting settled in here quite nice. The people are friendly and the case managers are great. I hope that my confidence and motivation stay with me as I get more familiar. I had a good day in church yesterday. The pastor talked about loving others as he loves us. Unconditionally and with evidence of that love. Not just words. Thats a hard one to prove. Just wanted to catch up. I am feeling good and hope to stick with my plan.

REASSURANCE

Its 1:10pm on July 25, 2009. I am sitting at the library checking all my stuff. i talked to pearl. shes 2 months pregnant. im bored of writing now. jsut wanted this to be updated. sorta.kindablah

4:32am

I was tossing and turning in bed about an hour ago. i was dreaming about a combination if school and my mom and brother smoking pot. in a house that was a combo of both grandparents. for some reason a guy in it was bothering me hanging out whereever i went. and this room had just had a bachelor party i was supposed to sleep in. smelled of cum. gross. the smell i couldnt get out of my head as i was trying to sleep. in the dream and out. i kept waking up and turning over trying to get the smell out of my nose. the more i woke up the more i realized i had to pee. i went into the bathroom and coudlnt find the toilet paper. the smell was overwhelming. its hard to go over this. im feeling like i want to puke. i wont go over it i dont want to trigger myself again. i had a flashback in the bathroom. it freaked me out. so now im awake. sometimes it hurts so much that i cant feel anything else.

12:44pm

I was thinking about the audio clip that my aunt sent me of john and me at the beach when I put my finger in the bird poo. That was funny.

I actually slept last night like a normal person. I went to bed when Jason did and got up in the morning at 10. Scary. I am trying to put the audio clip on here but I am not sure it is going to work. Nope it didn't. Oh well the picture is here.

Anxiety

Aww aren't the puppies cute. This is the other day when Jason and I both took them out. Malaika loves the sun. And Gretta is never serious, so this is cute.
It is about 2pm and I have an appointment today. I am feeling like I don't want to go. I am feeling like i don't want to stay sober. I just want to screw it all. I don't like the new room. It feels icky. But I was icky when I went so maybe if I go when I'm not it will feel better. Maybe she put her decorations back up. I hope so. Last night was bad. I couldn't shake my stuff. I keep thinking about disturbing dreams and weird memories. Can I let go of the rope long enough to forget without falling into the abyss that is my brain. Brain fart. Forage a kiss lick for my middle. Crap made out of oragami smells too.

9:11pm

Well I hope this embedded puzzle works. lets see. im listening to coast to coast and this strange chic is talking about some vortex golden poker game.

DADDEO

i just gave my dad the address to here. I love him. He is such a good person. I mean even if he wasnt my dad id think so. I really like that his heart is open. I know that anything he can do for me he would. I know that hes there for me. I really am lucky to have him in my life. We arent perfect, but who is. And what other dad would pay for 3 tows? hes what he is. and i love that about him. I dont know of any other place i can go where I can feel welcome and not judged and not asked a million questions. I appreciate his frankness and his privacy. I only hope other gals dad's are as mine is. again im lucky that my dad is who he is.

2 in the mo

Im just sitting here. it is 2 am. or a little after. I tried watching tv and going on pogo. they both just made me do other things. i am thinking of making bacon. isnt that weird. jason and i fought again. i just want to be ok. i dont want to be dealing with this extra stuff. its like the computer and then this. its a little to dramatic. i dont know what to do about it except jsut support jason. i know abotu anger and rage. and i feel i cant judge him on it. it just makes me freak out. in the moment im just wanting to leave. who wouldnt. its not like violence is a stranger to us. just something that we usually share. or know. i dont know. im here murphy trying to eat our food. hes so lame. and gretta is sleeping in the way comfy place that is the dogs bed. i made it so great. i want to sleep with them. im beingnegative more thatn i usually do. i guess becuase im hurt or its an excuse im not sure. im just letting it go. mean he was really upset and is that enough for me to say hey ok its cool im here. i dont know. shuld i accept things becuase i can dish out really starnge things? thats what my dad says. but hes no expert on anything. i mean are my shortcomings allowing jason to be rude to me? i mean do i have to accept his stuff becyase he may accepts ome of mine? they are not the sa,e to me. . they are not alike. i mean i can see if we had the exact problems......but this is so differnt. i hate this. i hate defending. i hatre making excuses and making him seen ok. bacon here i come. its cooking now. about 3 peices. man im a fat pig with a propensity towards sloth and procrastination. jason probably will wake up becuase im making a high sound food.

Sneezy Morning

I am sitting here thinking. Oh man. Again. Its the morning time and my fears have followed me here. For some reason I couldnt do anything after Jason left this morning. I tried going back to sleep but that was futile. I get so sleepy on the couch. I dont know why I just dont sleep on the couch like I used to. I know better. I have to call this assesment place to see if I can come in after my lawyer appt tomorrow. I hope I can. But I'm not sure. I guess I can call right now since I am talking about it and wont forget in this moment. Till you said forever. I cant find my wallet. Ugh. Thats lame becuase i think the info is in it. OK it wasnt but that still sucks that I cant find it. I called and left a message. Funny I am calling the drug and alcohol assement feeling crazy. hmmm do you think i have a problem. It is almost ironic in a tragic way. i think i want to eat some pasta roni or some rice a roni.

Home

Jason is making a dumbass of himself. He said he wanted to clean today. So he is. I told him I would do a few things but didn't feel like doing anything. He said he was ok with me just watching but I know he isnt. I just dont want to do anything just like any other day. His cleaning doesnt inspire me to clean. Nothing does. He asked me what he should do with the stuff in the hallway so I told him and he freaks out that I said we shouldnt put it in storage. He says I am bitching at him. So he says to just go in my room and leave him alone. I went to my computer and shut up. Now he says Im annoying him here. Just sitting quietly. He asked me to put his clothes in the dryer and he just did it himself. So I dont know what that is about. I told him id do it. Whatever. People always never trust me. It is always the same. I do things my own way and its not fast enough or good enough for anyone. I am sorry but I cant be who he wants me to be. I knew hed be an asshole if he cleaned. Thats why I didnt want him cleaning. He has never cleaned and just did it. Now he is talking to me again. Why? I guess I should listen. Jesus he is diluted. He wont shut up. He is really lame. He doenst know what he wants. I can't just sit here and be quiet when hes being an idiot. I guess thats what he wants me to be. a quiet little girl. Someone he doenst have to listen to that he can just use and do whatever he wants. I am not porn. I do talk and have feelings. Opinions that he cant seem to deal with. He always has to bring in the worst things and all of the things that might hurt me or make me mad or make me look bad. Icant just jump up when he wants me to. espically if he tells me to just relax or leave and shut up. When i do that he is still all bent out of shape. He says its always about me. But he is the one who makes at all about me. He never deals with his own crap. Its always my feelign and my crap. Never does he think maybe hes being dumb. I am the one who is crazy and needs to change. All I am doing is writing. And he cant take me jsut sitting while he plays martyr. Oh Lord almighty he is cleaning....what a perfect specimen of man. He just shines because he cleans once every 6 months. whew i cant compare to him. he is a god. im drinking. he even said earlier that maybe i should drink so i am less uncomfortalbe. and then now he brings up how hes so hurt by me drinking. god. pick a story and stick with it. please pick something that you beleive in. make a decision what the heck you feel. cuz lord knows i have no idea. i get so many stories...its all confusing. and quite frankly annoying as heck. oh now hes done cleaning. he put some boxes away and cleaned some cans up. gee hes a cleaning marvel. i do more than that when i clean and that is more often. oh yeah but i dont work and he works 2 jobs as he reminds me so much. so his cleaning counts for gods work. i forgot he is so much more special and everything he does counts ten fold. then im the one being an ass. i know if i ask him for the keys hell say no. that im acting crazy that we have no gas that some other excuse.....anything but ok here you go. the asshole, the controlling asshole. i dont know why im here. love.....ha....what a joke. who woulda thought love would keep me anywhere. well also my lack of motivcation and lack of money and lack of a car keeps me here too. asshole.

Jeff

“Cassi put your clothes on please! Get out of the water and put your clothes on.” Jeff yelled from the sandy beach.
“Whooooo! I gotta swiiiim! Wait for the clothes Jefffffffffffy!” I yell back to Jeff, slurring my words as I flail about in the Folsom Lake water.
“Come on, we need to go. Just walk to me and we will get you dressed.” He pleaded.
“I loooooooooooove the water!” The alcohol was taking great affect now. I attempted to start walking towards Jeff.
“There you go, just keep doing that.”
“The water is making me fall, Jeff!” I yelled up to him as I fell over and over again.
“Just walk right to me, and I’ll wrap this towel around you, ok?” He held out a big white towel, he was but three feet from me.
“I tired!” I plopped down into the shallow water, sinking slightly into the sand.
“Cassi, you are so close just a little more, come on!” He already has his dry clothes and shoes on and did not intend on getting wet again.
“Kay, sheeeeeesh. I’ll come.” I crawled towards him slowly, my hands disappearing in the dark silty sand.
“There you go, ok up now, good good.” He lifted me into the towel as I got close to him.
“Jefffff, thank you for you being you know a person that is good and you.” I mumbled to Jeff as we walked to my clothes.
“Shhh. Let’s just get you dressed and home ok?” He handed me my shirt.
“Kay, Jeff.” I put my shirt on, while he handed me my pants.
“Be careful.” He said as I fell back on the sand one leg in my jeans the other out.
“Heeeheeee!” I giggled. I quickly put the other leg in.
“Cassi, ok lets walk now. Get up and lets go to the car.” He put his hand out for me to grab.
“Jeffffff!” I yelled at his head.
“Cassi, shhhh! Let’s just get to the car. We can talk then, ok?” He said quietly to me. His grip on me tightened as we headed up the hill to the car.


I yelped out in pain as the edge of the paper slid underneath my skin. The blood seeped out just above the rim of the small cut. I was looking through old pictures. I never was one to keep my pictures organized, although I had been planning to do it for a long time. I sucked on my finger and came across a picture of him. I hadn’t thought of him in quite a long time. I stared at the Polaroid for a few minutes, just remembering how nice he was to me. I wondered if he ever thought about me. I took my finger out of my mouth. I wondered if he only remembered the weird/bad/lame things about me. I shook my head and looked at my finger. It was now soggy and had those wrinkles on it like when you take a long bath. I put the picture down on my bed, his face covered slightly by my white comforter. I moved it. A lot of my friends had told me just to forget about him; to just move on. I really didn’t want to. I wanted him to be nice to me again. I wanted to be nice to him. I always knew that I could be there for him, but never quite was. I wondered if he knew that. I ran my finger over the picture. A small smear of blood ran across his face. I quickly wiped it away onto my white comforter.


Why do we do this to each other? We can connect in such a way, but not know it. Our hearts can feel it, but our brains refuse to let us enjoy it. I have met so many incredible people in my short time on Earth, and I know that I will meet so many more, and out of all of them I know, really know, about 2 of them. Maybe it is just me. But then why do you see close-knit friends in groups of two and three. We give ourselves to no one. We are selfish in that respect. It is the most frustrating thing. If we can just open ourselves to the possibility of knowing someone, maybe connection can be more than just Starbuck’s coffee and talk of the weather. So many times there has been a person in my life who I would want to know, want to talk to, want to know what makes them tick, want to have them know exactly what I need when I got a bad grade on a test, want to have a serious connection with. And I let something like differences of opinion on abortion make me loathe them. I let something like my own fears drive them away. Who will ever win? Fear will.


I remember being scared when I was little. I used to be scared of monsters in my closet and flesh-eating bugs under my bed. Those were such raw fears. You knew what you were scared of; you were scared of being eaten, or being dragged to some monster land to be made a slave. These were real fears. When you were a kid these were real fears. As we grow older those fears dissipate and new ones come about. Some left over from child hood traumas and environments and some with real roots. The fear that your car will get keyed when you are parked outside the check cash place in San Jose is a real fear, just as the one of the flesh-eating bugs under you bed when you were a kid. These fears are real and tangible. They have proper roots that were planted correctly. Having a fear of someone knowing that you need help, or that you can’t sleep at night is a fear that is not grounded. These fears are the ones that keep us apart. These are the fears that make us so worried about keeping them unknown and secret. This in itself becomes a fear. Having our ungrounded fears known. I didn’t want to be scared of him. No, scared pertaining to him.


I got up from my bed and decided to call him. I brought the picture with me. I stared at his eyes. They were talking to me. They were asking why I had abandoned him. They told me to talk to him. They asked my why didn’t I help him when he needed it. I couldn’t answer his hazel-green eyes. They were so green. Sometimes the green was so strong that I couldn’t do anything but look and look. The picture was coming alive in my hands. He was crawling around in the little box of a Polaroid. His hair, his mouth, his cheeks, they were all becoming 3-d.
“Jeff, I really want to know you, you know this right?” I asked the picture as if it would talk back to me. I waited for him to respond. I reached the hallway and continued down it. The picture in my hand felt warm. I stared again at his warm face.
The picture was taken at a birthday party of mine. It was one of those How To Host A Mystery parties. I played the weird vampire host. He didn’t participate, but just watched from the couch. I think he was a little embarrassed to be doing all that acting in front of everyone. This is why he wasn’t in costume in the Polaroid. I had said to him after the party that he looked like a sad model in the picture with his powerful hazel eyes. His eyes were always first to be hurt. Even if he said he was fine, his eyes couldn’t lie.
I made it to the phone in the kitchen. I glanced again at the picture. He urged me to call. He asked me to call. I rubbed the smooth surface with my thumb. I swore that heat was coming off of the little Polaroid.
“Jeff, stop messing with me.” I said directly to the picture.
He seemed to smile back as if to tell me to stop messing with myself and to call him. He was always ready to do anything. I could ask him if he wanted to drive to New York for the weekend and he’d already have the car warmed up. So, I knew even now after all that had happened; he would still be up for anything. I wasn’t worried about that at all, I knew he would meet me again to have fun. What I was worried about was his eyes. His honest eyes.

“Hello.” Jeff answered his cell phone.
“Hi Jeff. This is Cassi.” I said slowly.
“Hey! How are you?”
“I am doing ok. You? How have you been?”
“I have been working too much, but I am too ok, I guess.”
“That sucks. You still working at Larkspur Landing?” I asked.
“Yeah still there, but I really hate it. I’m really thinking of quitting.” He said sounding a little distracted.
“Really?”
“Yeah. But so, what’s up?”
“Oh, I was just wondering if you wanted to get together. I am going to be in town and thought that we could have lunch or something.”
“Yeah, that sounds cool. Just give me a call when you get into town.”
“Ok. I will. See you then. Bye Jeff.”
“Bye.”


We met at his work. He was dressed in his sharp work clothes. Tie and all. Shiny shoes. We exchanged hugs and greetings. It was great. We ate at Denny’s near his work. We talked a lot there and it felt nice. I was starting to remember why I liked him so much. We decided to go to Reno. Drive to Reno and play in the snow. We drove to his house so he could change. It was nice seeing him again. At his house I couldn’t stop staring at all of the things in his room. He was changing in the bathroom. There were pictures everywhere. I stupidly was looking for one of me, but I knew that was a bad idea. It would only make me feel bad. I hadn’t been a part of his life for a while now and these pictures were of new fun events. I sat on his bed and felt a little sad that I wasn’t a part of his exuberant existence anymore. I stopped myself from analyzing his room and just decided to enjoy the night. We got in his truck and drove up I-80. We talked and listened to music. We took exits that were too snowy to drive on, causing his truck to slide around. We laughed after first being scared. We found a little local Inn that had snow covered cars and trees. We parked and made snow angels in the soft untouched snow. We ran and did that slidey thing on the road besides the Inn. It was 3am and we were playing like we were little kids at noon. We walked down an embankment and found a clearing. The snow was beautiful falling in the dark. We made a really horrible snowman and threw snowballs at each other in the clearing. I was having a really fun time. And I knew he was too. We drove back to Folsom, where my car was parked, listening to music and talking.



I was backing out of the parking space I had left my car in while we went to Reno. He drove past me in his truck that I always called purple, but he insisted it was grey. I saw him head out to the exit of the parking lot. I was staring at his truck. I could not help but laugh at the purple truck. It rolled around the corners and bounced over speed bumps. It looked like one of those trucks like on that video game, Off Road. I was now far behind him. Hew as going much faster than I.
That’s how it always seemed. Everyone was ahead of me in a purple truck. A cute purple truck. It was like he was saying whoo hoo, here I go, watch as I zoom home. I don’t exactly know why I was feeling like this. I think it was the fact that I could be a great friend with him, but I seemed to always stay a little behind. And I always feel like the person who I am trying to get to know is mocking me as I step back. I know this to be a stupid fear. But I can’t stop thinking it.
I sped up a little maybe to catch up to him, but I didn’t. He drove away, breaking at the stoplight to exit the parking lot. His purple truck bouncing cartoon like, and saying “neener, neener, neener” to my drab silver/tan accord.

I drove the rest of the way home not really thinking of anything. I turned onto the right streets and went the right speed almost robot like the hour and a half it took me to drive home. I reached home without event. I changed my clothes and headed to bed. For two days I couldn’t stop thinking about how much fun I had in the snow. Even thought we were wearing the wrong clothes, even though my hands were freezing, I had a blast. I took two midterms. I washed the dogs. I watched Six Feet Under on HBO. All this time, I couldn’t help but wonder if Jeff was ok. Was he ok with me? I want to be the one of the first people he tells things to. I wasn’t as afraid anymore, and I wanted him to know this. I sat at my computer writing the first part of this story, the scene part. I wondered if he would mind me writing about him. I think he might be touched. I know he would be touched. I should call him and ask though, and then I can talk to him too. Ask him about work, that guy, and about his neice. Ask him.


“Hello.” A deep voice said, not that of Jeff.
“Hello, Jeff?” I said knowing it was him doing a strange voice.
“Who is this?” He said still in a weird voice.
“This is Cassi, Jeff you are a dork.” I could hear loud noises in the background, like he was at a club or a concert.
“Hey, what are you doing?” He used his normal voice.
“Nothing, I just wanted to say hi. Where are you it’s really loud?” I asked.
“Where are you?” He said all weirdly.
“I am here at my house. Jeff, why are you so weird?” The noises in the background were strange cheering sounds, or maybe singing. I couldn’t tell.
“I’m just here at a restaurant.” He said and he sounded distracted yet again.
“Ok, so I just wanted to say hi and stuff.” I said, kind of regretting calling to tell him about this lame story.
“Hi! So is that all you called for?” He loudly said.
“Um. I used your name…in this story. And I just wanted to let you know.” I said, realizing that I sounded so strange. I wanted to just hang up and write another story or change the name or something.
“What, you used my name? You are using me?” He said. He emphasized the word, used, to make a lude joke.
I laughed before speaking. I wanted to forget I said anything. “So…” I said thinking he would forget what I said.
“What are you saying? You used my name? And you want my permission. Can I read it?” He said fast.
“Yeah, I just wanted to let you know. Now I feel stupid for saying anything.” I was feeling really dorky.
“Don’t feel stupid. E-mal it to me and let me read it. Call me at work tomorrow.” He said, kind of reassuringly. But my brain was still feeling really horrible about bringing this story up. He is going to read it and think what? He’ll think that I’m in love with him. That I’m all obsessed or something. He’ll give it to his friends to read. He will laugh and think I am weird.
“Ok, I will send it to you.” I said not really letting him know how I now felt about it.
“Ok, talk to you tomorrow then when I am at work.” He said, the noises in the background still loud and music like.“Ok, bye.” I said. I hung up my cell phone. I was thinking that I am going to have to send it to him now and he will read this story that I seemed to make a big deal about. This is exactly what I am talking about. This is an ungrounded fear. What am I afraid of? I am afraid of maybe opening up to him. Maybe showing something of myself than just my humor. Fear is a crippling thing. Especially when you don’t know what you are afraid of, and there are no flesh-eating bugs anywhere in sight.

Cassiopia

Cassiopia...
My name sounds like water.

Ca ca ca ca raining onto icy mountain tops
Sssiiii streaming down in smooth rivers
Oooo filling into large clear glacial pools
Pi pi pi trickling and meltingsoftly
Aaaaa into the mouths of life

Cassiopia...

Reversal

Character
by Taslima Nasrin

You're a girl
and you'd better not forget
that when you step over the threshold of your house
men will look askance at you.
When you keep on walking down the lane
men will follow you and whistle.
When you cross the lane and step onto the main road
men will revile you and call you a loose woman.

Character Flaw
by Cassiopia Recend

You're a boy
and you'd better remember
that when you step over the fence of your house
people will look expectingly at you.
When you keep on trodding down the street
people will follow you and make sure you go.
When you don't cross the street and walk onto the main road
people will revile you and call you a weak man.

Single Nutrition

This is finals week. I have a Nutrition class to study for. The final falls on this Thursday at 8:30pm. Now that you have that background information I can go on with the rest of my narration. Personal Nutrition, fourth edition by Marie A. Boyle sits on the couch next to me. The corner rests neatly between the back of the couch and my back pocket. I can feel the corner digging a little into my butt. I was thinking of moving it away, but then I thought that if it sits there jabbing me it will probably keep me motivated to finish this.
I just finished reading the last chapter that I have to study for. Food Safety and the Global Food Supply. Chapter 11. Let's see so if I go by the exercise I need to answer a few questions about this work.
What I remember about reading this work first was the pompousness of the title. And all through the chapter I could not stop thinking about that title. It still is with me. Just now when I was writing the title in the paragraph before, I was still struck by the pompous nature of it.
My response to the work has not changed much. I have read pretty much all the chapters the same way. In that oh-god-I-have-to-remember-this-stuff-I-hope-it-is-fun-and-not-boring. At least I had the different name of the chapter to amuse me this time.
How has this made me see the world differently? Well it made me a little frightened of fast food places, like when I watch one of those 20/20 undercover reports on a restaurant. I learned about how to store beans in the refrigerator. So I guess from a bean storage perspective it did change the way I see the world.
And as for what it looked like. Well take your normal 80 dollar book and that is exactly what mine looks like. Big. Overpriced. Author's name the same size as the title. Oh this book has an ok cover. When you think nutrition...you think oranges. Well I do anyway. On the cover there are oranges on a plate, a purple plate. Royal, dont you think?
All right that is the end of the narration to one work that I have read. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. With minimal emotional investment. Farewell.

Sunflower Seeds

You know you aren’t supposed to eat things before you go to bed. They say it gives you weird dreams. Gives you gas. Makes you bloated. Causes you to gain weight. And of course crumbs.
This is what I have heard all my life. I love sunflower seeds. I need then before I go to bed. When I was younger I had bed time stories, now I have books and my lovely seeds. It is a comfort to put one in my mouth and suck the salty goodness off before cracking it in between my teeth to liberate the tiny well-deserved seed. It not only gives me something to snack on, but it gives me something to do while I read away the hours. Without my seeds, I would probably bite my nails too much or yell a lot. Neither of those are viable options at bed time, so my seeds will stay.
So ha....to they who say I shouldn't eat them before I go to bed. No gas, no bloating. Seeds are forever apart of me as the salt is apart of the delicious concoction that is the sunflower seed.

I am Lemur

Upon seeing the video was amused, during the video I found myself learning much more about ring-tailed lemurs than I thought that I would, and after seeing the video I realized that through my initial amusement and then my new come knowledge I wanted to know more about not just what lemurs did but what they felt, so this past weekend I really got to know what it feels like to be a lemur.
I woke up in the orange-glow morning and yawned and stretched and I was a lemur: I had a long tail, I had long back legs, I had fur all over my body, and most of all I had an overwhelming urge to sunbathe. I climbed out of my bed and my prosimian brain started to forget what a bed was as I began to search for a tree to do my morning sunbathing in. I had trouble with the doorknob, but I found a tree in the area outside, climbed up with my little hands and feet and sat for a spat while the sun beat down on my cat-sized body, feeling not only safe under the sun, but I also feeling renewed and ready to face the day.
I began to wonder where the rest of my lemur-family was, but my tummy started to tell me to eat, so I climbed down and my mind began to change my Sunnyvale duplex into the lush landscape of the island of Madagascar, where there were Tamarind trees! I now had my eyes set upon the sweet sticky tamarind that lay on the ground; I ate until I saw other ring-tailed lemurs, whom I knew to be my family. I heard the singing of the males, and I knew what the song meant: that the song was of lemur unity, he was singing the song of possession and I knew it. This was ours: this tree, these sweet tamarinds and as far as I could smell, was ours and I felt a sense of belonging like never before.
We all climbed down the tree one by one, each wrapping our clawless hands around the thick branches and we all knew the order and I knew that I wasn't a high-ranking female, and I would never think otherwise. There were females below me too, some even with babies and couldn't help but feel superior to these females and couldn't help but feel inferior to the females above in status. It was something that was familiar to my now vague human mind, that was know forgetting my house, my human companions, paper, pencils, Earth. I knew my place, much like humans take roles in society, but, somehow, I felt that this worked better in my new lemur surroundings; we continued to the cool leaf/grass covered ground to snack some more.
We then found a nice cool spot and just hung out for a while, while the young lemurs played and chased each other around the low trees, there mothers looking on. I sat with a male lemur and picked all the little bugs and other goodies from his coat and I was surprised at how cathartic this was, after all, we were just basically combing each others hair, I could barely remember a comb. All I could think of and remember is that these are key moments in our family, like eating dinner with the family at the end of the day, this time was to strengthen the fibers of the lemurs that I shared this space with. The playing of youngsters, the grooming, the hanging around: it was all played a part in this group, in which I could feel a definite respect and love when my male lemur friend pulled a bug from my fur and chomped on it.
There was a noise from the far end of the area and all of the lemurs' tails went straight up into the air. I knew this to be a warning sign, so I took a break from bug munching to see what was happening, looking over at the movement to the groups left. There, bounding from a high tree was a white furry animal that could only hop on its hind legs to get around so it came fast, lunging from one branch to the next. We stared with curiosity, eyes keeping close contact, as the white fur went by because we knew that these white furry animals were of no harm, and just watched as they passed. My human brain took me back to a time when I would have known the name of this animal. But all we need, that is seem to already know, to know is that they aren’t going to eat our food or harm our young, this no name, but curious looks. I feel pure curiosity when seeing the white leaping animal.
The end of the day rolls around and it is time to retire my furry head, but we eat, a mixture of left over tamarind and leaf buds, a little bit before sleeping. I fall asleep knowing that I will be safe in my family of lemurs, knowing that I will wake tomorrow and have the security of that Tamarind tree to bathe in. I will wake knowing that I will always have sweet tamarind to eat, and will wake with the comfort of Madagascar, and, most of all, I will wake knowing that I am a lemur that feels nothing but things that will get me to the next day. My human mind takes me back to a time when classroom learning and textbooks were the ways to grow up, causing me to stir in my sleep and start to remember the uncertainties of my mind. I wake, a little blurry and light headed, thinking of how much I learned from the lemurs: belonging, rank, respect, love, curiosity and security. If a ring-tailed lemur can convey, respect and teach it, why then is it so hard for the likes of Hominidae to grasp these things harmoniously. My weekend was well spent, and I hope that I don’t forget everything about my day as a lemur as quick as I usually forget my day as a human.

Ecstasy

FIRST-PART…forbidden story
Drugs.
I never thought I would try them. I made it through high school not even thinking about them. I hung out with people that cared about school and college not drugs. So I assumed I would never touch anything. I graduated in 1998, here it is 2002. It has been four years. Four years since I walked across the stage from confused to knowing all, right?
Wrong. Very horribly completely out of my mind wrong. I won’t go into detail, but I was wrong. One would think, hey four years, that means college graduation. After a faulty year at UC Davis I went on a 2-year binge of work/community college/depression/move back home/work some more/move/move/move/move. I moved a lot. I was so unhappy and confused as to what I wanted to do and who I was.
I moved in with one of my good friends in the bay area and I am staying put. No moving. I am finishing up school and working on writing. Which is something that I hope to make a career out of. We will see. But the important thing is that I finally found some key things out and am here where I type. I am happy for the most part. I still am finding myself. But I think everyone is still finding themselves. I think that is what life is about: finding and finding yourself. A friend of mine from school gave me a little baggie one day. His name was Sonny. I only knew him from parties and he was always the one who was drunk or high or something or other. I had a car so he asked me for rides home a lot. He lived close to me. He is a nice guy sometimes when he is sober, but for the most part he is a little selfish and rude. But I don’t like seeing people hurt themselves, so I came to know him driving him to various parties and then driving him home. I learned how to make Sonny stop rambling incoherently and how to carry his 175 pound frame to keep him from falling.
Back to the baggie. He told me to look at it when I had time. I was late for a class so I stuffed it in my change-ridden pocket and ran towards my biology lab. That night I got home late, calorie formulas running amuck in my head. I pulled out the days goodies form my pocket and threw it all on my dresser. I forgot about the baggie.
Weeks went by and I did my thing as usual not thinking of the baggie that kinda mixed in with the numerous Safeway receipts and the endless change. Then one day I was doing my every-once-and-a-while change roundup. I saw the baggie and remembered Sonny giving it to me. I looked at the contents real close but couldn’t really tell what was inside so I untied the stubborn knot. I emptied the contents into my cupped hand and saw 3 and a half pills. I smelled them and they didn’t really have a smell. Even though I was curious I knew they were from Sonny and Sonny is strange. I put them back and decided to ask Sonny what they were when I saw him next. I still hadn’t seen him since he gave me the bag.
About two days later I got a phone call. A very strange phone call. I picked up my cell phone.
“Hello.”
“Hi is this Cassi?”
“Who is this?” I hate it when people ask if that question. If they are calling my cell then they know that it is me.
“This is a friend of Sonny’s. I was wondering if you enjpyed the alligators.”
“What?” I was annoyed by the call at this time.
“Did you enjoy the alligators? There is plenty where that came from.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about. Tell Sonny to not give my number out.”
“E. Did you try the E?” He stressed the letter E like a stoner might. My brother is a stoner so I am allowed to have that opinion.
“E? I am sorry, who is this?”
“My name is Brad. E is Ecstasy.”
“Ecstasy? Like the drug?”
He laughed at my naïve remark. “Yes the drug. So you didn’t try then?”
“No, Brad.” I all of a sudden realized what Brad was talking about. Ecstasy was the name of those 3 and a half pills on my dresser. Sonny had given me Ecstasy to try. Brad was calling to see if I wanted more.
“Ok. Well when you do, give me a call. You want more, trust me.”
“Why did you say alligators?”
“These pills are alligators, it’s the batch name. I had snowflakes last time.”
“Oh.”
Brad laughed some more at me. “Anyway, call me anytime. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Ok, bye.” I said as he clicked on the other end.
I was a little stunned by the conversation and a little embarrassed. I felt like a nerd. I didn’t know anything about alligators or E or whatever. And there they were sitting on my dresser mingling with the receipts.
I called a friend Jeff, who I had been getting back in touch with. We lived together briefly and went to high school together. We had lost touch, and had just begun to talk more. I asked him if he wanted to try Ecstasy with me. I don’t know why I asked. I trusted him and knew that he to shared the need to experience.
To make things brief, we decided to try it together. I didn’t want the baggie to go to waste. I was scared at first thinking about it. What if I die, what if I become addicted. Little kid things like that, but I thought what they heck, you only live once right?
So we tried it one day not knowing anything about it. We sat around waiting to feel something. We both had no idea what to expect. We both got discouraged and started heading back to the car. We had walked to a little rocky beach near a damn. On the way back Jeff said that he was feeling something. I just thought he was feeling hopeful and was ready to go home.
We sat on his tailgate while he smoked a cigarette. We talked about the failing of the alligators while one and a half still sat in my pocket. I said maybe they were just lame pills and Sonny was playing a trick on me. Sonny would do something like that. As we were discussing this I got up and my limbs felt heavy and tingly. My ears were plugged and my voice sounded far away. I felt like I was floating and falling at the same time. I forgot that I was talking and just stared at the ground, finding it amazing. I felt so wonderful. I realized that Ecstasy was now flowing through my blood and was reeking its havoc on my body.
Jeff was also experiencing the same wonderful feeling. I cannot put words to the feeling that I had that night. It was everything warm you ever felt and everything soft you ever touched. It was the feeling of swimming through deep water and flying through high altitudes. It was everything you could remember of nice and nothing you could remember of bad. It made you see your insides and want to see others insides. I felt a closeness to Jeff that I have never felt with anyone. It was as if we were floating in each other’s souls. For three or so hours we experienced empathy to the highest degree. It was amazing to give it a very unjust word. Since that night, we have planned on maybe trying it more times. I enjoyed it because I was with Jeff. I would not do it ever without him. It would feel wrong. It is a Jeff thing. Jeff and I have never been closer. I can talk to him now about anything. Including drugs. I thought I would never try drugs. I still don’t think I ever will. I am only experiencing alligators.

SECOND PART…Fiction Forbidden story
Drugs. I never thought I would try them.
The lights were mixing with the atmosphere. Brightness seemed overwhelming. Everything was pretty. My tree friend hugged me as I hugged him back. Jeff’s hair felt so nice. It was wet and a little sticky. It made my hands tingle like I was touching a thousands coils of electricity.
Jeff was with me and I was so glad. He had on a Spiderman outfit. It looked good on him even before tonight. The tight fit made him seem a thousand times taller. Now standing there sitting in the tree. He was there perched in the tree in all his glory. I don’t think I would give so much credit and mention to the tree had it been any other normal night. This was heaven. About two weeks earlier I got a phone call. A very strange phone call. I picked up my cell phone.
“Hello.”
“Hi is this Cassi?”
“Who is this?” I hate it when people ask if that question. If they are calling my cell then they know that it is me.
“This is a friend of Sonny’s. I was wondering if you enjoyed the alligators.”
“What?” I was annoyed by the call at this time.
“Did you enjoy the alligators? There is plenty where that came from.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about. Tell Sonny to not give my number out.”
“E. Did you try the E?” He stressed the letter E like a stoner might. My brother is a stoner so I am allowed to have that opinion.
“E? I am sorry, who is this?”
“My name is Brad. E is Ecstasy.”
“Ecstasy? Like the drug?”
He laughed at my naïve remark. “Yes the drug. So you didn’t try then?”
“No, Brad.” I all of a sudden realized what Brad was talking about. Ecstasy was the name of those 3 and a half pills on my dresser. Sonny had given me Ecstasy to try. Brad was calling to see if I wanted more.
“Ok. Well when you do, give me a call. You want more, trust me.”
“Why did you say alligators?”
“These pills are alligators, it’s the batch name. I had snowflakes last time.”
“Oh.”
Brad laughed some more at me. “Anyway, call me anytime. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Ok, bye.” I said as he clicked on the other end.
I knew that Brad was referring to a baggie I received about two weeks prior from a friend who liked to party way too much. I forgot about the bag until that phone call.
I called a friend Jeff, who I had been getting back in touch with. We lived together briefly and went to high school together. We had lost touch, and had just begun to talk more. I told him if he wanted to try Ecstasy with me. I don’t know why I asked. I trusted him and knew that he too shared the need to experience.
So we tried it one day not knowing anything about it. We sat around waiting to feel something. We both had no idea what to expect. We both got discouraged and started heading back to the car. We had walked to a little rocky beach near a damn. There were all these strange sounds and strange animals living there. I heard that this damn was the sight of many a biological experiment back in the day. On the way back Jeff said that he was feeling something. I just thought he was feeling leftover bad vibes from the old time experiments and was ready to go home.
We sat on his tailgate while he smoked a cigarette. I noticed how the light bounced off of Jeff’s Spiderman outfit. He had bought it before we came at a store in Old Sacramento called Evangeline’s. I told him that he has got to wear it. He obliged and looked pretty hot. We talked about the failing of the alligators while one and a half still sat in my pocket.
So here we are dancing wonderfully in our tree. Sparkling and splattering of silver and green. The moonlight and the starlight hurt my eyes if I looked too long. I find solace in Jeff’s welcoming and oh so kind bright eyes. His eyes say things to me that no one has ever told me. They have secrets. I am queen of the night. The breeze hugs my heart and whispers into my ear “Requiem!” I realize that the whisper is not a whisper at all but Jeff screaming at me from across the tree.
I laugh and my breath is one with my lungs. My lungs escape and float around for a while before they tire and retreat back to my body. I embrace the air and fly to Jeff who is busy lighting another cigarette.
We sit together like we have never before. Two wandering souls finding a perch. Perfect like no other night-ever.
Drugs. I really never thought I would try them. Requiem? Indeed.

THIRD PART…telling of how I wrote the story.
I sat for a total of around 5 hours in front of the computer trying to think of a forbidden story. Hopeless drafts and really lame first paragraphs came out of those 5 hours. I could not think of something that I could not write. Strange. Not being able to think of something that you never could write. It is almost comical.
I was thinking of things about my family but I have written countless stories about them. I was thinking of so many things. I think that I made a list of forbidden things and most of them I have written about. I write about so many things that this was such a difficult assignment. I write when I find something tough. I write when I need clarity. I write when I want something out of a moment. So I seem to have covered a lot of ground during these writing moments. A friend of mine from high school told me that I should write about Ecstasy. I told him that I don’t want to and that it was weird to write about it for a class. I was thinking that it was inappropriate and crude. Forbidden? Ah-ha! I had my paper.
Jeff also called me and told me that he wrote a little thing on our experience. I told him to email it to me. He did and his story was the backbone and inspiration to my story here.
I sat at my computer with Jeff’s one page account right on the word page with me. I typed and looked and typed and looked. It was as if I was using not only my words but his also. We told this story. We wrote it.

FOUTH PART…combination of the three parts.
I read an email from my friend, Jeff. It was a story he had read to me the night before. I was reading it again hoping to find some inspiration for a paper I was supposed to write about something forbidden. The email went like this:

“A few months ago Cassi and I tried something neither of us have ever done before, Ecstasy. Ecstasy is a drug which...(put definition later)
I was hesitant to take it at first, after all I had heard stories of the bad that could happen, but I figured what the hell, you only live once, right? We tried it, not really knowing anything about this drug, and waited for it to kick in. It eventually came, and it was one of the greatest feelings I have ever had.
I grew up in a household where everything bad was wrong and I only knew of what the "right" thing to do was. My dad was a Highway Patrolman and my mom was a teacher. Of course my dad never let anything bad come into the house and my friends were not the type who would go out in the night to cause trouble. I guess you could say I was in the "good crowd", whatever that’s supposed to mean. For a moment in my life I believed I was truly happy. Boy, was I stupid.
It wasn’t until my senior year in high school when my "perfect world" bubble popped. I’m not sure exactly how it hit me, but when it did, it knocked me down hard. I suddenly realized that my life made no sense, I was very confused, and I was unhappy. It was definitely not the way I wanted to end high school. My "friends" suddenly stopped talking to me, I broke up with my girlfriend of 11 months, and I was about to graduate in a month. Life couldn’t have been any worse.
It’s been about 4 years now and nothing much has changed in my life. My life still doesn’t make sense and I am still unhappy. I wanted to try drugs because I heard it makes your problems go away and you forget about everything that’s wrong in your life for just a moment. For those few hours, life changes somehow. It stimulates your mind and let’s you be who you are inside for just a moment. It brings out the you inside and you feel more alive. From my experience, I have realized that I could be so much more and it truly is changing my life.
Cassi and I have never been so close to each other before, and our friendship has grown tremendously. I am very thankful that we have become good friends and I hope we remain this way forever. I can’t believe something so bad can make something so good.”

I read this again and I was really moved by Jeff’s sentiment. I decided that, yes, I was going to write my paper on Ecstasy. I was really nervous writing it. Just because it was for a class and I was always so used to being the good person in class or anywhere for that matter. That is what forbidden things are made of right? My paper had to be on a forbidden something. So I wrote away.

SEE PART ONE…and INSERT PART TWO.
I sit here now writing the last paragraph of my paper. I am thinking of calling Jeff and seeing what he is up to. He is supposed to be seeing Spiderman tonight. It came out today. I’ll wait a little later to call him. I wonder if he wore he Spiderman outfit to the movie. I wonder if he remembers screaming requiem at me. I wonder if he even knows what requiem means. Drugs. Say no to drugs kids. Seriously, I never thought I would try them. You might say I forbade myself to ever try them. And look at me now writing an English paper at 11:15pm on the subject. Drugs.

stand by me

Corey Feldman's face shown on the 24 inch TV. I told John, my younger brother, that this was the fifth time he had seen Stand By Me. He didn't seem to care. He just continued on watching it pretty unaffected by my comment. I walked passed him sitting in the old ratty chair, making sure to slow down when I was in between him and the TV. He threw the remote at me as I passed. I just picked up the remote and switched the TV off as I ran to the couch where my little sister lay sleeping under one of those knitted blankets that had all the holes in it. I never got those blankets. John didn't flinch as the TV zapped off. I watched him as I snuggled up next to Jess under the holy blanket. She was only 4 years old so she just accepted my intrusive move, and slid a little over for me. John got up from the chair, which squeaked in protest. He slowly walked over to the couch. I held the remote firmly in my hand under the blanket. You could see it through the holes. He stopped right in front of the couch so his thighs touched the edge of the cushions. I asked him what he wanted. He nodded his head and told me that he doesn't need the remote or the TV to really watch Stand By Me. I said that he was weird and pretended to fall asleep, laying my head on Jess's head and snoring exaggeratedly. When I opened my eyes he had disappeared from the room. I got up disturbing Jess once again. She asked me what I was doing. I told her that we are playing hide and go seek and that we are gonna find John. Her blonde hair fell over her smile as she sat up. She exclaimed that she loved hide a seek, as she called it. She yawned and asked me what I was waiting for and grabbed the bottom of my shirt helping me along. I called John's name out. Jess said shhhh spitting a little as she said it, and told me that that is cheating and if he says what to me that we will know where he is. I had forgot that I had told her we were playing hide and seek. I had the remote in my hand still and set it on the kitchen counter as we passed the refrigerator. Jess was looking in all the cabinets and under the table. She was saying that she knows all the good spots to hide in this house. I was just following her waiting to see what John was up to and I knew he wasn't a part of this hide and seek game that Jess and I were playing. Jess told me to start helping her look and that we shouild split up. I told her that she is a smart girl and headed upstairs. I could hear the openeing and closing of various doors and cupboards as I stomped up the stiars. Jess loves hide and seek way to much. I assumed that John went to his oh so dear room. He spent a lot of time in there over the past year. He had just turned 12 so I thought it was some boy needing to be alone puberty thing. I hadn't even seen the inside of his room in quite a while, and everytime I got close he would throw something at me or yell at me for invading his privacy. We got along much better as younger kids. I was 15 and he was 12. We didn't have much in common anymore except for Jess. She was the always a mediator. We both played with her and loved her. Just as we were playing hide and seek now. Just a twisted version of it where the hider doesnt know he is being seeked. I got to his door and, of course, it was closed. I knocked and said his name. I heard Jess yell no cheating with her sweet voice. I put my ear to the white door and listened for him. I said his name again quieter this time so Jess wouldn't accuse me of cheating again. I heard some rustling so I knew he was in there. I heard Jess running up the stairs. She saw me when she got to the top of the stairs down the hall and said my name as if she was my mother. Jess said hey you just standing there! She pointed her finger as she ran towards me and said I have been doing all the work while you just stand here looking like a goober. I told her that I think he is in here and pointed to the white door. She said well lets go in. Jess pushed open the door but it stopped about an inch after opening. John, Jess yelled, let us in, no fair you can't block a hiding space! Am I the only one who doesn't cheat in this game. She laughed at her own joke and told me to help her push the door. We both planned to pushed on the count of Jess's well thought 3. She counted one, two, and threeeeeeeee! We heaved against the door but it didn't budge. Our mom came from downstairs and asked us what we were up to. Jess said that we were playing a real unfair game of hide and seek and pointed like I did before to the white now an inch open door. My mom said to leave John alone. Mom, Jess whined, we are playing a game! My mom told Jess to stop whining then called out John's name. When he didn't respond she knocked on the door and attempted to push the door open. I told her that something was blocking it from opening further. She yelled a little sterner this time and told John to open the door now. When nothing happened my mom looked a little puzzled. Jess giggled and said that maybe he is really in the bathroom and we are calling to the wrong room. I grabbed her and hugged her with one hand and asked my mom if she even has been in his room lately. My mom looked flustered and began to pound the door. John! Let me in this is not funny anymore. She was yelling pretty loudly and Jess gripped me a little tighter with her small hands. After about ten poundings the door gave way. It flung open and whatever was holding it there also flung away from the door and made a loud crashing noise. We watched as the door slowly bounced back. My mother stormed into the room looking ready to really give it to my brother. He would be grounded forever I was guessing. When she was about 5 feet in her mad face immediately turned into a look of horror. Her put her hands up to her face and was looking around everywhere with that look on her face, like she was going to puke. Mom? I asked. Go get your dad, go get him, your dad. She was talking to Jess. Jess started to ask why, but my mom said to just go. I asked my mom what was going on as I was walking into the room. I saw piles of clothes and dirty dishes on the floor and had to kinda maneuver around them to reach my mom half way into the room. Then I saw it; I saw what my mom was looking at. My brother was in the corner on the left side of his disheveled room facing the wall. He had a thick marker in his hand and was writing on the wall. I looked around at the walls. It looked like tons and tons of black writing all over the walls. Even the ceiling was covered. Millions of millions of words were scribbled all over. You couldn't see the white walls anymore, just in small areas, like the corners of the room. I told John to stop it. It seemed as if he was deaf or had no idea that we were there. I looked back at my mom and she just looked the same: her hands up at her face. I wish she would just puke already. Just then my dad ran into the room with Jess behind him looking confused. He saw right away what was going on and told my mom to call Doctor Shill. I wondered who doctor Shill was but I knew that I would not get an answer from any of my parents. My mom brushed passed me and told me to take Jess to the park. My dad was trying to get to my brother, wading through all the weird stuff he had on the floor. My dad told me to leave right now. As I was grabbing Jess my brother turned around and smiled at me. He said I told you. It kinda freaked me out so I just pulled Jess from the dank room. As I walked by the scribbled lining the way to the door I caught a word in the mess. It read "Stand". As I walked to the park with my little sister gripping my hand I was feeling like maybe I should have never turned the TV off.

Fumbling Blue

The drugs took hold of his body soon after he ingested about 45 of the prescribed little blue diet pills. Nate's heart began to beat faster than he had ever felt it beat. It was as if tiny fists were pounding on his chest from the inside. Sweat poured from each overloaded pore. His eyes began to ache, like a headache but with more throbbing. He felt the need to read the pill container even though his head was aching.
Ephedrexine, 250mg. Take one pill before every meal and at bedtime. Nate slowly read to himself through the tears and sweat covering his eyes. He had given his girlfriend a hard time about getting these pills. She never took them because she got pregnant soon after. He said that they were dangerous to be taking with the baby on the way. Nate was always concerned with her health. He always wanted to protect her and keep he out of danger. He was experiencing their danger firsthand now.
Nate threw the little orange plastic cylinder across his room. It flew by posters of Radiohead, and a Van Gogh. It landed atop his desk with a loud crash as it flew into a can of empty soda causing it to tumble aimlessly across the desk. A little drop of stale soda plipped out and made a home on an old Dominoe's napkin. Nate and his girlfriend had eaten Dominoe's two nights earlier, before she had to go to the hospital.
Nate breathed out a loud breath warbled with saliva. Strings of his spit hung inbetween his dry lips. He didn't know what he was doing. He ran his shaky fingers through his sweat-laden hair. His motion caused sweat to squeeze down his neck and temples. Nate paced around clothes and bags on the floor very aware of how wet he was getting.
Nate wished he would just die. He wished the drugs would hurry up. He was feeling only a dizzying hyper state. He sat on his unmade bed and pulled his legs up under him. Sitting indian style, Nate started crying. His body started to convulse. And he didn't think it was from the crying. He tried to steady his hands but they were out of control shaking, and his heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest, dying before Nate did. Nate thought that was unfair. Just like it was unfair for his girlfriend to be sitting in the hospital.
Nate didn't mean to push her. He didn't want to push her. Nate covered his eyes. His body was now under the drug’s control. He could barely keep his limbs still, they wre shaking so badly. His back and neck felt tense, and he wondered if he'd even be able to stand back up.
He craned his neck to make sure that the note he had written two hours earlier was still there. It was sitting in front of his alarm clock, the red letters giving the small yellow paper an eerie devilish glow about it. Nate was relieved to see it there. He couldn't imagine leaving his girlfriend without her knowing that he loved her.
He did love her. He loved the little baby inside of her too. He loved her so much. He loved her too much. His love caused him to push her when she wouldn't tell him where she was the night before. His love caused her to fall down the small steps out of the hallway. His love caused that little life to be bled out of her. He loved her too much to see her face again.
His heart began to do things he thought that hearts shouldn’t do. Skipping and beating out of sync. And he was so hot. Nate grabbed his chest thinking he ought to. One last painful beat and Nate would have had held two lives in his hands. His fumbling hands.