Not Yet There

August 5-6, 2001


Last night I thought I was going to bump my head on the moon. I couldn’t believe how close I was. I find it amazing that we are not floating yet. How do I express myself these days? Words don’t flow quite as easily as before, and although I have been writing more lately than I did in the past year, I have not yet satisfied myself. I am slowly chipping away at this brick wall surrounding the creative side of my brain. One of these days I will retrieve my groove. My soul is lonely. The more people that file into this ancient dorm, the more alone I become. Yup, nobody understands, not even a best friend, but who cares anyway? Who wants to explain? Who has the guts to listen? Who has the wisdom to help? So the moon was full and night refreshingly cool, but I guess my mood was too heavy to allow my body to float. Memories of home persuade my weak moment to forfeit, but I am my own coach and will not allow this series of losses to completely wipe me out. Loneliness has been camped out on my doorstep since I was old enough to care and I have learned how to cope with this nuisance. Just another uninvited guest, right? Too many miles have been covered to just pull over to the shoulder and retrace my skid marks in a swift U-turn. The past is a bitter memory to me with all those faces I love contributing to the harsh remnants that will always remain fresh in my thoughts. But it is not yet time to rediscover the lucid past. I cannot wait for the drive home, and with plans already made to come back next summer, I am not as reluctant to leave. I miss my roots. I miss the arbitrary familiarity I used to detest so much. In early November when we will be making that drive across the Lone Star state’s border, we will be unpacking ten times more than we first originally packed. Insignificant changes and differences I have made within myself will prove to be more drastic when I return to that life I rejected, protested, and abused. I will fully be able to see where I am at with myself — these things are important to me. Getting drunk at late night parties only to wake up the next morning in someone else’s room, or in someone else’s bed is not. If only I had my own place. It’s bad enough I have to work with these people, but living with them is just too much. I need privacy! I was not expecting for there to be this much soap opera drama spreading around here. Everybody is screwing everybody else but I have never been one for casual sex which makes it that much easier to avoid being type-cast in this day and nighttime drama. I will be so relieved when my brother arrives in a week. Now, there’s someone who’s a lot like me, my older brother. Actually, I guess I’m more like him. My best experiences in the park will be with Kirk I’m sure. Family. I do miss my family. In the next week or so there will be a meteor storm in these mountains and it is this event that will most likely steal the number one spot in my memories here. Only a select few will be invited to experience this free showing along with me. We will camp on top of a mountain away from any imposing lights or people and take in the workings of space. We will duck when one gets too close and throw them towards the moon if they land.

Author: Lindsay Niemann

Writer | Graphic Artist