I woke up at 12:22pm this afternoon with the same 3 lines from a song playing over and over in my head. It's actually a Filipino song, in English, but by some Filipino singer. I don't even know the singer's name, or when I actually heard the song, because it certainly wasn't from American radio.

"If I could dream about you

it would make everything so real.

I'd just close my eyes, and then you I would find."

That's it, that's all I can remember from the song.  This seems to be sufficient information for my brain to be able to set the damn song on replay, though.

Now here's the kicker: This entry isn't about the song.

Infinity lies behind the mind_that has tried to find_a solution of the painless kind.

It's not much, but that's the only sentence that I can come up with to describe myself right now. Haha, it sounds like something you'd hear at a poetry jam, complete with the dude in the messy dreadlocks, beads in his hair, and his fingers jabbing in the air to the rhythm of his words. You know what I'm talking about. And his eyes are closed every now and then because if he were to actually see the crowd staring at him, I'm sure he'd vomit. And if not that, he'd at least find it hard to not to laugh at the open-mouthed, nodding masses of posers before him.

Or maybe his eyes are closed because it's the only way he can see what he wants to see. When something doesn't exist, whether it was never there to begin with, or is something that has disappeared, isn't the only way to find it again to generate it from a memory? And these things we call "dreams", I'm beginning to think we generate them from unsettled memories of the mind. They are recollections that, due to emotional instability, never really found a home, but just sort of wander in our thoughts until we can find a place for them, or when we are at peace with the memory. So they're really not so much "created" by the imagination, but "recycled" by the imagination out of fragments that, when put together, create some very real imagery.

And I guess that is why I'm really starting to dream a lot. About the same thing. Over and over again. I guess that's why I am able to see things that don't exist anymore. I'm plopped in front of  the lake again, or parked in the fire lane, or reading in the fireplace room. I see everything whether I want to see it or not.

And maybe that's what separates me from the dude in the dreadlocks at the poetry jam. I feel like he's trying too hard to be at a place where humans come to naturally. The secret is that everyone already has "the stuff dreams are made of". 

It's 2 in the morning and the thought of being unproductive weighs my conscience down more than a stolen videogame does to an awkward ten-year-old boy. Maybe I do work and I'm so consumed in it that time stops, leaving me to snap back into reality feeling like nothing had really happened. I have 2 days til Thanksgiving, and I'm going to make them count.

I'm going to have to update this thing more often. I need the outlet.

Don't you hate the feeling of knowing you could've done better, but didn't? It's comparable to hearing someone call you a different name and never bothering to correct them.

I'm heading to the Big Apple on Friday morning at approximately 5:30 am. This means I will be receiving a friendly wake-up call from my "buddy" (our professor did us the kind favor of creating a buddy system to get our lazy butts onto the bus on time) at 4:30 am. I'm not sure how I feel about this. This feeling could be apathy. But maybe it's just apathy out of the mind-numbing effects of trying to understand such a horrific ordeal. College students should NEVER, and I mean NEVER , be asked to get up before sunrise. Never. I'm actually not even sure if it's physically possible. The universe will probably implode the second all of us 3rd year UVA Architecture students wake violently to the sound of our alarms.

We're supposed to get back on Sunday night at 10pm. I think they mentioned we were leaving at 2pm from NYC. What a comforting thought, they alloted 8 HOURS for our bus ride back. Such a refreshing thought, isn't it?

After arriving at C-ville, bleary-eyed and disoriented, I must gather my things and head to NOVA . Because it IS supposed to be my Fall Break and all, so I thought it would be cool to actually take a break and go home. I don't think our A-school Professors thought of that. I suppose it's all in the fine print on our first-year application to the Architecture school--right along with the rights to our souls for 4 years.

I'm tired, it's past 2am and I have an 11am class I should probably get up for. I can't believe I spent this entry talking about my plans for this weekend. How boring. I promise the entry after this will be more meaningful.