Big Baby: Journal 8/22/06

Posted by Ms. Babble

August 22, 2006

There’s been a lot of talk lately of going home. It’s not going to be next week… or the week after that… or even after that one. But it’s close enough that I think most of us are starting to spend a lot of time thinking about it. I’ve been trying to lay out plans in my head of what I need to start doing or rather, plans I need to start making. Trips I want to take. Enrolling for classes for the January semester. Getting songs together that I’d like to start practicing. You know. Practical life advancing things. But beyond that, there are other things to consider too.

I’m always surprised when I hear that people are having dreams and thoughts similar to my own. I’m not sure why it takes me off guard since we’re all in this shit together. But I suppose I still value some sort of individuality that I think I still have. In reality, there isn’t much that separates me from anyone else out here.

The dreams I’ve been having lately are about going home and being in shock or just feeling this massive weight of confusion. The objects are the same and familiar; houses I know, people I love, roads I’ve driven. But everything is very foreign. And the one thing that puts me into shock is looking up at a grey sky. Not an ominous sky, but a sky heavy with Autumn air. Theres a faint sun barely pushing light onto the ground. There are no shadows. Everything is just still and soft and chaotic at the same time. It’s the Chicago in November that I used to love. It’s the changing of the seasons that always got me excited for the whiteness of winter. The grass is turning a soft brown and the leaves are dripping from the trees. But in my dreams, it feels massively wrong. And it makes me panic at the thought that something I once loved all of a sudden feels unfamiliar.

I suppose its understandable to feel intimidated by the thought of a totally different season looming. Out here, the weather has become so monotonous. It’s perpetually August. The sun shines. There are no clouds. The wind blows. It’s hot. Day in and day out. And when they rip us out of here and plunk us back down in Chicago it’ll be a whole other world. We’ll all get off the bus and scratch our heads. Look up at the sky, breathe air that doesn’t have sand in it, and shiver at the sudden drop in temperature.

I see now that the routine of life out here has finally worn me down. I have finally succumbed to it. And now that it’s finally cracked me into submission, I’m panicking at the thought of infinite freedom.

What a big baby I am! Freedom is what I’ve wanted since the moment I’ve gotten here! But it’s funny how your mind tricks itself. In order to survive, it makes you think you are ok with the life you are forced to live. In fact, it almost makes you desire it because a life without desire is not a life worth living. So here I am. Both aching for and dreading coming home.

No worries though. After a few cold ones back home, I’m sure this blog will be a distant memory.

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