A world less traveled.

It's half past midnight. I'm sitting here alone. It's cold here in my apartment, surrounded by concrete walls. I'm listening to the rain that's falling, and it sounds like water running over some rocks in a stream. I'm in a contemplative mood right now. I don't want to do anymore school work and I'm not sleepy.

A few minutes ago, I turned off the radio because a song they were playing had struck a chord, and the emotion began to resonate in my soul. What song, you ask? Stacy Orrico's More to Life. I've been saying that to myself quite often lately. Why do I chase happiness?

I keep telling myself that I need to be patient. That the constant worrying about how to pay the bills will end when I finish what I've started. When the road, which nears its end, leads me to that place where my worries will disappear and all will be right. And. I. Will. Be. Happy.

Of course, I'm too damn practical to accept such a fairytale. I know that once I complete this degree, come Christmas time, I'll be broke, still looking for a job, and having no excuses for why I am still not where I want to be. On top of that, I'm nursing this shoulder injury that hampers my ability to work any physical type of jobs. And I still will worry because they won't go away with a snap of my fingers.

I'm walking that narrow path between irrational optimism and rational pessimism and I'm not sure that I want to go to either side. I'm angry at the hand I've been dealt, and fully aware that this world owes me no favors. Most frustrating of all, I know of no one around me that is strong enough or willing to hear about these feelings I hold within.

While this tempest rages inside of me, a thought comes to the fore that chills me. It freezes that roiling cloud of emotions and challenges me. Am I afraid to meet this new change in my life? A smile appears on my face as I realize that I am now that wanderer in Frost's poem who stands at a fork in his life.

Will I lament on that road I left behind, that path less traveled? I don't know and now I am weary. Maybe if I just sleep on it...

It's not you, it's me.

It's not you, it's me.

How many times has that been used as an excuse to break up with someone? Lately, it's been my excuse as well. Not to get out of a relationship, but to not get into one. I stopped keeping count of how many craz-- I mean interesting people I have tried dating, some that I have chosen to recount here.

Until recently, I had followed that mantra that the next one will be the one, and she won't have baggage that I can't stand to deal with. Of late, I simply stopped looking. I stopped caring if this person is interested in me, I stopped worrying about my appearance (I'm wearing an oversized sweater, ripped jeans, moccasins and I'm sporting a two week old beard around my chin right now), and I really, really am not at all interested in getting into any type of relationship anymore.

Does it surprise you that I said that I'm not looking anymore? I won't even point you to links of disaster after disaster that has been my lot for the past several woman I've expressed interest in. It's not that I'm discouraged or afraid. I've come to the opinion that I am indifferent to any overture to be involved with someone that intimately.

So, in the past month, what has happened? I went to that halloween parade in NYC, and had four different women grope or otherwise violate my person. One was bold enough to push herself against me and do a full frontal body rub. I am also one hundred percent sure she was all female and she wasn't at all unattractive either. Another wrapped herself around me pretending to use my shoulder as a tripod for her camera. (My valuables were inside my jacket, which was zipped closed.)

More recently, I was sitting in a secluded corner of my favorite office/restaurant, also known as Panera Bread. As I tried to study for a test, I looked up to catch this very attractive asian girl who had positioned herself so that she could be staring right at me. Only when I made eye contact did she turn back to her companion.

Another time, I was sitting at a $tarbucks and I was typing up a lab report. I caught movement outside the store window in the corner of my eye and glanced up only to see another young woman walking by. As I turned to face forward, she walked by with her boyfriend. She slowed down just enough to look straight back at me.

Tonight, I am working on more engineering lab work and looked up as I yawned. Only to make eye contact with another woman as she turned her head to look straight at me for more than a couple of seconds. Then she turned back to her conversation.

Lately, even getting up to walk to the restroom has been an occasion for women of various ages to look my way as I came nearby. I'm not even going to ask what these women see in me right now. I am dressed unfashionably, I need a hair cut (not to mention a shave) and I'm relatively broke to boot.

Either I was oblivious before or now that I don't even pay attention to them, I am causing them to pay attention to me. I can't believe that I was that unaware, so it must be the latter. So, with that in mind, I have to say to all of these women, "Hey, it's not you, it's all me". Not that I'm starting to feel hunted or anything.

A sunset on Long Island

Taken today:



It was 41*F and windy but I hardly felt it. It might be because I was wearing three layers of clothing and my winter jacket. For an hour or two, the fog of procrastination lifted in a flurry of activity when I decided I wanted to take a picture of today's sunset. I got there just in time.

I don't feel like working.

I haven't posted much lately. I could say that I've been busy, but I am starting to see that I'll probably be that way for much of my life. This realization has engendered a great desire to procrastinate.

Which is, of course, why I am not feeling motivated to be productive right now. Well, there's also another reason. I injured myself during a load-in a couple of weeks ago. I tore my rotator cuff slightly.

That isn't very clear. For the medical types, I didn't tear the tendons or ligaments, so much as the supraspinatus muscle. For the non-medical types, I have a muscle tear that hurts right on the outside part of the shoulder. Regardless, it hurts to move the arm and in some motions, I see stars.

So, I haven't been working much, and I've been laying about feeling sorry for myself. I've been prescribed some pain relievers and anti-inflammatory medication. That and muscle exercises to strengthen the muscles around the one that tore.

I have to say that the exercises are kicking my butt and that's without the weights I am supposed to do them with. With all this free time, I've actually been watching TV. I have a new show that I love to ridicul... I mean watch. The Shot on VH1.

Most photographers I know don't like getting surprises for every photoshoot. But, I guess being ready and having a well thought out plan would be too boring for a reality show. I almost fell out of my chair when the professional photographer said that one of the contestants didn't have to worry about lighting. Hey, if I had the thousands he has invested in lighting, perhaps I too wouldn't be worrying about lighting either. Ah well, must shove my envy back into its little box before it turns into jealousy.

So, I don't feel like doing anything largely because I can't do anything. I have been taking lots of random pictures, though. A tripod helps there. Perhaps if I can motivate myself, I'll post a few here.