Thursday, October 26, 2000


BEGINNINGS : Journal Entry #1 - Signs

Sent: 10/25/2000 11:26 PM

New York City is covered by low, gray clouds making the city seem as if it is nighttime in the middle of the day. You know these kinds of days. It is one of those rainy days that you find yourself staying indoors only to look at the window occasionally to see if it has let up enough to go outside and get food.

I finally managed to roll (literally) out of bed at 5:30 p.m. today. Sleep. It has become my best friend as of late. And right now, as I type this note at 7:30 p.m., it is already calling to me from under the comforter. "Chad, you're sleepy. Come back to bed." Not surprisingly, it is taking every ounce of willpower that I have to keep focused on this note and to deny Sleep's pleadings.

I really can't explain what is going on with this sleep lately. I don't feel depressed per say, although I'm not bubbling from happiness by any stretch of the imagination. There is a part of me that wants to feel sad, that wants to cry, that wants to say, "This life sucks," but, unfortunately, I can't seem to grasp that part of me. It feels as if the Paxil has placed a wall between me and that level of depression, and no matter how much I crave the saddness, I can't seem to find myself there - in that most comfortable of places. Alas, instead, I sit here somewhere in between, like purgatory, not feeling heaven or hell, just waiting for entrance to one or the other. And God knows how I hate waiting. Patience is certianly not something I have or am good at.

Definitions. I like definitions of things. I don't like the gray shadows that linger and creep behind things. I like to know what the things are. It makes me wonder why Peter Pan wanted his shadow at all, for it wasn't really him, just an undefined extension of him. HE was what was real; his shadow was merely his body or parts of his body blocking light. Even now, as I watch the shadow of my hand type along the keyboard, I know that it isn't me, it isn't defined, it's an abstraction of me. And I guess that's the way I feel about a lot of my life. There are a lot of things that are there, but undefined. My job. My exsistence. It seems that there are a lot of shadows, but I can't seem to find the actual object that blocks the light. Alas, I digress.

There was an image that came to my mind the other day. It seemed to speed into my mind like an express train through a local stop. It was the image of being a little boy and riding my bike home from playing with my friend Donnie Hawks one day. I guess I was about 10 years old at the time. Once I turned the corner of my street, I noticed in the sky, between the line of trees on either side of the street, hundreds upon thousands of dragonflies were darting here and there. It actually looked like a dark cloud of bugs hovering above the street. It was frightening but strangely exciting as I knew that I was going to have to race down the street towards my home under this scarf of insects.

Then, without warning a flock of birds swept down from one of the tall oaks on the street and began attacking the insects. Above my head a war was engaged, and my feet could barely pedal fast enough. I was in a state of terror but awe as I watched this battle above me.

What I find most strange today, is that at the time, all I could think of was the Bible and the plagues brought upon the Egyptians. Everything seemed to have some sort of Biblical, mystical overtone, and I remember thinking as I rode my bike towards my home, that this was a sign. A sign of something. Nature was the voice of God, and he was trying to tell me something.

I find myself doing that quite often even now, and sometimes it makes me wonder if I'm crazy. For instance, walking down the street, and there, in front of me was a lightening bug, a firefly in midtown flying down 8th avenue right in front of me. What did that mean? I felt like it had to mean something. I find myself consumed by images, and because I want answers so badly, I look for clues in them. Is that crazy? Is that inspired? Is that spiritual?

In any case, this is all I have to say today.


August 12, 2000