I'm feeling grey, and a little blue.

I want to get a Siberian Husky pup somewhere along the line, and raise him or her from puppyhood to adulthood. The mere appearance of these very sweet canines just melts my heart. They are incredibly gorgeous. Not to mention, I have felt a remarkably close connection to nearly every one I've met. I seem to have a very close connection to this breed. Whenever I see a husky or similar-looking mix around here, I cannot help but gaze into its marvelous eyes and smile, then give his or her owners a dirty envious glare.

I may not be able to do such a thing for a couple or three years. At the very least, I would want to make sure I'm settled in somewhere for awhile, and have things together enough to commit to raising a dog properly. I would hate to have to move somewhere and "give away" or "sell" my loyal companion. Something does not seem right about that at all.

My mom tells me, "but Hawaii's climate is too hot for such a long-furred dog!"

Arf? Dogs have a panting mechanism for a reason, and I would make sure he/she had plenty of shade to romp or lay around in. I highly doubt the animal would be very uncomfortable. That is if I'm still in Hawaii when I decide to get one.

If for some petty reason I am never able to get a dog of my own, though, at least I can take solace in the fact that I can always adopt a highway.

The Big Idea

Something compelled me to go out tonight, for an hour. Just one hour. Actually, it probably wasn't even that long. Nothing extraordinary occurred outside of my own mind. (Do extraordinary things ever occur outside one's own mind?) Yet, I mark it as the most memorable event of the past 24 hours. Nothing extraordinary occurred, or perhaps the entire experience was so extraordinary that I am incapable of comprehending how extraordinary it was.

I was just wandering about the yard, basking in the jovial glow of the holiday lights as I have done every evening for the past week. As I have done every other night, I glanced up our lonely narrow road. Past a single streetlamp illuminating the dry, cool pavement with its dusty amber gaze, the road makes a 90° turn uphill, into a realm of darkness and whispering ironwoods. It ascends steeply, straight an an arrow, before writhing about in gentle curves beneath a dense tunnel of trees. A main by-way is crossed, itself rugged and underused as it twists around carved out forested banks. The road changes its name and becomes even narrower, dramatically curvier, and significantly steeper, always cloaked with the thick canopies of wind-taunted trees. It leads much farther up the mystical mountain slopes than I ventured tonight.

I brought my bike along. I walked it more than rode it up the road, but going back down, sitting, rolling, and brake-manipulating substituted for a mile of walking. The night was so dark, my fine-tuned night vision could not even perceive the road upon which I was traveling. It appeared to me as a deep narrow void, and I half expected to tumble into a canyon any second. I was that delirious... delirious with wonder.

The outlines of the trees that grew beside the road, their swaying tops visible against the overcast night sky, were my guides; those boundaries I knew I must stay between in order to avoid plummeting into a ditch. At one point I overhead eerie children's music emitting from a wooded area just above a steep bank alongside the road, and glanced up to see a small shack flashing with ethereal blue and green light. A shack where no one would expect there to be a home. Children singing in the brambles. The only other sounds I could hear were occasional rustles in the trees, the constant mellow drone of the insects, and the gentle breeze soaring through the trees. Easy breezy beautiful, and extraordinarily cool and dark.

After crossing the highway, I continued up the newly named road, but not far. I dumped my bike and sprawled out on my back upon a nice grassy ledge, not expecting any traffic. Portions of the sky were beginning to clear, and in these patches, the heavens appeared crowded with billions of brilliant cosmic lights. An ideal song played in my head, an elaborate song of entirely my own creation that was conceived only in my mind. I became unaware of my own body. No slight itches, no minor aches, no involuntary twitches that constantly remind one of their cursed blessing of participation in the physical plane of existence. I was alone with my mind and spirit, my body lost. I was convinced my soul and the one soul beside me were the last remaining on Earth. The world spoke to me very gently, through the chittering of very small critters and the whooshing of the air. Everything seemed to coalesce in perfect harmony.

It was then that I concluded that I really am beginning to believe less in coincidences, and more in a higher power.

I have always been highly spiritual, and have recognised and acknowledged that for years, but have never been religious. I have no intention of being religious, either. I believe spirituality is good, for I do greatly accord with the words of Socrates, "the unexamined life is not worth living." I do not, however, see the good in religion. I believe it is ultimately the root cause of much more damage and suffering than good. At this point in my life, I could never become brainwashed enough to subscribe to a conventional set of beliefs unless circuitry was implanted in my brain.

I do not wish to refer to this superior intelligence I perceive as "God," nor am I going to accept that it identifies with or should be classified into either gender or other human construct. I do not believe it serves or favours humans to any greater extent that any other organism on earth, microscopic or colossal. I do believe it is everywhere at once, and well beyond our capacity to physically sense. Humans did not invent the intricate and spellbinding mathematics of nature; the sublimely intelligent power did. Everything in nature serves a purpose, whether it is known to us or not. Everything exists for a reason.

So, rather than lead myself on to believe that life is based around a series of disconnected disposable coincidences, some of which seem so striking we are blown away by them, I am now much more content to accept that nothing is coincidental. Everything is connected. And when my mind first came to this conclusion, a profound sense of warmth and reassurance surged through me. I hadn't felt quite so sure about anything in quite some time. I have no reason to doubt the very essence of my soul, and what my heart tells me is right.

I feel like I have taken a very big step forward in my spiritual journey, tonight... and that is extremely fulfilling. I feel more connected with ... everything than ever before.

Anthropomorphic, planetary, planetary, anthropomorphic...

I have never much desired to play online multiplayer games, nor have I ever really undertstood their appeal. A few weeks ago, a friend of mine urged me to try out Second Life. I did download the game and install it on my laptop, but played only ten minutes into before my machine overheated ... moments before I would have become bored enough to quit voluntarily.

I believe my reluctance to play such games has much to do with an unwillingness to put in the effort required to learn the basics and build up my skill levels. More often than not, it seems like more work than fun, at least to begin with. Just as I have to "get into" a record for it to become a favourite, I would have to do the same with a game. The older I become, or rather, the more advanced video games become, the more difficult that is for me to do. I am simply not the passionate gamer I used to be. I have positively no interest in playing rubbish like Call of Duty: The Big Red Turd, Halo, Everquest, or Warhammer 40k Space Marine Assault Squad Premium Edition. The idea of even attempting to enjoy games like those is well beyond my ability to fathom. I would rather... read a book. Or write. Or wander around. PC gaming just isn't for me.

Regardless, I have been wanting to try my paw at Second Life again. I would like to have Akuro show me exactly what you're supposed to do in that game, and how you transform your boring, dull human character into a furry anthro as quickly as possible. Though, something about the game's name intimidates me. I really don't care to become addicted to the point where my "first life" seems to become secondary. The thought of some sweaty, obese nerd sitting at his computer for hours and hours stocking items in his virtual shop and building his character's levels for the next epic battle, before eventually going out to Taco Bell with his nerdy gamer friends and being unable to converse about anything but the game they just played just depresses the hell out of me. I never want to be like that, so I hope this game doesn't become "addicting." I think the game would be a fine way of meeting more new furs and having an enjoyable time for 1-3 hours per day.

As for video games in general, I believe I am simply going to forget about the present and future, as very little out there interests me at all. I want to catch up on some quality NES, SNES, and N64 games I missed. If I could replace all those X-Box and PS2 titles in my local Gamestop with the greatest NES and SNES games ever made, I would in a heartbeat. Then while the hardcore current generation gamers are off bragging about the premium graphics and awesome explosions on their military training simulators I would be sitting in my cozy little room playing my brand new copy of Secret of Evermore, becoming lost in a beautiful game that not only requires imagination, but also inspires it.

'Tis the season... to drink.

Good holiday drinks:

Dirty muther: 1 pt. tequila, 1 pt. Kahlua, milk
Egg nog & brandy
Egg nog liqueor
Red wine
Rum & cola
Jagermeister

Those are some of the beverages I have been enjoying as of late. Good quality alcohol accounts for a decent portion of the fun I have been having here lately. I can safely say I needed a real vacation like this. Interestingly, just sitting around drinking seems to make the time pass slower. Well, good... I am really in no hurry to see the new year. Though, I do have something to look forward to, besides finding myself a respectable full-time job and pleading to be let into a closed class. Susi found a flyer for some local "Electronic Music Festival" which he mentioned on the phone today. Definitely worth checking out!

A few hours out of today were spent replacing all four shock absorbers on my little rambler. The most difficult one, by far, was the left rear, as I had to work around the colossal muffler of much impedence with my wrench and breaker bar, and have specks of mud constantly falling into my face and hair. The front installations went much more smoothly, since the nuts were not near-impossibly tight and I could work from the side. I am glad I got that out of the way.

As for my future plans, in a nutshell, I need a job (and don't need any more reminding, either). That would lead to other things, such as being able to afford a better place to live than my present shoebox. Not that it's bad, it's just far from optimal. I wouldn't mind living in a place where any observer could clearly distinguish the living room from the bedroom from the kitchen. A private balcony would be a nice touch. In any case, it looks as if I'll be staying in Hilo for quite awhile, if things work out at all. I honestly don't have either the desire or the means to move to any other particular location right now. Yup, I guess I'll just have to continue putting up with all the rain, mold, and frogs. Such a dreary place to live... well, it wouldn't hurt my feelings if more people decided to move away. ^_^

I am anxious to see whether my degree in May will actually help me get involved in any 'important' work. I would like to think that what matters most is how hard you studied and what a dedicated hard worker you are, rather than who you happen to know, how good you are at showing interviewers what a perfect people person you are as you show your flawless set of snow-white teeth, and how many bullshit clubs and organisations you signed up for just to impress people. But I know better.

Looks like I'll just be "winging it." Hey, that's what I've been doing my whole life, so I must be good at it!

Just as I mentioned on FS, licking the battery contacts on the back of my cell phone results in a very unique sensation.

Whoosh.

On the island of Hawaii (also known as "the Big Island"), a 10 Megawatt (MW) wind farm at Upolu Point in North Kohala is under development by Hawi Renewable Development. Additional information is provided on the electric utility website: www.heco.com. From an article in West Hawaii Today: According to David Absher, Hawi Renewable Development's vice president, "Upolu Point is one of the best places in the U.S. to build a wind farm. The wind blows there 70 percent of the time." Also from the article: HELCO's contract with Hawi Renewable Development "will pay them what we would have paid to produce the same amount of power," according to Warren Lee, HELCO president. "That is, during peak hours (7 a.m. - 9 p.m.) they'll be paid 9.2 cents per kilowatt hour. During off - peak hours, they'll be paid 7.47 cents a kilowatt hour." The amount paid will fluctuate with the price of oil.

(http://www.hawaii.gov/dbedt/ert/wind_hi.html)

Well, I am ambivalent about this project. The site is a mere ten minutes' drive away, and lies on one of the most remote (and visually captivating) pastoral areas on the island. It is hard for me condemn something like this; a "clean" alternative energy source, where a great amount of power would undoubtedly be generated due to very reliable winds. This is a step in the right direction for less environmentally destructive power generation and cheaper electricity, and there is truly no better place on the island for it (other than South Point, which already has a dilapidated wind farm which really should be renovated). Even the zealots who think the sacred remains of their ancestors are buried on every square inch of the island probably won't complain! Really, it's nothing but grassland.

Even still, I foresee the completion of this project directly resulting in a decrease in real estate values. This prediction pertains particularly to the homes and future subdivisions located up the hill from the farm, from which views of the ocean will be obstructed by these massive towers whose bulging bodies no doubt glint brilliantly in the sunlight. Quite a few existing homes and future developments will be affected. I cannot neglect to mention the sentamentalist objection that having these structures visible from miles in every direction will greatly impact the atmosphere of the region which suggests desolation and wildness, especially near the sea cliffs. That I can identify with. Those things are nifty to look at, but hardly blend in with the scenery.

This place could use a development like this, though. The wind farm will most likely become a part of Hawi's identity, showing up in local signs, artworks, and symbolism. They'll probably even do wind farm tours! The world changes fast, and it usually changes for the worst. Depending on one's perspective, this could be an exception. My education compels me to care about things like this.

Early phase:

Rave up the night!

Another long day of shopping finally draws to a close.

Admittedly, I enjoy it this time of year. It is more gratifying to shop for others than for myself, and I had no shopping for myself to do on this go-around. Whenever I go to Costco I feel like a sweet-toothed cub in a candy store, what with all their exciting merchandise and excellent deals (DVD 3-pack with Waiting for Guffman, Best in Show, and The Mighty Wind- $18.99). More movies, more books, more items to fill that huge gap beneath the tree. Oh, the sheer materialism of it all. Jesus who? The good news is, I've done all the shopping I feel I'm obligated to do.

My biggest incentive for going with my mother on this trip was to spend some time in Kona. Wonderful town it is, especially after sunset. Heavy afternoon clouds often linger over the mountain after twilight, periodically cooling things down with nice, warm showers. The views of the town lights along the steep slopes on their descents straight to the sea are all lovely, and there is a great assortment of restaurants and bars to dine or drink at along the ocean drive. I have always found the atmosphere there in the late afternoon and early evening exceptionally pleasant, and there is certainly plenty to do, relative to where I am now at least. A little semblance of proper civilisation is certainly worth an hour's commute from here, a veritable outback-on-a-stick. When I feel like being in civilisation, at least. I don't believe there is a cozier place in the world than up here, especially when experiencing the warmth in the house while the wind, rain, and mountain fog dominates the outdoors. It's always pleasant to come home to, no matter how much fun I may have painting the town grey.





I have this very strange, primal urge to go camping one of these days. I'm talking tents, sleeping bags, a private little sandy beach by the sea, the whole Italian special. It's just a shame everyone I've asked is "too busy" or "too tired" to want to go with me. Oh well, I'm sure my dog wouldn't object!

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

I went to see this film not expecting a thing. After all, I had no idea what to expect. I had avoided reading any reviews or listening to any opinions of the movie for a week; I wanted to go in with a completely neutral perspective, and did not want my opinion to be swayed in the slightest before I saw it for myself.

Unfortunately, I had never even heard of Narnia prior to this summer. I now wish I could have discovered or been introduced to the literature when I was a child, which would certainly make its conversion into a major motion picture much more exciting for me. Though I had never picked up any of the books, I was still filled with a sense of glee as I strolled into the theatre. I had a strong feeling I would enjoy this film. Even the previews were enjoyable, featuring Over the Hedge (can't wait to see that one!), Ice Age 2, and Curious George. Well, forget about that last one; much too preschoolish for my tastes. But enough foreplay, allow me to concisely summarise my thoughts on the first Narnia installment, because conciseness is good.

I don't feel I even need to say it, but I will for the sake of proper courtesy. There are spoilers in this entry, so if you have not yet seen Narnia: W³ and don't want surprises ruined, read no further.

The first part of the movie, up until about the point where all the children find themselves in the wondrous land of Narnia, seemed to move rather slowly. Even my patient self found me getting a little impatient. Though, the source of my impatience could be very my anticipation of the exciting events that would surely unfold later in the film, so perhaps it was for the better.

The lamppost. Yes, I was given chills when I first laid eyes upon the lamppost. See, the lamppost at the edge of Narnia looks very, very similar to a recurring icon in my dreams that has been present in my sub-conscious for as long as I can remember. "The End of Time" location in the Super Nintendo game Chrono Trigger looks hauntingly similar to the place where that object resides- a place I have revisited in hundreds if not thousands of my dreams, far back as I can remember. It consists of little more than a platform surrounded by eternal misty void, with an eerie-looking lamppost planted right in the middle, somehow burning on even as time is at a standstill. When I first visited "The End of Time" in that game, I was absolutely convinced I was dreaming. When I saw the lamppost after Lucy first wandered into Narnia through the wardrobe, I thought I was dreaming. I was immediately taken to that familiar place. It is one of the things that defines my sub-conscious, and when certain images trigger conscious memories of that place, I am left a little spellbound. In other words, I was deeply touched by the movie very early on.

Mr. Tumnus the Faun is a loveable character, as was most certainly intentional. Though, my heart most certainly went out to the beavers, in all their glory and slaptail antics, and of course, the fox. Tilda Swinton plays a stunningly icy impression of the White Witch, which I feel captures the extent of her evilness and then some.

I recognised a particular location in the film captured by sweeping aerial footage: Angel's Window on the north rim of the Grand Canyon. It looked magnificent in the movie, covered with snow, but I found it amazing when I traveled up there in June of 2003.

It is simply a beautiful film all around. Much of the scenery is enchanting and spectacular, the special effects in action sequences are done very well, and the creatures are rendered marvelously. C.S. Lewis may have said he never wanted his novels to be converted into films, but he had no way of knowing just how realistically a talking lion could be rendered in the 21st century. Aslan is amazing. His facial expressions, body movements, everything... so convincing. The majesty of a lion, my goodness. I could have lost myself in his mane quite easily. The computer-generated wolves were quite breathtaking as well.

Though, a little blood certainly would have made things seem a little more passionate, especially where Aslan bares his fangs after mauling the White Witch. That scene needed blood dripping from his pearly white fangs. It just plain needed it, even if it meant a PG-13 rating. In my opinion, the movie was a little too intense for a PG rating, anyway. Maybe they'll wise up with the next film.

Oh, and I really loved the musical score. Very, very lovely and affecting, yet anything but overly dramatic and cheesy a la Lord of teh Rings.

Susi quickly expressed his loath towards the movie blatantly being used as a tool for marketing Christianity. No one can reasonably deny such a thing, because the evidence is abundant. I smelled Aslan's "resurrection" before he was even killed. And those evil, evil wolves! The difference between him and I is that it actually negatively affected his overall enjoyment of the film, whereas I managed to look beyond that truth and simply enjoy it for it what it was: a sensational, riveting, awe-inspiring epic fantasy tale. I can empathise with his cynicism but only to a degree, because I did not have the same experience as he did actually having to attend a Catholic school and be directly bombarded on a daily basis with mind-fucking Christian propaganda. Poor soul. Thank goodness he managed to get out from under all that shit. The wolf within prevails in those who are strong.

Over the hedge!

Finals are over. School is over. School is over? It hasn't even sunk in yet. It dragged on for so long and ended so quickly. The first fourteen weeks represented a long, gradual upsloping curve, a bit steeper in some areas than others, and as soon as the last two or three weeks arrived it became a downhill roller coaster and all I can do to avoid barreling uncontrollably down the mountain was hold on for the ride.

It seems I made it safely, though. Each of my exams were progressively more difficult, but not too difficult to get the best of me. I believe I did quite well. And now that all my projects are completed and submitted, and all my finals finished, I feel that the gorilla on my back has been vanquished. Now I am simply stuck with the monkey of having to find a decent job. That would certainly leave room for other things to hitchhike on my back, but I don't give piggie-back rides to just anyone.

Reselling a few of my textbooks got me $160; enough to blow on some presents for people. And that is good.

Friday was a day of celebration for Susi, Akuro, and I. We all got together in his furrymobile (a green Jeep Wrangler I christened "Lifty") and made the most of it. We enjoyed ourselves, yes, maybe a little too much. Well, no, there's no such thing. Our day together started off in the early afternoon, when we went to the New China Restaurant for another scrumptious buffet (the tofu and veggies are excellent). Unfortunately, the waitress parked us right next to some customers with an infant, but it must have been sedated or dead, because it didn't make a sound. I still hate babies and commercials with babies in them. They are far too many in both senses.

Borders was the next stop, and we spent some quality time in there... I sought out a couple of books for my parents, and found a book entitled "The Chronicles of Narnia for Dummies." Sweet mother of Heathcliff. They had to pick up a few things at Wal-Mart, and fortunately that errand was comparatively very brief. I would say it was like a zoo in there, but quite frankly I think tamed animals would be more intelligent and respectful of each other.

After returning home and dilly-dallying around for awhile (I found myself playing some ZSNES roms on Aku's new laptop- Secret of Evermore is a game I must get!) we headed up to the river and tripped around for awhile, eventually ending up at Boiling Pots uptown and roughing our way up to the waterfall. It was a very pleasant lightly overcast afternoon, and the water was... well, chilly, especially by the downdraft of the waterfall and the flurries of cool droplets it slinged at us. Even still, we full-on swam across the deep, choppy pool to another separate waterfall. Getting under it, or even close to it, was near impossible due to the surginess of the water underneath. Many laughs were had as we watched each other try as hard as we could to fight against the surge, failing miserably.

Swimming in a river in December. I think it's safe to say that is something neither of them ever did in Ohio or Germany. Since they have only been here half a year, it's always fun to show them enjoyable places to go they haven't yet discovered themselves.

It was also quite entertaining to watch a couple of teenage daredevils jump from the top of the main falls into the pool below, a good 40 or 50 feet at the least. A three-second 50 foot plunge was rewarded by a mile trek downstream, back to the main road, and up to the ford whence they started. It certainly looked worth it, though.

Back to the apartment again; showering the river water away and more messing about with amusing flash movies and games. It was quite a beautiful twilight. At around 6:45, we were headed off to see Narnia! At least, we thought we were. Vacant parking spaces seemed non-existent anywhere near the theatre. Eventually, we ended up going down a row of stalls into the only narrow one-lane alley in the entire mall parking lot. And it was blocked by a stalled car. Lovely place to let it die, guys. It took them a few minutes to get it pushed out of the way, and only when we parked, rushed over to the theatre, stood in line for another few minutes, and got almost to the front of the line that a sign was put up declaring that tickets for Narnia had sold out. It seemed it was destined not to work out from the beginning.

Consequently, we just headed back to the apartment and hung out some more, with the intention of returning for the 10:00 show. Fortunately, there was no trouble getting into this showing. After the movie was over, I drove back home from their place and relaxed for a little while before deciding to go out again on a rather epic moonlight wander of my own. The experience was exhilarating and enlightening, and I didn't get home until around 5:30 in the morning.

My full review of the film will come in a later entry, but for now, let me just say that I found it sensational. Wonderful, magnificent, riveting. It was great to see it in such magnanimous company. As for my afterhours excursion, that too warrants an entry all its own ... so much to write about, how could I ever get bored?

As for today, I think I did fairly well with Christmas shopping, having picked up a few -perfect- gifts for certain individuals. Really, there's nothing like the heightened exchange of commerce in the November and December months to get you in the "spirit." I did get just one thing for myself, a black Scarface t-shirt that fits me perfectly in size and message.

And I'm heading back to the warmth of home for awhile, at least until Christmas, and am dragging my computers back with me. One shall be used, the other sent in to the repair centre. A place it knows all too well...

It's time for a vacation. A long-awaited one. **Grabs a flavoured cooler, stretches out, and digs his feet into the sand, sticking his tongue out in hope for some rain**

Rotterrotterrotterdam, rotterrotterrotterdam, rotterrotterrotterdam, ROTTERDAM TERROR CORPS!

Wilde Provocation

I am fairly certain Christian conservatives like George W. Bush or perhaps even Pat Robertson, for example, would not approve of this message. In fact, the probability that they soil themselves in terror before exploring any deeper into the site than the first page is highly likely to be high enough to warrant the dismissal of a null hypothesis of no in-pants bowel movement.

In other words, isn't that lovely?

(Pardon the use of the unpopular blink tag; I just wanted to place a little emphasis on the link).

The two of us, so young and so wild
We can't find the cure to what has led us astray
Far apart from what we once were
and we both made a choice
there's no turning back from here
there's no turning back from here

But we have no aim, just keeping up the pace
Who's the best of us, who's the stronger one
Will it ever end?
This escalating game

We're reborn to live on the edge
Who's the bravest of us?
Who will live to tell?
I'm so scared of what we've become
As we double the bets, the proportions exceed ourselves
The proportions exceed our sanity

We have gone from meek to brave
And we're chasing a dream that never will come true
Letting go of all our fears
The unavoidable end is the enemy we defy

But we have no aim, just keeping up the pace
Who's the best of us, who's the stronger one
Will it ever end?
This escalating game
There can be only one


-"The Game" - Nightingale

My god, Swanö's voice in this song. Wow. Haunting shivers. That isn't usually something that grabs me and totally pulls me into a song in any type of metal... It's naturally magnificent, as demonstrated in some of his rawer material, but wow. Whoever produced this made it sound positively perfect.

And it certainly helps when absolutely everything else about the song is perfect as well.

I really, really hope this sensational band doesn't ever become hopelessly trendy to Dream Theater proportions. They're fine just where they are. So long as I never introduce them to VGC, I'm sure it'll all be fine.

You bring me closer to COD!

Daily discovery of today: nothing drowns out the annoyances of the world better than hardcore industrial music.

It would seem my car stereo was custom made for the genre, because it just sounds spectacular at the 24 or 25 volume notch. At that volume, I can barely hear me talk to myself, much less to a squirrel in the passenger seat. Admittedly, I enjoy giving a parade of obnoxious giggly girls, screaming kids, and rap junkies a taste of crushing aural ruthlessness. Nothing like 250 obliterating beats per minute to boost my adrenaline, get me thoroughly energized, and heavily stimulate my natural aggressive side. So who's up for dragging their sluggish Awesome Zombie vessels the hell out of my way so I can go home?

Awesome........awesome.......aweeeeeeeesooooooooommmmeeee

Yeah, I thought so. You know what's really awesome? Having to sit on the hard, dirty floor when you take your final because no seats are left. That's way too awesome. Awesome awesome awesome awesome awesome awesome awesome awesome awesome awesome. Phew. Garbage out.

It's true, though, my patience for dealing with people is at an absolute minimum when I'm tired, hot, and mentally fatigued. That is only natural, I suppose. I wanted nothing more than to simply get home as quickly as possible, and hide from the world until a couple hours into darkness. The daylight has simply been too bright, exposing the unpleasantness and mundaneness of ordinary human life much too vividly. I simply have no desire to be out walking amongst them in the sunlight; I find it quite depressing. I just feel like part of the herd. Overly exposed, ordinary, succumbing to the standard programme. Yuckaroo.

Fortunately, Hilo is an entirely different world at night. So is the entire island. In relative darkness, the imagination is forced to compensate for what the eye cannot perceive due to absence of light; light that would otherwise expose every angle, extinguish any sense of intrigue. And the necessary use of imagination results in a world of much more splendor, surrealism, mystery, and majesty. No small wonder I enjoy nighttime wanders so much. Most of the world that surrounds me is created in my powerful imagination ... and very little effort is required to achieve such an effect. It happens naturally. The raw beauty that is henceforth generated is breathtaking.

As for my obsessing over the merits of the evening lately, let me simply say that I have been wandering about in the great outdoors every night. I have consequently been more than a little "moonstruck," and more in touch with my liberated wolven side than I have been in a long time. And it's very gratifying, very. **Flashes a lusty bestial grin** Wheee, I'm feral! And pistachios! How green and salty and delightful they can be this time of year.

Little things, like being able to listen to great music along my ten minute drive to school, allow me to tolerate and in a sense, enjoy ventures out into the real world to fulfill obligations that aren't necessarily pleasant. Music is important. I take it very seriously. Hearing bad music on occasion is important for reminding me of the other side of the spectrum ... the one I prefer to isolate myself from as much as possible. But as they say... know your enemy well. That's right, be aware of those motherfuckers! Those screeching little bastard children who are soon to be converted into premium human sandwiches through the work of 10 tenderising claws and an industrial meat grinder.

**Rolls over on the floor, carving mystical designs into his chest with a Christmas tree air freshener** I want my fliptop lids, goddamnit. **Throws a baked potato at the weatherman**

Ah yes, as is obvious, my playful side has been in full force lately. Just wait until my last final is over and see how playful I am then! **Dons his santa hat** A nice little celebration of el fin de semester should occur on Friday. It's about time to get together with my homefurs and eat Chinese food again and see Narnia, finally. I miss spending time with 'em.

And... according to the bulletin board buzz, apparently there is someone on this island with the alias "DJ Dragonick" who spins rave/house music at full moon parties. **Raises eyebrow** Must get more info.

*splat*

Reflections of perfection.

"You live in a beautiful faerieland.

Outside my window, I see a 60year-old exhibitionist. Or the underchassis of my van when I park it in front of the window so as not to have to look at the naked guy. Sky? What is sky?

Trees?

Although, I am moving to a move scenic part of town. Next to a nature trail... and a vacuum factory. But you can't have it all. Except for you. And your nature."

-Raven

Fairly much everything she says is insightful, whether it may appear to even make sense on the surface or not. She is an inexhaustible source of inspiration, and a simple comment she leaves in my Livejournal can provoke me to dwell upon it for days.

And this one did. It encouraged me to start thinking and realising that very few have the opportunity to experience what I take for granted. Lovely views of a relatively clean ocean everyday. Deep green rainforest surrounding me everywhere, practically creeping up my apartment walls. Skies of the deepest blue, high amounts of rainfall, clean, fresh air.

An afternoon dip in a nice cool stream beneath a surging waterfall. A sky full of brilliant stars upon which to gaze. Places within walking distance to easily escape to and be all alone; places so secluded I could howl at the top of my lungs and no one would hear. A shirtless wander along the remote sea cliffs in mid-December.

During this early morning's moonlit wander, I was reminded of that comment. This is a faerieland. The truthfulness of it hit me when I recognised just how perfect everything was. I mean, flawless.

I was strolling down a narrow paved backroad through some sloping fields of high grass and dense trees, running parallel to the coast. The breeze was light, enough to keep one perfectly cool and comfortable, but not even enough to muss one's hair. It rolled off the mountains with a very satisfying coolness. Wind chill factor approximately 65° fahrenheit. It felt unlike most continental breezes, and I cannot hope to explicate why. The air on a Pacific island just feels different. Wildly so.

Everything was damp from frequent heavy rains. The air was heavy with moisture and the smell of rain, and the ground was soaked. The air felt so remarkably cozy, so familiar and tropical. The sweet fragrance of wild tropical flowers could be sensed periodically, but mostly, I smelled wet grass, trees, pavement, and of course, the nearby sea.

Contrasts are abundant. I looked out over the ocean and saw an endless horizon featuring mostly clear skies of a gorgeous royal blue, gradually darkening as I looked up. As I turned around to face upslope, I could see only the very verdant beginnings of a seemingly endless journey to a mountain towering almost two miles above sea level. Above these forestlands hovered wicked-looking rainclouds of the darkest shades, visibly gushing torrential showers against the moonlit backdrop as if draining a fresh wound. The upper tips of each of these bulging, towering clouds were highlighted by the near-full moon, the result being gorgeous celestial architecture. Castles in the sky of a breathtaking array of tones and textures. Tropical clouds. The kind you dream of floating on and riding up into heaven.

The greenness of everything could be detected even in the monochromatic featuring of the moonlight. I had seen it so many times before, and I was still completely dazzled. Such natural perfection above all else may be enough to get me to accept the possibility of an intelligent creator. Were these islands of impeccable gorgeousness created by chance? Could the natural conditions for living comfortably be so flawless by chance? A few specks in the middle of the Pacific Ocean could just as easily not exist. I could just as easily be living in New Jersey. Many more people live in New Jersey. Why am I here, in this place? This faerieland? Why was I even giving serious consideration to leaving anytime soon?

Amazingly, it still drives people away. The frogs are too noisy. The rain is too frequent. The career opportunities are too few. The price of food and real estate is too high. The first two I consider to be perks rather than turn-offs, and the latter two I consider worth fessing up for and dealing with. I am heavily nature-oriented, and the nature here is perfect. I belong here, it seems.

What did I discover tonight? A wastewater treatment plant. Naturally, I jumped the chain link fence and explored. The water in the pumped pools looked positively vomitrocious, but admittedly, it only smelled peculiar. Not bad, but not particularly pleasant either. Just a rather pungent mix of chemicals. I wasn't about to take a swim, especially after passing the section where muddy sludge water was burping up out of a large tank in big smelly bubbles. I didn't care to speculate on exactly where this "treated" water was entering the sea, either.

This outdoor escape came some time after completing a role play that ran over eight hours long. I simply got drawn into it, and did not feel compelled nor obligated to do much else on a bright sunny Monday. "Your paladin takes 224 damage from my level 69 premium sword. I pwnd u. I loloolololol'd. Get off my MUD." **Pushes up coke bottle glasses and snorts** No, I kid.

Doomed to be nocturnal, a creature of the night... yeah, I wish. I'm working on it, though! Sunlight is still incredibly overrated, but can be very pleasant when the conditions are right. Moonlight, on the other paw, is unconditionally exquisite.

I'll find a way to another dimension, far beyond reality

I have been listening to an awful lot of Nightingale lately. Well, the select Nightingale songs I managed to cram onto a CD-R, at least. It probably won't be long before I start burning all the albums onto CD's and start taking them with me on the road. This is one of those very special bands that greatly appeals to my musical sensibilities enough for me to become utterly obsessed with their music.

Nightingale's music is certainly more accessible than much of the hard-edged music I listen to, but still far from poppish (I suppose the song "Steal the Moon" could be an exception; it's catchy as hell and could easily be a mainstream radio hit). It's invigoratingly heavy and energetic at times, enchantingly somber and down-tempo at other times, and upliftingly dark overall. The melodies in some of the songs often leave me spellbound with their haunting beauty. The lyrical themes very commonly center around reincarnation and the afterlife, so I naturally find them appealing. My absolute favourite songs thus far:

Shadowman (Alive Again)
Shadowland Serenade (Alive Again)
Nightfall Overture (The Breathing Shadow)
The Dreamreader (The Breathing Shadow)
Deep Inside of Nowheere (The Closing Chronicles)
Steal the Moon (The Closing Chronicles)
Intermezzo (The Closing Chronicles)

I still have yet to obtain a couple more of their albums.

Then there is Another Life, the other band I have been obsessed with lately that I actually consider a counterpart of sorts to Nightingale. Perhaps that's because the illustrious Dan Swano is involved in both bands. To my knowledge, they still don't have an official album out yet, but the songs they made available for download I found quite marvelous: "Concealed by Fright" and "Reflections" in particular.

I haven't posted here in a couple weeks and all I can bring myself to write about is what music I have been listening to. How pathetic.