Belly of the Whale

Life in Missoula is slowly cementing itself, becoming more determinant and linear. Perhaps it is me. My mind is slowly adjusting, my routine is materializing, my odds-and-ins are slowly disipating and once again "my life" is emerging.

I love it here but the last few weeks, my return home, have been trying. I find I am less comfortable without a sense of order. My house needed to be unpacked, I was jetlagged, I had a wedding to attend, I've been fighting with my girlfriend, I've had three months of back-mail to sort, I've twice had unexpected guest come and stay, bills to pay, no car to run all these errands, my computer was confirmed dead on arrival; I had no money to pay for all this - and, on top of it all, I have had Giardia.

I feel great concidering. Things work themselves out. My home again is my own. Things are clean again. My classes and books are in order. I won't continue - but my health is returning. I am stoked about all that is around me. My work is to study William Blake and the Bible - how great does life get? What more could I ask for my time. I have two classes completely devoted to my own writing. I have a four and a half day weekend and a full load of classes (12+ credits)

Who really cares anyway? Who is out there anyway? What is this site for now? I don't know what I am saying: life is good, maybe. Missoula is wonderful and this summer has given me so much to work with, so much direction now and for the coming years. I have found a sort of path to my dreams. That, perhaps, is exciting, but I will leave it for now. I must retain some secrets shant I. What does "shant" mean? I haven't a clue but it really wanted to go there and I am not in a rejecting sort of mood.

I have some stories that soon I will put on this page. I just want them to be in good form. "Thie Testement of James Cantey" is not in good form as a short story, but it will be a while maybe before anything is done about it. So I threw it out there. I reject nothing, nothing.

Here is a feeling: I hope I don't hurt people's feeling this semester. I fear I have so little time to give. I have choosen this, I know. But it means I have offered my friends dearly little time, very little of myself. I myself have taken it personally when friends of mine have withdrawn themselves.

I have to choose: what is most important right now. I am so excited to be in school but it is all consuming. I give it everything and there is little left. There are so many people whom I love and admire and I want them in my life - but this semester they fall forfeit to my desire to push and grow. This pains me but is my choice all the same. Will I be forgiven? Will people understand and wait or adjust?

Is this temporary or is it permanent?

When was the last time I was home to see family, for how long?

Does the possible future show any reconcilliation?

These are shadowy questions without heartening answers I fear. But this is life and choices come at a cost at this point on the road. There are many paths and I am glimpsing mine, but it is difficult and solitary and remote. Will I retain the support and love of my friends even if I take myself away from them? Will this sort of singular, distant communication suffice for personal contact? Am I worth the effort? Is my mail or writing worth reading and responding? I get so precious few responses already, when I am not so distant, as of yet hardly removed at all.

I wonder if anyone even realizes what I am refering to? I am speaking out of my heart and dreams without being willing to spill those actual contents onto the net. Perhaps I should. But I feel that making them materialize, makes them concrete, a sort of contract that I am then bound to because I have made "it" known. I am not yet so certain.

I will end with this confusion and think. Good Day
Namaste - jonah

PS - god bless all today, peace, for 9-11