CAMPUS BRAIN
Campus Brain
I believed I knew what I was doing, I have walked this campus as many times as I can count. I’ve walked between the trees that line the grass courtyard, I’ve walked the pavement from the parking lot to the doors. But as I walked today I asked how can I show this campuses that I’ve walked so many times differently?
I walked the path I was most comfortable with, passing a few students going to and fro. Never making eye contacts. I turned my head, so eye contact was never to be made, and my paced quickened just enough to only catch the glare of her cell phone for a split second. I moved over a few steps on the path, so contact was not a possibility. If I didn’t move over, if I had made eye contact or slowed my pace to catch her glimpse more a second longer or even a faint still smile could have invoked a conversation or a simple “hello”. I don’t talk to those I don’t know, even the people I do know I don’t talk to very much.
A few cars pass the silent almost cemetery silent and still parking lots. A few zipped past like it was there last ride, others in no hurry to go home it seems. The air I could only wish I could smell. This cold is really getting the better of me. I stopped for a moment to feel the heat coming from the sun as I walked from shade of a tree to pure sun shine, to shade of the tree then to pure sun shine, over and over again down the path from one parking lot to another. As I walked into the building to go to class, just as I reached for the door I stopped. You don’t really have to go back, do you? Why can’t I just stay out here? Its warmer, the air is cleaner, and birds sound so much better than the instructions for homework. But I still opened the door, the trapped air in the building rushed by my face in a shallow and unwelcome hello back to school. As I climbed the stairs one after the other, I looked out the windows that line the wall and wondered how my life could be different, what got me to where I am now, what do I really want to change? These things have weighted heavily on my mind like an elephant squeezing itself into my brain cramming and moving all the things that I already didn’t think could all fit in there. It’s a busy and crazy place, my brain. If only I could be next to the one that I can release all the crazy things the are created in there.
Why does she love me? Once again that same thought runs into my head, sometimes it makes me scared, terrified at other times. This wasn’t something a few months ago I believed I could think about. I never thought I could really find someone who could take my mask off. The person behind my mask isn’t a fun person to be around. This person is only let loose at the darkest time of the night, behind a locked door, and never truly released. He can’t be left alone, can’t be trusted and isn’t very nice. But every once and a while he can throw up a picture, a poem or a story that he believes is just kind of okay. But others will say “it’s amazing”. But he really knows that it’s not that good. He never shares these things with the ones he lives with, he keeps them guarded, safe, trapped at times and alone. The desk that so many papers have been written, pictures drawn, and ideas crushed. He hides them there because they can’t be let out. But somehow, she makes it, so they are safe to escape. She doesn’t get scared by them, at least she doesn’t show it at first. There are problems that I have that scare her, but she has some that I believe that are scarier then the person behind my mask. She says that she loves me, and other times I can’t believe it. I am never certain about a decision I make. I will always doubt, always question, always overthinking. I overthink way too much, it’s not a good thing, not helpful in anyway, not what I need at this moment.
People speak 110 to 120 words a minute, but we think 1000 to 3000 words per minute. That means no matter how much you talk, no matter how much you type, text, draw, or write. Absolutely nobody will fully understand what you truly really think. That’s my case, that’s my problem, that’s what I can’t stand. And that is why I wear this ugly mask. This ugly mask is quite as a fox, soft as snow, clean and pure as a devote catholic sitting on the front row each Sunday morning. I’m not like that, I’m not as clean and pure, quiet or soft like every person on the face of this earth believes... except for one person Her.
She hears my pains, she listens to the rambling, the nonsense, the troubles I have in my heart and my head.
Imagine a single fish, alone and in a tank, there is a plastic plant in the corner, colorful small pebbles on the bottom of the tank and the water filter humming in an annoying low rumble. I am that fish. At least I feel that way, nothing gets in this glass tank. And nothing really gets out. I don’t want others in my tank, like a betta fish when another betta fish gets put in. I like being alone, I can think what I want. I can talk out-loud about the weird, useless, mean, impulsive, narcissistic things that can flow like a waterfall from the front of my face. The tank gets full of dirty words, and the water can get really muggy and sad. But I like being alone, I can punch the walls, curse at God, and question life in a never-ending wave. I don’t talk with others about my deep ideas, except her. I can tell her anything, I can.
As I walked down the hall into the class room I walked in and took my seat. I pulled my laptop out and the teacher stood up. She said you have an assignment and its to write about what you’ve felt as you walked into class.
Campus Brain
I believed I knew what I was doing, I have walked this campus as many times as I can count. I’ve walked between the trees that line the grass courtyard, I’ve walked the pavement from the parking lot to the doors. But as I walked today I asked how can I show this campuses that I’ve walked so many times differently?
I walked the path I was most comfortable with, passing a few students going to and fro. Never making eye contacts. I turned my head, so eye contact was never to be made, and my paced quickened just enough to only catch the glare of her cell phone for a split second. I moved over a few steps on the path, so contact was not a possibility. If I didn’t move over, if I had made eye contact or slowed my pace to catch her glimpse more a second longer or even a faint still smile could have invoked a conversation or a simple “hello”. I don’t talk to those I don’t know, even the people I do know I don’t talk to very much.
A few cars pass the silent almost cemetery silent and still parking lots. A few zipped past like it was there last ride, others in no hurry to go home it seems. The air I could only wish I could smell. This cold is really getting the better of me. I stopped for a moment to feel the heat coming from the sun as I walked from shade of a tree to pure sun shine, to shade of the tree then to pure sun shine, over and over again down the path from one parking lot to another. As I walked into the building to go to class, just as I reached for the door I stopped. You don’t really have to go back, do you? Why can’t I just stay out here? Its warmer, the air is cleaner, and birds sound so much better than the instructions for homework. But I still opened the door, the trapped air in the building rushed by my face in a shallow and unwelcome hello back to school. As I climbed the stairs one after the other, I looked out the windows that line the wall and wondered how my life could be different, what got me to where I am now, what do I really want to change? These things have weighted heavily on my mind like an elephant squeezing itself into my brain cramming and moving all the things that I already didn’t think could all fit in there. It’s a busy and crazy place, my brain. If only I could be next to the one that I can release all the crazy things the are created in there.
Why does she love me? Once again that same thought runs into my head, sometimes it makes me scared, terrified at other times. This wasn’t something a few months ago I believed I could think about. I never thought I could really find someone who could take my mask off. The person behind my mask isn’t a fun person to be around. This person is only let loose at the darkest time of the night, behind a locked door, and never truly released. He can’t be left alone, can’t be trusted and isn’t very nice. But every once and a while he can throw up a picture, a poem or a story that he believes is just kind of okay. But others will say “it’s amazing”. But he really knows that it’s not that good. He never shares these things with the ones he lives with, he keeps them guarded, safe, trapped at times and alone. The desk that so many papers have been written, pictures drawn, and ideas crushed. He hides them there because they can’t be let out. But somehow, she makes it, so they are safe to escape. She doesn’t get scared by them, at least she doesn’t show it at first. There are problems that I have that scare her, but she has some that I believe that are scarier then the person behind my mask. She says that she loves me, and other times I can’t believe it. I am never certain about a decision I make. I will always doubt, always question, always overthinking. I overthink way too much, it’s not a good thing, not helpful in anyway, not what I need at this moment.
People speak 110 to 120 words a minute, but we think 1000 to 3000 words per minute. That means no matter how much you talk, no matter how much you type, text, draw, or write. Absolutely nobody will fully understand what you truly really think. That’s my case, that’s my problem, that’s what I can’t stand. And that is why I wear this ugly mask. This ugly mask is quite as a fox, soft as snow, clean and pure as a devote catholic sitting on the front row each Sunday morning. I’m not like that, I’m not as clean and pure, quiet or soft like every person on the face of this earth believes... except for one person Her.
She hears my pains, she listens to the rambling, the nonsense, the troubles I have in my heart and my head.
Imagine a single fish, alone and in a tank, there is a plastic plant in the corner, colorful small pebbles on the bottom of the tank and the water filter humming in an annoying low rumble. I am that fish. At least I feel that way, nothing gets in this glass tank. And nothing really gets out. I don’t want others in my tank, like a betta fish when another betta fish gets put in. I like being alone, I can think what I want. I can talk out-loud about the weird, useless, mean, impulsive, narcissistic things that can flow like a waterfall from the front of my face. The tank gets full of dirty words, and the water can get really muggy and sad. But I like being alone, I can punch the walls, curse at God, and question life in a never-ending wave. I don’t talk with others about my deep ideas, except her. I can tell her anything, I can.
As I walked down the hall into the class room I walked in and took my seat. I pulled my laptop out and the teacher stood up. She said you have an assignment and its to write about what you’ve felt as you walked into class.