Loss of All Control

It's 2 30 AM. I got here - the darkroom - at 7 45 PM, which means that I've been in here for almost eight hours. There are six speakers arranged within Elbert's room and mine. Yeah, okay. Only three of them work right now, but it's been very enjoyable to work with a booming bass and decent treble. Officially, I'm out of full-sized sheets of photo paper. On Monday, I hope to obtain a good stash.
Summer is here and that means a number of things. Most noticeably, campus has become a ghost-town, a shell. During the year, I wouldn't normally call Dordt full of life, but still something alive. Maybe it's not constantly in motion, but then, at least you could tell yourself that everyone is sleeping or on facebook.
Steady, tedious movements, but movements nonetheless.
Now there isn't even that - just an ominous wind that shoots around the caverns of what used to be the living quarters of students.
Again - yeah, okay. I know a good number of people that stuck around. And I'm looking forward to seeing you guys, regularly, this summer.
I found a few days ago that large amounts of sleep lead to bouts of depression in morning... or whenever it is that I wake up, lay in bed, and close my eyes again. It's better that I'm in here, working on images from the show. Hopefully Luke Society contacts me soon so I can start editing, so I can start working. Working, I mean, before I start a regular, wake with the sun, sleep with the moon, job. Organic farming, hooray!

A lot of people left for good the other day. Strangely, it took until the last couple hours of their residence here for Mary and I to have a lengthy conversation. It was really fun - heard an outrageous saga of fear, fear, near-death disaster, facades and then they got married and do things together like drive to Minneapolis for a puppy or purchase homes mostly for the sake of rebuilding it. Terrific - we'll see you guys sometime this summer.

Mostly, this post is something I'll use to put some thoughts into words. You know, to keep up on it. Also, for anyone else who will need some more time to adjust.

Best American Short Stories may have had their best year in 2004. The fourth story, Accomplice by Sarah Shun-Lien Bynum came very, very close to my favorite short story ever. And then I read the very next one, Screenwriter by Charles D'Ambrosio. Perhaps just as marvelous.

Despite the first, winding paragraph of emo, I'm really looking forward to the summer - largely because of these short stories and a discussion I had with my mom. It started as one of those, "What are you going to do with your life," deals, but it seems she was very excited about my pursuing writing, film, photography and that jazz. She even supported a potential culinary venture. What the heck? Maybe it was exactly what I needed midway through my college career. (Yes, it's still jarring to say that.) (Oh by the way, my dad asked me before this discussion if I felt lonely without a girlfriend. Hahaha!) Mom thinks I should work as a journalist for awhile, initially after graduation, to gain some experience and practice. Super smart. And then I told her that I really don't like working for people (it's not that I hate all authority - I love working with people - I think I could more productive, however, if I didn't have a 'boss.')

A lot of my friends are headed to LA Film school for senior year. Should I join them or should I take Chicago instead? Film or Writing? Mom, I'll be taking photographs wherever I go.