Hah. The kind of an observation that can only be the product from the mind of a small child. I miss those simple times, the basic "if x then y" logic that was so obvious and unquestionable. Not having to worry about working overtime to pay for school or where you're going to park your fancy-schmancy super-cool 15 year-old Acura "sports car". Heh.
This week I discovered a thing called TSD Rallying (Time Speed Distance), where the objective is to be as close as you can to maintaining an average speed in between different stages. These take place on paved and dirt roads, over a total course length of 100-700 kilometers. Cars are staggered by one minute, so you'll seldom come in direct contact with another driver. The best part? After paying the $70 registration fee, any road-legal car can participate. A quick look through some online classifieds show that there are fistfuls of Cavaliers and Neons that can be had for around $500. Feels like a rather reasonable/cheap investment considering it'd be the easiest way to get into freaking rally driving. It's the kind of thing that's so approachable and easy to get into. I really wish I had known about it earlier, particularly before starting school. I spent so many years working and going home to spend my time gaming or drawing or browsing the internet. Not necessarily bad things... But they certainly pale in comparison to what I could have been doing once a month or so with an old beat-up car. Maybe next summer. If not, I will be doing it three to four years from now.
I slept in this morning. I didn't even set the alarm. It's probably the first time I've intentionally done so... In a while. I even took Saturday off - I did it once for the long August weekend, but aside from that I simply can't recall the last Saturday I didn't go to work or spend the whole day on school assignments. Christmas break, probably.
Why am I slacking off right before the start of school? I'm tired. In the bones. But I came on this realization when I got my paystub for August. Turns out that over the past two months I've logged 120+ hours of overtime at work. Not bad, I guess. Three weeks of full-time work accumulated within eight. I'm sure I could turn that into some sort of clever ratio or percentage, but I'd rather not like to know. On one hand it's a relief - it'll probably pay for three months of rent. On the other hand... I feel like I've wasted away a big chunk of my summer. I could've done more. I should've done more. Being the summer, I got a pretty sorry case of the lazies. Hopefully I can jump back on the horse in short order. Well, I'm not going to have a choice in the matter.
But now the clock winds down. I have little time left in my summer, and I've tried to make the most of it. Watched some movies, played some games with friends. The last thing on my bucket list is to do some laser engraving, watch one last movie, and play my sax/ocarina. I'm not convinced I'll be able to get to all of them, especially considering classes start on Wednesday, I work tomorrow, need to get my supplies ready, the movie is 3hrs long, and... I'm all sorts of stressed out. Bleh.
Of course, I say this like there won't be any time or opportunity to do these things while I'm actually in school. Which, unfortunately, is most likely the case. I desperately want to convince myself that the second year will, of course, be much better than the first. It's not a crazy notion to hope that things will get better, right? Well, any which way I look at it I don't think it'll add up that way. I won't be working, sure. But there'll be even more hours in class and more homework. I've done the math over and over, skewed it this way and that, and I can't find a way to manipulate it to look encouraging. At best, it'll be a repeat of last year (except for a more rapidly draining back account, due to not being able to work). At worst... I dunno. Last year was rough. I dunno how it could get worse. During the first year, we had a bunch of presentations by senior year students, and they all said that second year was the toughest. Go figure.
But there are good things about school to grasp like straws and cling to, right? There are some decent people it'd be nice to see again. There's a lot of incredible talent and amazing artwork to behold. One of the great things about art school is that you can't take anything for granted. Nothing is strange. Well, let me rephrase that - there are plenty of weird things that come out of that school. But if you see something that feels out of the ordinary - some peculiar graffiti or an odd arrangement of litter - you can't take it at face value, because it might be "art".
At the end of one day, I was leaving class and walking through the main mall to head out to the parking lot. Littered across part of the floor was a field of popcorn. Sure, you'd think it was garbage, that someone had dropped a container of everyone's favourite buttered snack. But no, at art school you can't make such assumptions. I stood and watched for a few minutes while other students, trying to leave campus, carefully tip-toed through the mess. Not a kernel was disturbed, less a delicate or intentional pattern would be upset. It was funny. Before long, it was my turn and I did the same. I have no idea if I was being watched, or if it was an art project or not. This kind of a thing is a regular occurrence by now. Something that I'm used to, something that I don't really bat an eye at. But it's still an amusing notion, when something you'd expect to be unusual is just ordinary, and vice versa.
My sleep has been... Agitated lately. Just like being awake. A bundle of nerves, a bundle of nerves. A perpetual state of uneasiness. I'm being tortured by the butterflies inside me. I woke up early Saturday morning - forfeiting whatever precious rest I may or may have not gained by sleeping in - to watch the sun rise. So I got in my super cool sports car and drove to a park - one that's practically comprised of a single, bumpy, rolling hill. I walked to the top, stood in the (surprisingly warm) early morning breeze, and took a few shots. I brought along my iPod and headphones, but oddly enough they stayed around my neck. I just kinda took it in. Listened to the wind in the grass, the birds, and the waves of traffic pulsing by the road below. It was nice. A peculiar, isolated moment of peace.
Anyways, the movie I've been watching while writing this has drawn to a close. Just like my summer. I'll survive the next eight months, right? There's TSD rallying on the other side to look forward to. Three more years. Three more years.
-Cril
I want to run
I want to hide
I want to tear down the walls
That hold me inside
I want to reach out
And touch the flame
Where the streets have no name
I want to feel sunlight on my face
I see the dust cloud disappear without a trace
I want to take shelter from the poison rain
Where the streets have no name
Derek Webb - Where the Streets Have No Name
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