<< back | next >>


peak:

I've felt confident all day... er... well... since sometime during my 2 p.m. class. When, for no reason, I became happier.


valley:

I'm feeling better about it, but the infamous script is still not written.


noise:

The rattle of an air vent from the student union building's elevator shaft... And the roar of the large a/c units cooling the building.


sustenance:

Hamburger pizza.


thoughts:

Thinking about a time when I pulled the staffers outside and into the courtyard for our staff meeting... because it was just so damn pretty.


365:

No entry.


tuesday, october 9th

home  |  bio  |  masthead  |  quotes  |  morgue  |  speak up  |  livejournal

   
Quote Du Jour:
"It's almost like the hard times circle 'round... A couple drops and they all start coming down... Yeah, I might feel defeated, I might hang my head, I might be barely breathing but I'm not dead. Tomorrow's another day and I'm thirsty anyway... So bring on the rain" - (Jodee Messina with Tim McGraw, "Bring On The Rain")

There are two entrances into the building where the student publications offices are housed. We're on the second floor of a two story building and both entrances are at the top of outdoor concrete stairways.

One end of the building is our primary entrance and exit as that door offers easy access to the parking lot. The other exit leads out and down to a court yard. We have a little balcony of sorts on that end... and an awning to protect us from the elements. For the latter reason alone, this entrance is the "smoker's porch."

I don't smoke. In fact, I've never had a cigarette. I've never even tried one. I am, however, probably addicted to second-hand smoke. I've always followed the smokers out to the porch during their smoke breaks so that I could have a little slice of their cancer. Well, that... And I didn't want to be the only one left inside. You don't want to miss a smoke break because there's almost always good conversation out there.

From that spot, you have a fairly good view of the southern edge of campus. You can see the lights from the football stadium, the lighted facade of our high-rise dorm, into the offices of the administrative floors of our mammoth library, the student union, a couple of classroom buildings and the courtyard -- where I'm sitting now to write this entry. This is a pretty cool place to be... one that I think gets overlooked often (even by me).

The courtyard is enclosed on three sides by buildings... one side is glass windows, one side is all yellow brick and the third side is a combination of the two. The brick wall is practically covered by a row of small shrub-like trees... and the courtyard features an open spot near its center with a nice sized pine tree. With all of the green, you certainly don't feel enclosed.

The funny thing about not feeling enclosed is that you really are. Depending on where you sit, your view is limited to little more than the buildings that surround the courtyard and the sky above. That -- and the breeze -- is why I'm out here now. I need to be writing a script and I could think of no better place to do that... or, at least, not better place to get a a good start.

I'm not sure why, but the courtyard always seems to have a breeze blowing through it. I find that particularly odd, because once the air blows in, it seems that it would have no place to go... but what would I know? I'm no meteorologist. Another thing that's different about the courtyard lately is the sweet smell of peaches that drifts through it. I don't understand this because there are no peach trees anywhere near... and even if there were, is October peach season? I wouldn't know. I'm no horticulturist.

I also don't know any good reason for telling you about the view from the student publications smoker's porch... or how the courtyard where I love to go but never do feels. I just walked out of the building tonight and said to myself, "I think I need to tell them about this."

You know about my academic performance (or lack thereof), my loves, my lusts and the thoughts from the innermost part of my brain... but I rarely tell you what it looks like in my world. I rarely describe the images that are as big a part of my life as anything else. I'm glad that problem has been remedied.

copyright © 2001, Thomas Fletcher. all rights reserved.