against a swirling cloud of regret and hesitance she remembers how the linoleum floor felt against her face–cold, unfamiliar, and dirty.

each of these was a welcome addition to a night of squalor, and for a moment, the ground felt like heaven.

the repeating patterns of the faux flooring was like a warm blanket. desperately, her mind tried to reconcile the squares and diamonds that she had overlooked for years.

at first glance they appeared three-dimensional, but with a second-glance, they were simply a pattern of the boring life that had become her norm.

tonight this was her refuge…
her tent on a warm summer evening.
her parents’ bed after a bad dream.
her emptiness at the end of a dialtone.

in the morning the dirt and grime of a bathroom floor would seem repulsive, but tonight they were all together allies…best friends and compadres in the war against the bullshit.

never take for granted your bathroom floor.

tonight mystery was happy to be with her new friend; she would let the morning deal with itself.

outside his house there was a sprawling tree, aged and full of life.

it held its branches high in a testament to a lifetime of faithful service.

as the winter breeze blew bitterly against his face, the leaves rustled ever so slightly.

he would sit for hours and admire it for its persistance and dedication.

it had been here as long as anyone could remember and never failed to follow through with its appointed task.

in the fall its leaves faded, fell to the ground, and gave way to the season.

winter had brought the cold and the rain, but it was unphased.

springtime would be here soon and the warm sun would bring new life and soon it would flourish again and this gave him hope.

he often wished he could have been this tree.
never waivering.
never offending.
never crying.
never making others cry.
surviving all of life’s trials.

he wished he could recreate himself in the springtime, shed his skin and be alive again.

as he sat staring, he glanced over and saw mystery standing in the shadows.

he tried to speak, but she was gone and he was alone again…wishing he was his dreaming tree.

last night i hung out with the nelson’s.

those kids really are alright. we enjoyed some mirassou and rented “ghost world”. i’d never seen ghost world, but knew that i couldnt go wrong with a scarlet johansson flick.

wasnt disappointed at all with the film and the whole “not fitting in” theme really hit home for a couple of us in the crowd…and scarlet’s voice is still incredible.

tonight im putting the finishing touches/revisions on a paper that im submitting this week for publication. writing up a science paper is so different that any other kind of writing.

understand that science progresses because of peer-reviewed literature and retains its objectivity by stripping out any emotion or subjectivity from the author. while this lends itself beautifully to science it personally kills every creative bone in my body. when im working on this kind of material i just cant seem to switch gears back into the kind of writing that frees my mind.

luckily, i have an incredible side-project going on right now that will be unveiled in the next couple of days. ive been working with an artist/friend who has given me a mental escape from science, the lab and life.

i cant imagine a healthier way to balance out my time.