Cough Cough Dead

There's a certain feeling that passes through and invades your body when you are about to get sick. It begins with a sort of cloudiness that fogs and darkens your vision like a thick storm unleashing a torrent of rain and lightning upon your brain. You can't focus, you can't think, and it seems like you could never get enough sleep. Along with this fogginess follows a nagging ache that creeps into every joint of your body and pries into your bones, making you shaky and weak, like every footfall is a great earthquake shaking your system. The pain lingers into your head as your sinuses slowly fill with mucous and snot, pressing against your brain and your face making each nerve under each tooth sting and every hair on your head to burn in agony. Beads of sweat pool on your blood-drained skin and soak into your clothes as your internal climate rises like a slow cooker for your internal organs.

All of these are hardcore warning signs of a cold, or a general sickness. Last week, I didn't feel ANY of these, but now this week I am stuck with this horrible cough, fevers, chills, antibiotics, and an annoying trip to the hospital where I'm asked question like:

"Are things okay at home?"

"Do you do drugs?"

...and, my favorite:

"Have you been around anyone with bedbugs recently?"

"YES! I'M LOUSY WITH BEDBUGS!! GIVE ME A BED!!!"

Someone tell me I'll get better soon...

Why is Ashley not looking at the camera? No one knows.

Rain

The sidewalk glistens in a malaise of oil and rainwater,
But at this point it doesn't matter.
The beat of the music in my head crawls to my shoes which skip through the puddles, scraping water from the
Ground while I swing the umbrella from side to side.
The heavenly ointment unleashes in torrents from the clouds,
Baptizing me in absolute happiness.
Each droplet on my face is a splash of joy.
Each step I take is a thought of you.
As the rain embraces me, I smile a curious and wide grin,
And drink up the tears of the sky.

Sense Memory

I love, love, LOVE the fall weather hitting Vermont right now. It's like a cold and clear breath of life that takes your heart in its grip and transports you to worlds of memories long forgotten yet still reminisced about. Upon each stinging breeze rides an image of crinkling leaves, the smell of apple cores and pumpkin spice, or the scratchy feel of a wool scarf on the skin. The chill which takes root in the feet and travels up each individual vertebrae to each follicle of hair holds a physical bond to day trips through an enchanted forest and afternoons spent on train tracks. The taste of dust and the feel of grit between teeth is a flash back to dirt roads and the hidden groves to which they lead.

Each memory dances with the senses in a waltz that began at birth. Each physical presence individually linked to an emotion draws me back yet pulls me forward at the same time. While I muse over the events and the feelings of the past, I am still pushed forward by a thirst for more. I long for more emotion, more feeling, more of the "breath life," for the essence that makes me utterly human. We long for the memories in life because that is what draws us forward, the longing and desire for future memories. We beg for new smells, feelings, and images that will give us retrospect to the events of our past and bring our lives in a circle.

Stepping from the front door, the fall's evening zephyr energizes my lungs and my body, propelling me forward into the sunset's lighted shadow. The leaves hanging stiffly from the trees' branches sway and crumple as they draw near to each other in anticipation of what is to come. Drawing my scarf closer to my throat, I walk along the broad sidewalk with heavy footfalls. The clouds above seem to sway lightly, taking in the moment below. I clutch my books to my chest and keep walking, observed and observing...

Hurricane Irene

Life has been like a whirlwind since beginning the new school year, the days blowing by like clouds long past the horizon. It has been a major adjustment to switch from the comfort and blissful emptiness of summer UVM campus to the bustling, bro and biddie-filled campus in my Wills nest with Joe, one of the most peaceful locations on campus (when the door is closed). I've seemed to transcend a summer of leisure, occasional work, and sun to another world of constant work, schedules that have me running constantly, and colder weather. There is something deeply rewarding for me to be constantly busy, however. It is that amazing reminder that tells me that I'm doing something with my life, and that I'm definitely not letting myself go to waste. As I get more and more busy, and my planner gets so full it defies the boundaries of the page, and colder air permeates Burlington, I look forward to the promise of fall: of holidays, foliage, the smell of pumpkin spice, fresh apples, good and hearty food, and warmer clothes that allows every being to bundle up and get cozy with the ones they love.

A couple of Saturdays ago, my niece Iris turned one!

There was a full-on double rainbow glowing in the sky during one of our Hairspray rehearsals. It was honestly one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen in nature.

The start of school was delayed one day at UVM because of the wrath of Hurricane Irene. Megan, Ashley, and I holed ourselves up in the Spinner Place apartment while the storm raged outside. At first, the "storm" was quite anticlimactic. There was a piddle of rain, and not even the slightest rumble of thunder. Slowly, however, the clouds turned the sky completely black and the rain picked up. The Winooski river began to rise and raged its fierce power, boasting with the overflow of water. Meanwhile, the rest of Vermont was being swept away, the power of water rearing itself upon the land.

'Dis bitch.

As the storm battled against the earth outside, news reports rolled in about the devastation happening throughout Vermont. There were videos of bridges being swept away and pictures of towns in Southern Vermont being cut off from the rest of the state because of the flood waters. In the morning, the sun timidly  rose to illuminate the aftermath. Burlington was beautiful, the rainwater glistening in the high sunshine, and the city was not highly devastated.

The Waterfront was beautiful.

In a way, the beginning of the school year has been just like Hurricane Irene. Everything has been so crazy and disorganized to start with, but hopefully now I've started to get a better control. It's another wild start to another insane school year.

Oh, and....

Peace out!

Dear Boys

Please flush the toilet after you use it. I don't care if you're drunk, I don't care if you think you're wasting water, flush your disgusting bodily functions away, especially your puke which does not belong on the floor. Also, please work on your aim. I know some of you may be aspiring Jackson Pollocks out there, but the Wills first floor bathroom is not the place to practice. Please don't leave your moldy soap in the showers for it does not make me feel clean. Please don't leave your stereo blasting in the bathroom when I have to pee in the middle of the night. And for God's sake, please WASH YOUR HANDS AFTER YOU PEE. When you pee, you hopefully have to touch your penis (see above plea about aiming), and your penis is covered in sweat, bacteria, and urine spray. Said bacteria then covers your hands which then infect anything you touch. WASH YOUR FILTHY HANDS YOU DISGUSTING FRESHMEN BOYS.

If you obey these simple life rules, we can get along and have a nice, peaceful semester at Wills. Don't make this hard on yourself.

Love,
Ryan and Joe. Wills 108.