Friday, May 07, 2004

Here I am in Portland this last weekend:

And here I am at the same event, actually dancing:

I love tango. Someday I'm going to be super-awesome at tango.

If you don't know what I mean when I say "tango", check out the following videos:
Pretty awesome, eh? That's how I'm going to dance, and sooner than you think.

Tuesday, May 04, 2004

Lately I've been doing funny things like cleaning and practicing my guitar. If you know me well, you know these are things I almost always mean to do but rarely ever actually get around to doing.

Not having internet anymore has a large part to do with it, I think.

I've traditionally not been good at being alone. I get down sometimes. Lonely. I'm scared of confronting myself, letting my thoughts run where they will. When I had internet, I think I used it as an escape whenever I found myself with down time. Rather than be alone with myself, I'd browse the web or play a game.

Cleaning, practicing music -- these things require the body, but they allow the mind to wander. I am coming to believe that part of the reason I put them off so often is that I could not deal with letting my mind freely wander in that way. I couldn't deal with my own emotion so I preferred activities that kept my mind occupied.

Now I am coming to love such activities. When I am at home I am drawn to them. I've grown a lot over the last year, I think, and deal better with myself now that I am finally giving myself a chance to try it out again. I'm happier and my thoughts are healthier. I actually prefer being alone sometimes.

You should see my apartment sometime, if you haven't lately. It's still a work in progress, but is becoming quite cozy.

Do you remember Jacob Wetterling? He was abducted from a small Minnesota town on October 22, 1989 at gunpoint, while riding his bike outside with his brother and a friend. He was 11 years old. He was only one month and 9 days older than me.

His abduction... it hit me somewhere deep inside, moreso than almost any other worldwide event that I can recall during my childhood. He was so close to me -- age, origins, geographical location, family characteristics. He could have been me. I could have been him.

Even now, 15 years later, I still think of him sometimes. What happened to him? Is he still alive? How could he never have been found?

I was compelled just now to look him up on the web. Hoped that someone had learned something in the last decade and a half, that his family had been granted some sort of closure. Not so. No one knows.

His family has since established JWF, a foundation intended to protect children from sexual exploitation and abduction, and they have become strong activists working for that cause. On the webpage for the foundation, there is a letter from his mother to the man who abducted him. I cried, reading it. She is a woman of strength and speaks from her heart.

I still don't understand how such horrible things can happen. I don't understand how people can recover from it. When the abduction occurred, I looked at it from the perspective of an 11 year old, from the perspective of a possible abductee or the friend of such. Now I am older. I look at it from the perspective of a parent, a neighbor. I don't know how I would handle it, were I the one left behind, how I would ever find peace within myself. I am amazed that people can be so resilient, can heal.

If Jacob is still out there, I hope that he is found someday. I hope that he has been alive and well and has made it through all these years. If he hasn't, I hope that knowledge finally comes to light about what did happen to him. I wish for his family to find some sort of closure, to finally know. Not knowing -- that is the worst part of it all.
So, as you've surely noticed if you ever were a regular here, I'm not posting so much these days. That whole no-more-internet-at-home thing gets in the way a bit.

I am still writing, more than ever. But most of it sits in journals now. Or on tape; I've also been playing around with vocalizing my thoughts.

I do plan to publish bits of these writings every now and again, but it will probably come in spurts. Like this one.