"The day is quiet.

All things are as smooth as glass. I feel as though I am in Japan, from long ago. The wind barely blows and my footsteps are soft and deliberate. Each move is made with delicacy. Slow. I am seeing painted silk screens around me, while a koto or shamisen is played in the distance. The notes wander in groups and glide away as silence moves in--for a small while, several seconds.

The day seems so full. So much could be done, without rush or worry. So often I have been caught unaware and a task will be left undone. I have moved through the mental paperwork and find nothing lacking.

I hear an older man in his sixties. He is singing softly to himself as he works his field. The sky is open and stretches so far in each direction. Somewhere a single blossom falls, thousands upon thousands fluttering down like forgotten rain.

I am at peace.

I woke up with a mild to moderate hangover this morning. I foolishly thought last night that, oh yeah, I'd lay down for a little while after Hillary and I had stopped e-mailing back and forth. Don't worry, I'll write about sunday night soon. Yes, first before Detroit.

It was around 8:30am, and my mouth was as dry as a desert plain; that horrible sticky dryness. I took a glass of water hostage, offed it, went back to bed, and I could swear I did this 3 more times.

Finally sometime around 10:30 I woke up. I still felt like I was drunk. I managed to pull myself relatively together to answer some emails from my advisor and arrange some stuff."

{{And now continued today...}}

I decided to head to the lab, talk with Chris about classes, the research project, talk to our senior scientist Gabe, and generally regulate shit. I had lunch first over at the chinese cafe. It's so deliciously cheap and exquisitely good for lunch. The talk with my advisor went really well. I didn't have to pretend like I could think (unlike a few hours ago), and he seemed pleased to see me. So we talked, planned out some stuff. I know I'm doing decent whenever he ends our conversation with "good". I'll take positive reinforcement where I can get it. Talking with Gabe also went well. I arranged to get some more information about the monkey kids we'll be observing in the future. It's weird to think that my 2nd project is already happening!...and pretty damn cool that the initial stuff is mostly done by others.

The rest of yesterday went by with no cares. I needed to mail stuff, but that was another day. I called Brian or vice-versa. We talked some about vacations I think. I also noted Hillary and we chatted/made playful jibes at one another. It's been awhile since I've talked to someone nearly every day. Somehow we always have something to talk about, whether it's related to me, her, or just the people in our lives.

The only other highlight of yesterday was stripping naked, going into the shower, turning on the hot water, and sitting in pitch darkness for however long it was. I looked around the black walls. The usual faces, teeth, and insane eyes of demons flickered and fell in vast whorls of cloud. But then I willed myself to think of other things. I saw the outlines of female faces, of eyes. I tilted my head and focused on this or that person. Some vague representation came. I asked myself to look at the true aspect of Hill. At first barred teeth, then the outline of a face and eye.

I used to fear the dark when I was younger. Nowadays it's one of a few things that bring me to true solace. Photography, darkness, alcohol, love. Maybe good hot and sour soup.

Regarding Hill, I'm still chewing on when to give her the address for this place. Soon I suspect. Part of me doesn't think it's a good idea, but then she knows about it and I've made it a point to not lie to or deceive her. The lack of deception on both our parts is nice.

I trust her.

I don't say a lot of the sweeter things sometimes; I think that was a rule on page 19 for men. I suspect she'd take it as a sign of weakness, even if the lack of it in others bothers her. Funny, I suppose: she has trouble connecting to Sven, and I think we purposefully interject distance in our friendship sometimes. It's been so purposefully slow. But it's stayed relatively constant; maybe a snail's crawl toward closer, but I like it. I like how we enjoy hanging out or talking a lot, yet it's constantly honest.

Some part of our dynamic involves games of strength. Occasionally she purposefully challenges me with this or that comment. She means it to be coy with her smile, but I know better by her patterns and word choice. She says she doesn't mean to provoke people--though 'everyone' says she does--and I believe her. At the same time, she regularly tests me and my boundaries. She's a strong person and externalizes that strength. The idea of me doing that is foreign. I can honestly count on a sloth's hand the number of times I've ever felt compelled to do so.

Overt aggression is a curious beast. Apparently this is something regularly done by most men. The boasting, the comparing of cock length by symbolic gestures, the sheer social stupidity and brazenly empty talk. I have yet to meet a man or woman that deserved my breaking their arm. If I did, it would occur. I have no moral aversion to maiming or nearly killing another human being--IF the situation commanded such extreme need. Yet why play at such things? I suppose it may be to show that you are capable of such an act. Intimidation is the bread and butter of the American spirit, after all.

Of course, it is barbaric fucking nonsense. We are a goddamn failure as a culture. I say let's collectively evolve and get more complicated.

But anyway, if I'm to make any headway with 'strong' people, I have to be willing to be more stubborn, assholish, or aggressive when some dominance issue comes into play. Otherwise, it would seem that they are unable to recognize one of their own. I may have been a shy outcast as a child, but then I changed.

I suppose I never needed to be overtly aggressive with people because charm or dumb luck worked.

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