Passion

Last night I had a dream about Clark. This is weird, because I have only had dreams with Clark in them on a few occasions, and I can't even remember those dreams clearly. I'm beginning to think that Clark signifies my conscience or my "voice of reason" in my dreams, because basically the only thing I remember about the dream from last night/this morning is that he was asking me, in a manner not unlike the one in which Jess questions Rory, whether or not I really wanted to be leaving school. "Are you really sure?" he asked. In that tone of voice that suggests that of course I'm not really sure, because it's a terrible idea and he's going to say I told you so in five years.
Actually, I also remember thinking, "I'm so glad you contacted me," (and in the dream I remember it was over AIM, and the chat window was all familiar and it was kind of comforting) and wondering if I had been too hard on him when we stopped talking, and if part of my anger with him wasn't really anger at myself and general frustration at my current life situation. I don't think he deserved all the wrath I heaped upon him, although he certainly deserved part of it.

The weird thing about making lots of friendslocked entries is that, after a while, it gets to be nerve-wracking to make unlocked posts. It induces paranoia.

I went climbing tonight and there was great music and I had good new climbing pants and of course the company is always excellent, and I felt like, "hey, this is santa-cruz-y and I'm okay here. I should climb more often." But something niggled in the back of my brain, saying, "This is not what you're missing, this is not why you're unhappy; more time spent climbing is not going to make it all better. This is not your solution." And I thought, "Yes, you're right." But it's interesting how I can have good moments--I had a great weekend too, with Aaron and with some of his friends and a few great rounds of a card game called Munchkin--and be generally okay and still be absolutely miserable. I really am absolutely miserable. And it's really just getting worse, despite everything I'm doing to try to force myself to dig in and put down roots and adjust, damnit (I just got a cat, for crying out loud, and the small furry thing, while I adore her, is not making everything better--I mean, not that I expected her to, but this sort of indicates that it's not an easily fixable thing, you know?).

Anyway, point is--subconscious, or Clark: I am unhappy and I don't know how to fight it without leaving. Fighting it here is not working. I think the unhappiness is inherent in the graduate school at Yale part. It's the being young part. It's the... it's all that. I don't know.

I'm very young and very miserable and very confused. But at least I have new climbing pants.