Old Notebooks

Today I arrived home from the film festival and I was all jazzed up. Everything I saw gave me some idea for a shot or some idea for a new movie. I wanted to get a few things off my computer though so I had no way to write anything. How does anyone write anything anymore? Then I noticed a large stack of notebooks sitting on top of my bookcase. Ahh, I thought, my old college notebooks. I often forget what I put in these and none of them had anything written on the fronts. However, several of them had the same little pattern I had on the back. I use to draw little squares on top of one another until I was done being bored. This was actually helpful because the more squares that were on the back the more interesting the stuff inside had become. More boredom equaled more creative time inside of them. I wrote a poem and my freshmen year after I had woken up in class after a break and people had been laughing at me for sleeping. The dream I was having was about walking down stairs, I somewhat remember this.

"The room is nearly empty and I
find myself taking some pleasure from that.

Soon after I leave the room and I find myself
entering a stairway
When I first arrived I thought I was descending,
but ever since then I am ascending back towards the top.
A - D - A - D - A - D
has Escher help build this fantasy.

Sometimes the steps are so hard they hurt at a point.
Then again sometimes they give way to me as if I would
reach the bottom by remaining still.

It is couris(a word I clearly couldn't spell and have no idea what it is) I can hear more people now
and the staircase has become more wild.
Sometimes when I go down I go left and when I go up I go right.
A - D - L - A -R -D - L

Now I hear above me
My name
And laughter
The Stairway hits my side and my sight is jolted
The room is full now and I'm back
at the top."

I wrote this and forgot about it, I wonder how it will feel to read this again years later. As unimportant as that poem was, and as stupid as I know it was. It has helped me remember a day I would have just forgotten. Going though more of these notebooks saying things such as "Why did I come back?" I wonder who I wrote that to. Perhaps a friend who is no longer a friend anymore, and that made me miss our friendship. The funny bits to read come in at the strangest time. Pages and pages of notes and then a drawing of a duck on a hat. Why I did that I don't know, maybe the teacher had something to say about duck's on hats. Other things struck me too. I turned to a page that said "I <3 U". I had used the page in a Valentine's day film. I again made it this year as a Christmas gift for her. I stared at the page for several minutes and thought it would be alright if I tried to cry. Months earlier I could have willed myself to do something like that. Nothing came out, I was annoyed at myself for trying. I just need to keep making sure I'm not just fooling myself. I didn't tear the page out. I want to find it again in a few years and it will take me back again, to help me remember past mistakes and bad poems.

That's all for now.