Chasing Sunsets

Song of the Ride (and one of my all-time favorites): The Album Leaf - Twentytwofourteen

Despite an absurd lack of sleep, the drive tonight has been very thought-provoking and inspiring. I found it to be a great remedy for a weekend of shenanigans and late-night antics. The sky tonight was perfect--a word I try to avoid using at all costs. The sunset cast the cloudy horizon ablaze in a hue that escapes both an accurate description and the camera lens alike. In that handful of minutes of divine intervention, I bore witness to one of the most gorgeous celestial skylines I'd ever seen. I felt my heart and brain work in sync to convey a proper emotion, but none were to be found. And while it had only just started, my time was limited. In only a few short minutes, the moment had passed to a more standard dusk. It was a shared secret between me and the heavenly body above. Alone for me to make note of while my sleepy companions dreamt of such a view. The fiery sky burned its image into my eyes as I found myself distracted from the highway before me. Like a handful of other memories, it truly will be a moment to relish, consider, then reconsider. The blossomed flower that was the burning clouds above faded into a deep yellow as the sun dropped below the horizon. The silhouettes of water towers and trees dotted the distance as a river of head and taillights organically weaved down the highways. I raced the sun across the country on our respective quests westward. Inevitably, I lost, yet in many ways, I was the winner.

Rock Star Living

I have spent the past week living life in the fast lane. Rock star mentality--drugs, sex and rock n roll. Ok not really. More like traveling across the country, drinking and not sleeping, seeing and doing what I want. It is amazing and I find myself for the first time experiencing addiction. I have addiction to the need to do things that I enjoy. What I do in these night hours is to live. Not the acts of a Trey who wants to help others selflessly. Not that I don't enjoy that. Sometimes I just want some "get my shit figured out" time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm about to brave the Baltimore streets. It looks as though I may get mugged. If so, bring it DC. Melting face.

Defining Moments

They rarely come when you expect them. Tonight at a party, I determined my future. Was it the adequate place for it? Most likely not. I just knew though, what I'd known all along. I hadn't scored as well as I needed. Not high enough to convince me to invest that sort of time and money, anyways. I've been teetering with the idea that it was all destined to happen this way. Part of a grand legacy I could pass down in writing or interview as an inspiration of not giving up when things don't "work out."

I suppose what it boils down to is a combination of two things: Not taking "no" for an answer and finding a way to success while not taking "no" for an answer. It is no longer the simple matter that I will just fight the system until I win, but rather to succeed while doing it. That is the essence of my aspired goal. I will find a way to write and do so well.

Short post only tonight,
TC

On The Road

Song of the Moment: Bankrupt on Selling

I'm patiently waiting my departure for the nation's capital. I've got good music, good company and all the best problems a 21-year old guy could have. There are very few things I could complain about in life right now. I've got a stack of good literature to read over the next few months, as well as a stack of good literature to write. I find myself drawing inspiration on those around me more and more. "Write what you know," and "Show, don't tell," is what Jeremiah Chamberlin instilled in my throughout my college writing classes. Original advice? Hardly, but nobody drilled it into my thick skull quite as well as JC.

Books on my list to read:
Women - Charles Bukowski
On The Road - Jack Kerouac
House of Leaves - Mark Z. Danielewski
To the Lighthouse - Virginia Woolf
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance - Robert M. Pirsig
Sway - Ori Brafman and Rom Brafman
Blink - Malcolm Gladwell

I hope to take much away from these readings, to enhance both my writing and social standards. The two things I have an undying passion for: writing and people.

Alas, I must finish packing my belongings for my travels to DC. Expect several posts throughout the weekend as interesting things or inspirational occurrences transpire. There should be several places throughout the weekend in which I can draw an enlightenment or important junction in my life. I have a good feeling about this.

TC

Ambient Morning

This morning was one of the strangest feelings I've experienced in some time. As I got ready for work, and wandered outside, all was still. There were no vehicles driving down the street, no leaves rustling on the ground, and most importantly, no people wandering the sidewalks. I was listening to Brian Eno and time seemed to suspend itself. It is in these moments that I begin to feel a little anxious, tensely wondering when somebody was going to come from around the corner to make the bus. Actually, I was wondering if the bus was going to come at all.

It is a frightening and empowering feeling with the brief contemplation that I may have been the last human being on the planet. I knew that in all likelihood, it was just me being paranoid, yet I couldn't shake the gut feeling that something was off about the day. What would I do should I find myself that last human being? It would only be a matter of days before electrical grids shut down. Of course, one always presumes they would go drive fast cars and swim in the pools of celebrity mansions, stealing luxury yachts and the such, but I was standing there in the middle of Hoover Street thinking more practically. What would I do for food, how long would the electricity grid stay online. How long would the Internet stay online? I began theorizing about how I would need to teach myself how to operate complex equipments to ensure survival. I must be a little bit insane.

Luckily, the bus made the eventual turn onto my street and arrived without a hitch. The driver was there, though the rest of the bus was empty until its second stop. I felt reassured to see other people get on the bus. My senses seemed more in tune, sharpened. Everybody who walked by me seemed to smell fantastic. I noticed the fine details of their preparing themselves for social environments and wondered, if I were the last human being, would I find it necessary to stay well kept. Shaving my facial hair, etc. They all seem like social normed, but are so ingrained into my self that I believe I'd find a way to stay presentable. If for no one else, than for my personal sanity and well-being. Dress sharp, play sharp.

I'm a Sucker

Maybe I'm superficial. I really do enjoy that which is beautiful. Mostly in the form of music, portraits, moments and words. Especially words. To any of you lady readers out there, it doesn't take more than a few well crafted, beautiful sentences to really get me up and going. Like I said, maybe I'm superficial. There is all of too much "ummm" and "like" in this world to not respect a person who can speak well. I can also really appreciate somebody who chooses their words carefully. The kind of person who will opt not to use two words when one will suffice. I'm not sure if that is because it leaves more time for me to run my mouth (which I've been known to do) or if it is simply because it is attractive for one to be so decisive.

On an unrelated note, the wind outside is haunting me while I write. It is moving fast enough to kind of project a screeching gale outside my window. I half expect a scene from a horror movie to ensue, as I sit here in my dim apartment, finishing these posts, some reading and wine. It is slightly disturbing though, a sort of unnatural sound that makes me a tense.

On yet another unrelated note, I think I shall spend the rest of my evening reading. At some point, the writing will only carry one so far. It becomes important to take in new stylistic approaches and unique phrases to advance and broaden one's writing. It is the same thing is training in that the voice, technique, etc of those I read should, theoretically, improve the style of my writing by allowing me to take bits and pieces of what works and compile it into my own literary voice. It is a technique that has carried me far in other aspects of my life, so we'll see if writing is yet another thing I may master over the next several years.

Cheers,
TC

Our Story

Καλισπερα.
Good Evening.

Song of the Moment: Mae - Giving It Away

I have found, much to my dismay and best efforts, that I'm alone in my apartment tonight. At first, I had my doubts about it. There were so many things I could do to waste time; but, it was just that--wasting time. I opted against the Xbox and didn't want to go back to sleep as I'd been resting the last three hours. That should put me on track for a bedtime of approximately 4am...

So what did I come up with? Well, tonight it is just me, a vintage bottle of Shiraz (Thank you!) and the blog. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, my spare time goes out to you...and you...and you. With that, I'll conclude this brief, fairly uncreative post with something more on the writing side, and build off it in my subsequent posts as the Shiraz trickles into my brain and blows open the whole creative process.

Our Story
An Original Song by Trey Campbell

I close my eyes and see the starry skies
From far Up North and several worlds ago
So tell me how we're star-crossed lovers
When skies are faded by the city glow.

Take my coat because its cold out, baby
As we speak words that can't express our thoughts
So I'll take your hand and try to show you
Try my best and then you can call the shots.

[Bridge]
Honey, our story is a page-turner
So leave me dog-eared and never look back
Because I write us on and on and on
--
[Chorus]
The winds whistle a long-forgotten song
About these feelings that had faded fast
Well now they're back and it's a damn tornado
Brace yourself 'cause these changes will not pass

And when you're gone, though you're never really gone
I'll stumble out into the streets and call you
Despite the distance, I can touch you right here
Just to let you know that I can feel it too
--
I say let us make the best memories
And nights that we can try our best to forget
With the assistance of finished bottles
Vivid moments that I won't surrender yet

[Chorus]

I write this song so that you'll know it, baby
This song explains everything I could not say
Immortalized in verse for you to listen
Just pack your bags and tell me we can get away.

[Bridge]
[Chorus x2]

Hey girl, maybe I do like the city glow
Let's make our own stars, wish on the afterglow.

Upper Limits

I was so tired that I felt as if I were dreaming before my eyes finished closing. It was a melodic rest, albeit quick. If only time functioned as such in moments of anticipation. Today my mind feels foggy and I know that sleep will come quickly wherever I allow it. I know I'm playing a dangerous game, as my immune system gets more feeble with each restless night. In some ways, I feel like it is a test of my resilience. To see how much rebel I have in me and to know my own limitations. Mostly though, it's just stupidity. I waste a lot of time that I'll never have again. I value the importance of sleep, nearly now as much as I value being awake, the silent guardian who rests only after the world around him harmonizes in their respective dreamworlds.

Honestly though, I've treated my body poorly. Not showing it the respect it deserves, I filter it with poison, neglect my workout regime and deprive it of it's natural recharging processes. I can always attribute it to youth, but for how much longer? I make excuses that things will adjust when my life settles down, but will it ever really settle down? Will I allow it to ever really settle down? Live fast, die young. Love fast, love long? At least my mind remains sharp, despite the abuse. Until next time, friends.

Irony

Though I cannot discover an adequate reason why, I feel much more comfortable sleeping in places that are not my own bed. Right now, I find myself on the couch and perfectly comfortable to sleep. Yet, as soon as I get in my bed, I toss and turn and roll around. I have no reasonable explanation and I find it very interesting.

Only five more days until my LSAT scores arrive. It is odd how much importance we place on test results, numbers that dictate the "intelligence" of an individual. There are plenty of other ways one could be deemed smart. How they interact socially, for example. I know many people who could convince the devil to sell his soul, yet they don't have the capability to sit down and take tests. This bothers me very much. We allow this standardized set of numbers and scaling dictate who is good enough for a particular school, etc.

Perhaps it is just coincidence or my naivety, but it seems as though very few people who become superstars or game-changers fared well under the conventional norms of academia. A recurring pattern? Does success only typically become a viable option to those who work outside the box?Surely there is some sort of connection. I think in some way, it is a necessary precaution that the academic system and the societal regulations that come with it do their best not to promote stardom. That is, it comes across as a sort of brainwashing where they instill ideas in each student about their aptitude and what they'd be good at someday. Are they even qualified to say what another individual would be good at? Even today, there is so much we don't know about one another. It kind of makes me a little bit sad. Que sera, sera.

Ps I just woke up on my couch after dozing off the last half hour. This is exactly what I was talking about before!

TC

A Different World

Around the hour of 4 last night, I found myself wandering the diag (don't worry about it). It was a beautiful night with a warm breeze and I found myself comfortably soaking up the solitude. In a post-rave afterglow, things couldn't have been much better. I had time to think, and thinking I did. Surrounding me, leaves fell and swirled, crackling along the sidewalk and occasionally startling me that somebody was sneaking up on me. Of course, there was nobody there, just nature playing her tricks on me. My adrenaline was still spiked from the show earlier and I was still humming the tunes to myself. Those damn tunes. Always stuck in my head, day in and day out. It drives me through long nights on the road, or assists my drooping eyes when I have a daunting night of homework.

It was a phenomenal night. Some of my favorite company, my favorite sort of scene, and good memories. I felt great throughout the night, continuing my best day ever. Positivity follows positivity. I find myself convinced that good things happen to the optimistic and vice versa to the Debbie Downers of the world. It makes it difficult for those who don't see the glass half full, but I, fortunately, do not fall in that group. I have yet to think of a valid or rational reason why my theory seems to hold true, as there is no scientific way to prove such subjective things. I guess it all falls in the eye of the beholder. Regardless, the power of the music and the company of some amazing and beautiful people really sealed the night in my memory banks. Thank you.

TC