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So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.


The Profile


Zanzibar
Age. 39
Gender. Female
Ethnicity. that of my father and his father before him
Location Altadena, CA
School. Other
» More info.
The World









The Link To Zanzibar's Past
This is my page in the beloved art community that my sister got me into:

Samarinda

Extra points for people who know what Samarinda is.
The Phases of the Moon Module
CURRENT MOON
Croc Hunter/Combat Wombat
My hero(s)
Only My Favorite Baseball Player EVER


Aw, Larry Walker, how I loved thee.
The Schedule
M: Science and Exploration
T: Cook a nice dinner
W: PARKOUR!
Th: Parties, movies, dinners
F: Picnics, the Louvre
S: Read books, go for walks, PARKOUR
Su: Philosophy, Religion
The Reading List
This list starts Summer 2006
A Crocodile on the Sandbank
Looking Backwards
Wild Swans
Exodus
1984
Tales of the Alhambra (in progress)
Dark Lord of Derkholm
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
The Lost Years of Merlin
Harry Potter a l'ecole des sorciers (in progress)
Atlas Shrugged (in progress)
Uglies
Pretties
Specials
A Long Way Gone (story of a boy soldier in Sierra Leone- met the author! w00t!)
The Eye of the World: Book One of the Wheel of Time
From Magma to Tephra (in progress)
Lady Chatterley's Lover
Harry Potter 7
The No. 1 Lady's Detective Agency
Introduction to Planetary Volcanism
A Child Called "It"
Pompeii
Is Multi-Culturalism Bad for Women?
Americans in Southeast Asia: Roots of Commitment (in progress)
What's So Great About Christianity?
Aeolian Geomorphology
Aeolian Dust and Dust Deposits
The City of Ember
The People of Sparks
Cube Route
When I was in Cuba, I was a German Shepard
Bound
The Golden Compass
Clan of the Cave Bear
The 9/11 Commission Report (2nd time through, graphic novel format this time, ip)
The Incredible Shrinking Man
Twilight
Eclipse
New Moon
Breaking Dawn
Armageddon's Children
The Elves of Cintra
The Gypsy Morph
Animorphs #23: The Pretender
Animorphs #25: The Extreme
Animorphs #26: The Attack
Crucial Conversations
A Journey to the Center of the Earth
A Great and Terrible Beauty
The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian
Dandelion Wine
To Sir, With Love
London Calling
Watership Down
The Invisible
Alice in Wonderland
Through the Looking Glass
20,000 Leagues Under the Sea
The Host
The Hunger Games
Catching Fire
Shadows and Strongholds
The Jungle Book
Beatrice and Virgil
Infidel
Neuromancer
The Help
Flip
Zion Andrews
The Unit
Princess
Quantum Brain
The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks
No One Ever Told Us We Were Defeated
Delirium
Memento Nora
Robopocalypse
The Name of the Wind
The Terror
Sister
Tao Te Ching
What Paul Meant
Lao Tzu and Taoism
Libyan Sands
Sand and Sandstones
Lost Christianites: The Battles for Scripture and the Faiths We Never Knew
The Science of God
Calculating God
Great Contemporaries, by Winston Churchill
City of Bones
Around the World in 80 Days, by Jules Verne
Divergent
Stranger in a Strange Land
The Old Man and the Sea
Flowers for Algernon
Au Bonheur des Ogres
The Martian
The Road to Serfdom
De La Terre � la Lune (ip)
In the Light of What We Know
Devil in the White City
2312
The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August
Red Mars
How to Be a Good Wife
A Mote in God's Eye
A Gentleman in Russia
The Fatal Conceit: The Errors of Socialism
Seneca: Letters from a Stoic
The Juanes Module


Juanes just needed his own mod. Who can disagree.
The Ritual Deaths of Third Years
Friday. 11.19.10 9:28 pm
My dream from last night:

It was the end of their third years, and several third years had decided to kill themselves. It happened a lot at the end of the third year, people just decided not to go on. The rest of us regarded the practice with a kind of resignation.

This year it was a little different for me, however, because my roommate was among them. She was unhappy in graduate school, she had had a series of disappointments, she was always worried that somehow she wasn't cutting it.

I understood her decision [in the dream]-- that's just how it went, some third years just killed themselves, you couldn't wish away reality.

The department always held a little ceremony for it, I guess to show their regret that the third years had decided to leave and to mark the occasion of their passing. This year I was supposed to help by taking tiny throwing knives and throwing them so that they would stick into the necks of the third years who had chosen to die. The throwing knife usually severed the jugular, but if it was done just right none of the blood would come out of the skin. The tip of the knife had a little bit of poison, to ease the process.

This year there were three third years that had chosen to die. I knew all three of them, and one of the others was also a friend of mine. I was sad that he had chosen this path, but I understood.

In the case of my roommate, there was a niggling feeling in the back of my brain that made something feel awry. I had never before considered that it didn't have to be this way, that I should be standing up and screaming and doing everything to prevent this from happening. But the feeling was very small.

Throwing the knives came naturally to me, and at the appointed time in the ceremony I flicked my hand and each knife pricked the necks of the waiting students, not drawing a single drop of blood. The student I didn't know very well died easily. Jeff, my other friend, lingered on for a few moments, his breath becoming strained and ragged, before finally expiring and lying in silence.

My roommate didn't die. She stayed on, weak, poisoned, lying there on her side with the little knife sticking out of her neck like an arrowhead. I walked over to her. Sadness was coming over me like a dark cloud as I contemplated my life without her. Minutes from now she would be gone, gone forever, and there would be no way to get her back. She lived on, but most of the meagre crowd that had assembled for the ceremony was filtering out, headed for the modest buffet.

She did not move, except for the faint up and down of her breathing. I leaned over her.

"Can we... can we not do this?" I said, my voice feeling deep and sad like the notes of a cello.

"Can we just... fix you now? Can I just carry you downstairs and we can fix you?"

I didn't want to do anything unless she wanted me to, because I didn't want her to spend her last moments angry with me. If this was what she wanted, I wasn't going to stop her.

But she nodded imperceptibly. Feeling heavy already, I picked her up and carried her to the first floor of the building into one of the teaching labs. One of our professors was there.

"Ah," he said, "You're saving her. Finally someone in this department has come to their senses." He left, bidding us luck and saying that he had to teach a class.

I was buoyed by his words... maybe someone else in the department felt this feeling that I was just starting to feel, that this entire tradition was CRAZY and that somebody had to do something and that we couldn't just stand there while all the third years DIED.

I layed her down gently on the black lab counter next to the sink. She was extremely pale and still. I carefully removed the arrowhead knife with a pair of large lab forceps.

I knew she would recover.


I woke up.

As I lay in bed, trying to remember where I was and what was going on, I heard my roommate moving around in the kitchen making breakfast.

The most beautiful sound in the world!!
6 Comments.


His older brother could run the company, and my fianc� would just sell his shares in the company or something to fund the business.

Also, your dream has a really clear plot and storyline. :S It seems more like a short film than a dream.
» randomjunk on 2010-11-19 10:33:16

Wow, that sounds like a tough dream.
» jinyu on 2010-11-20 10:28:38

It's always great to know someone who died is actually still alive
sucks when it's the other way around though.
» middaymoon on 2010-11-20 01:14:31

Yeah that's the way it goes
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» Steve (115.248.234.251) on 2011-07-10 07:38:23

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