Tag Archives: dreams

The Last Day

24 Mar

Well, lovely readers, this is my last day in the US before I head out to the Galapagos. This time tomorrow, I’ll be on a plane to Quito. Or to Texas, where I think we might have a layover… In any case, I won’t be in California, and I won’t be in Missouri, and I won’t be in Florida (those other two places in the US I tend to frequent). I’ll be going some place entirely new.

Honestly, right now, I don’t have any profound words of wisdom about this last day before embarking on the most exciting stint of travel in my life to date. I don’t think it’s quite sunk in yet… I’ve just been sitting here, at the table, in a vague state of shock and awe which might in part be attributable to the Spotify station I’m listening to (which is basically the “here, let me play soft mellow Indie-ish music that will lull you into peace and then tear your emotions out through your soul” station).

Things haven’t really felt “settled” for a while now, anyway, so it’s kind of hard for me to be jolted out of normalcy right now. The past two weeks have been so much in flux, so strange on their own… I’m in school, I’m packing, I’m studying and taking finals and writing a thesis, I’m driving to Santa Monica and back every other day to move my stuff or hang out with Kim, I’m almost finished with school forever, I turn in my thesis, my boyfriend leaves for his visit to Miami, Kim leaves for San Francisco, it’s just me, shuttling back and forth between Caltech and the apartment in Santa Monica in some kind of waif existence, I hang out with new people, I’m at the beach for the first time in months, there are new streets everywhere, Kim’s back from San Francisco but now I’m living in the apartment too but I’m also leaving in two days and packing again for a different trip…

Everything has been strange for what feels like such a long time now. A weird mix of me moving on but also retaining connections from my life “before” and not quite having a new platform to step onto and a weird stasis time of exploring some islands on the other side of the equator to prepare for… There’s been so much difference lately. And those things I’ve clung to, trying to maintain some sense of solidity, of continuity in my life – they’ve mostly been those odd, transient connections made to people I know and people I don’t know over the internet. Chatting with people on facebook, reading the tweets headed by familiar names that I started following back when I still had a room in the dorms at Caltech, visiting the same sites like Tickld and the OhJoySexToy webcomic because it’s a voice, a community that’s cropped up like mist or smoke in my memory… I’ve been carrying the pillow from my boyfriend’s couch that he let me take eons ago around from room to room, clutching it between my chest and my knees while I clasp the first stuffed animal thing he ever gave me back when we first started dating in my hands, a physical proxy for his existence, a reminder that he is still connected to me, that this thing called “us” is still alive in the universe…

I’ve been lonely. There’s been a lot of strangeness – which in some ways I crave – but I haven’t had anyone, really, to share it with. I require another mind, another body there with me to turn the mere slipping by of seconds into experience. I think that’s why this trip to the Galapagos feels like a step back towards “realness” to me. I’m going with classmates I’ve interacted with all term, professors who have been to the Galapagos before and have a level of familiarity with the place they’ll bring. We’re not just being cast off on the sea to who knows where.There’s a structure – an itinerary – a tangibleness to this exploration, something to bring it out of the realm of ephemerality and wayfaring into the place of wanderlust, something I can hold onto more. There’s a someplace we’re going to. A something we’re going to do. It’s adventure. A real kind of magic. Not just… hand waving.

Well then. Maybe some of the words were profound. They were true, a lot of them, at least. So readers, if you don’t hear from me for a while, don’t fret – I’m just galavanting about with marine iguanas! Or sitting on a plane being bored. Either way, I’m still here. I’m still real. I haven’t gone away. I’m just going to be in a different realness for a while. I guess I’m leaving this blog behind, for you all, as the anchor to me, the thing of attachment or proxy or reminder or whatever that I’ve been searching for, for everybody else, for a while.

I’ll see you around the third of April, lovely readers.

Bon voyage.


Insomniac Poetry

16 Jan

day night idea brain

Happy Thursday, my lovely readers. So, I’ve been scribbling about in the Twittersphere a fair amount recently – the 140 character limit on writing a meaningful blurb/poem is a provocative challenge, and it’s nice to be able to throw shorter thoughts like haikus or couplets or quotes out to the world of internet readers without having to scrounge up something as official as a blog post to do it.

Anyhoo. As many of you might know, the sleeping and I, we don’t exactly have the smoothest of relationships. “Oh, what’s that? You’re done with work and writing for the day and want to get an adequate amount of shut-eye? Then how about I fill your brain with ALL THESE THINGS YOU MUST CYCLICALLY THINK ABOUT IT!!!” *cue maniacal laughter*

Yup. My circadian rhythms and I really need to have a peace summit or something one of these days.

But, seeing as right as I’m trying to fall asleep is apparently one of times that I mind-spew poetry and the beginnings of other writings, I’ve decided that rather than futilely wait until morning to write down the 1% that I’ll have remembered from what I thought of just before slipping off into dreamland, sure, I’ll just postpone my going to bed for another five minutes or so (*cough cough two hours cough cough*) and jot down those haikus my brain is generating like there’s no tomorrow through a couple to half a dozen tweets or so.

Yeah, pretty sure most of my Twitter activity logs between 11 pm and 3 am. Woooo sleep disorders.

But, one writer’s sleep issues is another reader’s free poetry! So, in case you haven’t stumbled upon it already and also happen to be awake and trawling the virtual world for verse at two in the morning (or, you know, wanna check for updates that will still exist in their digital entry in my Tweet feed at a more reasonable hour…), just wanted to give y’all a heads up that you can find the poetry (mostly haikus) that I write late at night under the hashtag #insomniacpoetry. Oh yeah, my whatever-the-fuck-you-call-a-twitter-“at”-username (handle? I think that’s the term the UI folks picked…) is @MicealaShocklee.

Just because, here are a couple of insomniac poems I’ve written over the weeks past:

Haikus for Quiet Sleep

Silence is the best

kind of poetry for an

insomniac’s night.


Darkness is the best

kind of poetry for an

insomniac’s mind.


Haiku for Words That Won’t Let Me Sleep

A cacophony

of overlapping phrases

circles in my brain.


unnamed poem

I can’t sleep and my heart’s a bit bruised,

so I’ll write poetry.


Sometimes in life, we make such substitutions.


Lovely readers, here’s to all our waking dreams.