I was just outside by the fountain, where there was a damn large anti-war ralley happening. How can you disagree with that stance? This war is starting one of the largest anti-war movements since Vietnam, and while it IS a college campus, of course, it also directs the message to the generation where it matters most. The youth of today seems to be on one side or the other as far as education, either blissfully unaware or not. I will say this: as a fortunate white male who has financial security, sometimes the idea of forgetting the war seems to be easier than focusing on it. But it's my obligation to take advantage of what I've been lucky enough to get. I like to think that I'm content being around people I like instead of the brand names that I'm wearing, but it's not quite that level of elitism: I know where my next meal is coming from, though. I may have had 1 dollar in my bank account the last week of Feb, but that doesn't make me poor.

What I would hate to have happen to me, ever, is to curl up in this shell of upper-class and just let the world go around me like shifting oceans. To graduate and live in a cubicle and get married and never really break out of whatever somewhat liniar lifestyle my social class is directing me to. The last entry had to do with the difficulty of following your heart in the face of somewhat non-optimistic circumstances. This is saying the same thing, I suppose: taking risks, and have you ever done that? After succeeding, it's like there's a whole new part added on to you. It's certainly not easy. But I know from experience, over and over and over again, that it's worth it. The carbon copy evidence from that is scattered around all parts of my life, from relationships to some of the friends I have made via chance. So I have to stay in that state of mind.

I ran into my ex with her little brother (who is rad rad rad) and spoke for a bit. Surrounded by activists and the blare of people speaking on the microphone against the war, we spoke and the differences between us were as evident as they were when we broke up. Time never seems to feel as progressive as when I have conversations in moments like that. Standing on a pile of snow while anti-war speeches flared around me, with some people surrounding me who played a very different part of my life years ago, you can practically feel the years march on. Years ago we were in a bed together and the twin towers were still standing. I'm not missing it, but instead quite aware of what can change in a few years, and the contrast between personal and global change never more illustrated than talking with an ex-girlfriend at an anti-war ralley.

The Glassjaw concert, by the way, was rockin'. I was quite excited to see Dredg, which is a prog-rock band with a guy who has one of the most angelic voices I've ever heard. They sounded good, listening to their set standing outside the venue in the ticket line. They got off stage as soon as I got in. Boo. Hot Water Music was next, and while they had a certain scruffy charm to them in that sort of punk/pop way, the real headliner was up next. Glassjaw came on without any smoke and mirrors, just the Long Island band and their ball-of-energy-frontman. I really appriciate bands like that, who use minimal lighting and are content to just rock rock rock (like Trail of Dead's live show). Glassjaw were obviously having fun on stage, although the singer wasn't quite hitting the screaming notes as much because of the ol' altitude. Good crowd, very friendly. Sparta was next, but I was sort of tired and juanted home.

I like driving through the city at night. Colfax is not one of the most beautiful streets in Denver, of course, but there's so many neon lights, tiny little bars, and the collision of modern downtown expansion against smaller shops that have been there for years. With the volume of the Ryan Adams CD very low, just the scrolling of the streetlights through the window and that delightful post-concert glow going on, it's not hard to feel content. And while concerts are always fun with people, there's something to be said for them lone experiences, too. Like sleeping alone every night! YAY!

...

Now I only have a little while to type, since I suddenly slit my wrists. God, the janitors are going to be pissed.

Shannon, I don't like the Panda-Cam because you don't actually GET a panda. A Polar-Bear Cam or a Dog-Cam is basically flaunting what you cannot get. heh, like a Girlfriend-Cam!

Oops, there goes the other wrist. Incidentally, I am on a "24"-jihad so that I can catch up with my roommates for Thursay, when we watch the end oof the first season. You know, people, it's such a worthy purchase. "24" is literally twenty-four hours long, and it's just rad. Kiefer Sutherland won an Emmy for his role. It takes patience but the series is incredibly engaging and well-done. I would severely suggest it. I would also suggest calling any emergency services on campus to help me, since I've lost roughly 4 pints of blood from my slit wrists. I'll admit, I'm getting some looks from some fellow students, but I should be OK. By "OK", I guess I mean "finally released from this mortal coil".

...this diary makes me seem so depressed. heh.

I ran into Chris in the computer lab and informed him that he was too sexy to leave. He said he loved me. We exchanged pleasantries in "inside voices", which means "obnoxious whispering", much to the chortling of the rest of the people in the lab. I ALSO saw him yesterday when he came to the place where I was getting my hair cut. Luck be a Christopher tonight.

Oh yeah, the hair. I'll post a picture. If I'm not dead.

Statistics of me being dead: 67% and counting.

Statistics of me haunting you all in not-quite-scary ways: 100%

brainnssss,

Jared