think small

today, while attempting to study and left with almost no other options of procrastination, i began to look at what my life has become. it was as if i had just looked up to notice that someone had google-mapped me at that very instance, and I was seeing what they were seeing as they zoomed out and away from here, getting a wider perspective as they moved further away:

highest magnification:
me, hair itching my face, highlighter fighting to capture facts one sentence at a time, computer finally sleeping for a bit

one bar zoomed out:
i'm restless, tired, burned out, unengaged, caffinated. my back hurts, with that sharp uncomfortable pain of strained posture. i'm unable to sit still, constantly moving and occasionally coming out of my narrow focus to look around me and realize i need to breath more slowly and deeply and stop scratching my skin.

two bars zoomed out:
heidi: squinting at the pieces of pink plastic brain
darrell: white ear plugs sticking out, staring at a powerpoint slide- how i've come to hate that ubiquitous dark blue powerpoint background
russ: silent, actually working.

three bars:
the "quite room", hidden behind our med school's cafeteria. it is so asthetically vacuous that the color of my highlighter on the pages of dr. holland's 5 year-old (and hence ridiculously outdated) genetics syllabus seems almost thrilling.
flourescent lights unabashedly exposing the dirty, chipped and smudged walls
coffee stained and torn pastel furniture scattered uselessly around the oversized room.
darrell's powerpoint, next slide: oh my god, i really don't want to know how much of my life revolves around powerpoint slides...

four bars:
it's dark outside. maybe 60 degrees. quite, peaceful.

five bars:
davis downtown, with colorful lights around the film festival theater. people laughing, relaxing, waing for the music to start at delta's outdoor garden. homes with people resting on couches, watching tv, reading books, getting ready for an early night in bed. really makes me wonder about how i've lost my option to even utter the words, "carpe diem".

six bars:
freeway of cars passing through davis, always going somewhere. it's dark and empty out here, and kind of lonely.

seven bars:
lights from a town among many, in a busy world where we occasionally stop and try to find our purpose. when i look from this distance, the nights on the couch in front of the tv don't look so exciting anymore, and i regain my excitement and apprehension about being at a point in my life where i get to build myself up, gobble up knowledge and tools whenever i am willing to receive them, and experience moments of my life (and the lives of others) that can ride the extremes of what our short existence has to offer.

eight bars:
satellite feature. what can one say about this one? it's sooo cool. have you tried looking up the house you grew up in? your old school? have you googled your work to see if you could see your car parked in front? go to it!