*twitch* FAMILY BONDING TIME *twitch*: Part III

Okay. Let's have...three things to talk about, shall we? I've got limited time, so I'll only focus on the important things.

1) MICHAEL JACKSON

Okay, he's dead? That's so so so so so weird. I mean, this guy was an integral part of my life. Which sounds weird, but I've been listening to his music and hearing about his "exploits" since I was little. My mom loves him, and even she doesn't deny that he was one cracked pot, but still...I can't wrap my mind around the idea. Poor guy...universally worshiped, universally mocked, and now universally deceased. RIP, Jackson Man.

2) THE INNER WORKINGS OF MY MIND

I don't know, I've been feeling...better. It's hard to explain. I mean, yeah, I still get panic attacks and anxiety attacks and insomnia and paranoia and all the fun stuff, but generally, I just feel happier. I have an interesting summer coming up, my family has been together for almost a week WITH NO FIGHTING (this is really big, for us) and I'm making resolutions about things that I might actually be able to stick to. Things might be getting better. and even if they don't, I feel good. Which is nice. For a change.

3) NIGHTTIME WANDERINGS

I went out again to the Landing last night, at about 12:30 a.m. AND IT WAS CLEAR. For the first time in this horrible weather (which many are claiming is the worst Martha's Vineyard has seen in almost a century, at least for June), there wasn't a blanket of clouds over the sky. And it was glorious.

Because there are almost no sources of light around Chilmark Pond in the middle of the night--except for the dull glow of West Tis. and Vineyard Haven in the distance, the sky was crystal clear. Stars, millions of them, so thick in some places that the sky itself was glowing. The Milky Way was completely visible, stretching over my head like a pale, patchy bridge going to some strange place I couldn't see. There was a planet that was so bright my eyes kept coming back to it, and constellations and clusters and patterns that kept me looking back and forth until my neck jammed up. I don't have the words to talk about how beautiful and chilling it was...and at the same time, strangely calming. Maybe because it was so enormous, I lost myself in it. You can't focus on anything small when you're sitting beneath something so big.

And not only was I sitting under it on my little platform, I was sitting over it. The wind was totally gone, so the lake was as still as it ever was. The stars were reflected in it so clearly, I actually felt as though I was over a huge abyss, with stars shining at the bottom and overhead as well. The slight movements in the water made the stars glitter even brighter than they did in the sky, and the brightest planet that hung low over the hills stared down at its twin that danced beneath. The planes that flew overhead seemed so lonely, too far away to see me and too close to earth to touch the stars they passed.

And there was shooting stars. Small ones. I wished on all of them (yes, laugh all you want); one for my father, one or my mother, one for my sister, one for my friends and the people I love, one for people I don't know, and one for Wombat, who I had with me. It was incredible how quiet it was. The only sound was the surf humming over the dune, and the occasional "thlup!" as a fish or a beaver/otter/Loch Ness Monster wiggled in the water. No birds. No people. Nothing.

And I didn't think. I wasn't alone with my thoughts, I had no thoughts. It's so rare, to be completely and totally empty inside your own head. All the quiet and peace around you goes inside, and you don't think. You don't understand. You lie there looking up at a mass of stars and absolutely nothing goes through your head, because what can compete? That stillness is so wonderful...it's the most liberating feeling in the world. I wish I could explain better.

Okay, so that's pretty much all. We went to Menemsha Beach today, where I used to go crabbing in my little angelfish-bathing suit. Unfortunately, it seems the abudnace of crabs from my youth has been sadly killed off, and now there are hardly any there. That was depressing, to say the least. I also sat among the giant rocks at the end of the jetty, chatted with fishermen, and turned off my brain for a while. Seriously, if I don't stop relaxing, I'm going to melt. Gah.

More later. Miss you all!