Today, I...

• Dreamed of brilliant blue and open skies, thanks to a conversation with a certain someone awesome yesterday,

• Came to school with two (2!) friendship bracelets and a Rolling Stones shirt,

• Failed an English test with pride by writing absolutely nothing on the paper,

• Passed my History class with a 9 on an essay and the highest score in the class on the written portion,

• Had the students applaud after every comment I gave as Neitzsche in the World Congress and was given a special opportunity by the teacher to make a final speech (oh, perhaps not so bad at public speaking after all?),

• Came home early, ate at Arby's (tis hard to decide which mixture of horsey, HM, and Arby's will taste best on roast beef),

• Finished my first friendship bracelet, which isn't a turtle (yes!!! excited! What will she think of it?)
  

• Feel invincible!

Perhaps I'm more of a brown on that bar graph down there?
Oh, a pang of guilt... arrogance?

Not fair.

If all your goodness and talents could be counted with numbers, you ought to graph them. I wish they would all add up to the same height, like a row of orange singular bars.
But look, they're all so uneven... Blue is so much better than purple and green and brown...
Perhaps Hitler is the little orange bar in the corner of the box.
Which one would I be?

On weekends

You feel irritable, dirty, uncomfortable when you can't wash your hair by 4:30 in the afternoon,
But you know it's better if you wait until Sunday morning.

Read this.

A slice-of-life about Jesus and Buddha sharing an apartment in modern Japan. Read it here.

Couldn't sleep last night...

A young girl is left home alone with only her dog to protect her. When night approaches, she locks all the doors and tries to lock all the windows, but one in the basement won't close.
She decides to leave it open, but locks the basement door and goes to bed. Her dog takes its customary place under her bed.
In the deep of night she awakens to a dripping sound coming from the bathroom. The girl is too scared to go check so she reaches her hand under the bed. She feels a reassuring lick from her dog and falls back to sleep. She reawakens to the dripping sound, reaches her hand down to the dog where she feels the reassuring lick and falls back to sleep. Once more, she awakens to the dripping sound. She reaches her hand down and feels the lick of her dog.
Now curious about the dripping sound, she gets up and slowly walks towards the bathroom, the dripping sound getting louder as she approaches. She reaches the bathroom and turns on the light. She is greeted by a horrific sight; hanging from the shower nozzle is her dog with its throat slit open and its blood dripping into the bathtub.
Something on the bathroom mirror catches her eye; she turns around. Written on the bathroom mirror in her dog's blood are the words "HUMANS CAN LICK TOO".

Alright, so I read a few urban legends before bed, but as long as I don't think too much about them, I'll be fine, right?

"HUMANS CAN LICK TOO."

Shit...I can't think like that. Reverse psychology. The polar bear experiment.

"HUMANS CAN LICK TOO."

God, I'm praying now, see? God, help me! God, show me you exist....
No answer. Dead or asleep?

"HUMANS CAN LICK TOO."
Damn,damn,damn.....

A distraction... Happy thoughts...
Two years have passed, and I'm on the bridge. It's winter, but the water hasn't frozen yet, I think. She's there, and I'm still a little upset.
"Do you think I need to change, perhaps? I don't think I'm measuring up... just tell me what I have to change about myself..." Would I? Maybe I'm not actually so selfish.
I wonder what she would say.

"HUMANS CAN LICK TOO."
Goddammit.........................

I get up. I'll open the door, I suppose. Anna's still up; I can hear her. Careful, step over the side of the bed, don't wanna get licked......

Let there be light! said the Lord to his world.
The door is open now. The light comes in at a funny angle, all the shadows melt. The story seems so silly with the door open, I thought. The lights outside my window are flickering now in front of my closed eyelids like a television set in an empty room.

I'm cold, so I put on my blankets, but then I'm sweating. Repeat for an hour and then I put on my pajama tops.
I don't remember when I fell asleep.

Oh, my first comment...

All of a sudden, this feels like whining now, not writing...

But I shouldn't say that... some people are guilt-stricken so easily...

me, definitely.
I'll keep writing.

Like...
Today I read the story of Samson, and I was expecting to cry, and I did.
I mean, the angel came and told his mom, and he was out on the field on a windy day, I imagined, and she called out to her husband, and they were happy...
And the other time, he was pissed like they had no idea, and they burned his wife... He burned their fields.
And he killed a bunch of them, and he was so thirsty and tired afterwards, and perhaps it was the sun shining down on him, no clouds, that made him so tired of having these stupid things happen to him, but then he found water, so it's all good.
And at the end, his eyes were gone, and he braced himself against the pillars, and he was probably upset at himself, and he pulled down the entire temple, and then he won.

And like... I think he found something amazing.
And then I haven't cried in forever. I think I was in love all over again, too.
But it all disappeared just yesterday, and today I still have that empty feeling, bitter brown medicine, empty tires, whateverness.
I wonder if Samson went to Heaven.

5 Years Time

or two?