Thoughts at the moment:

Meditation in my small prairie home.
Overcast sky, heat rising from the earth.
Blue curtains of rain in the far distance that may or may not reach us.
Walking the length of a rock wall, thinking of nothing.

I love The Who. Aside from their most commercially succssful works, they're great performers. So vitriolic and angry. Just watch this video, which is probably one of my favorite songs.

Haven't written on here lately. It's mostly because I've been going through a sort of writer's block. Well, more like I've lost any need to communicate through words. Mostly mumbles and grunts up to this point, really.

I did have a bit of a realization the other day. So let's keep this as general as possible, mostly for privacy's sake*:

The other day I was walking around campus listening to someone lament their troubles to me. These particular complaints were in some way related to my life. If told of such things before, I'd usually feel distressed and somewhat depressed right afterward. However, this time I noticed that I didn't feel any sort of displeasure when they told me about all of these things. I've come to the conclusion that if it is a situation that does not directly affect me, my lifestyle or any immediate family, then there isn't a need to take it into consideration. I can essentially run away. "You're on your own now, kid". Indeed I am. We all are. Terrifying at first, but it's so exciting!

It does get to me once in a while. To be honest, I feel a bit of my youth draining away when this happens. I become very quiet and being alive is almost unbearable. However, why bother being embittered by the actions of someone else? If anything, they're anticipating the fact that you feel miserable for attaining such information. Hell, they messed up their life. They just want someone else to feel miserable so they can feed off it.

After I finished the conversation, I walked with a particular lilt in my step and for the first time in a long while I looked up at the sky. It was that beautiful haze that I admired so much when I was a child. Good lord, the days are just asking to be seized. And throttled, by golly.





*Details have been changed mostly because I'm too lazy to include them.

Everyday Phil sits in front of the window, puffed up, staring outward. He grumbles whenever I call his name, and hisses at me when I catch him offguard to give him a snack. When he sees a dove fly in and land on the bird feeder, he begins to screech uncontrollably.

Well, Phil is a cockatiel, after all.

I've had Phil for a few months, and sufficed to say, he's a weird bird. He has a small cage (which I will replace soon) so I let him have free reign as long as he is within earshot. Whenever he sees other birds, he begins whistling and screeching bloody murder and starts to frantically tap at the window, hoping to catch their attention.

Sometimes when I'm watching a movie on my laptop, he walks out of the cage with a cracker in his beak and plops down nearby to, presumably, watch the movie. When he gets lonely, I'll pull him out of his cage and he'll jump on my shoulder. Other times, he'll just fly off to the top of his cage and will hiss at me if I get too close. Unless I have a snack, naturally. Then I can scratch his head all I want.

Once in a while, he climbs up the side of his cage and falls asleep while dangling from his beak. Several times I've been awoken by a loud "thunk", only to realize Phil fell into a deep sleep and fell off his cage.

What a weirdo.

Maybe it's just me, but why does everyone look alike? Good God, they're all dressing the same, it's hard to distinguish "it" from "that". Feathered hair brushed to the side or stick-straight ironed hair with gaudy makeup. Why couldn't I have lived in the renaissance or sometime exciting, like the 40s? Granted, I'm not a style maven, but at least I'd like to see some colors and style that don't make me think a blacklight exploded all over these children, who then decided that neon fingerpaints would make it all better.

Hopefully when I exit this nihilistic HELLHOLE in which I've trapped myself(in the literal sense, really I'm not joking at all), I'll still retain some characteristics of a decent person. I've got get out of this place.

As I sit here, impassively looking at my watch and drinking a soda, I keep wishing that I grew up already. I'm getting rather fed up with this entire mess. I want a little more substance to life.

Although many believe your past shapes your future, is it possible to completely negate your past and become a single, isolated entity? I used to dwell quite a bit on the past, wishing I was still four and running through vast farming fields until my grandmother called my name. Believe me, if the Good Lord ever permitted us to go back in time and stay in a particular moment for all eternity, it would be with her and my mother, sitting under the cool trees next to the canal. But now I realize that it's really quite useless to be nostalgic, and it stops one from living.

So I want to stop being dead. I want to live. I want something new. If there ever was a meaning to life, it would be to learn and see as much as you possibly can before you die. Not changing the world, per se, but at least leave some indelible mark on someone or something. A mark that would say you were here, you took charge and you didn't sit around waiting for the next big bang.

...and I keep looking at my watch, sipping a soda. Waiting for the next big deal that will fade away and be mentally archived by morons who think it'll be cool and retro when they remember it ten years from now. I look at the scantily clad women on the television, and I really begin to regret that I was born a female. Then I pretend I'm on a desolate highway somewhere, and my soul takes flight.

Readying to bury your father and your mother,

What did you think when you lost another?

I used to wonder why did you bother.

Distanced from one, blind to the other?

Listen here my sister and my brother

What would you care if you lost the other?

I always wonder why did we bother.

Distanced from one, deaf to the other.

Oh, but sweetness follows.

It's these little things, they can pull you under.

Live your life filled with joy and wonder.

I always knew this altogether thunder

Was lost in our little lives.

It's these little things, they can pull you under.

Live your life filled with joy and thunder.

Yeah, yeah we were altogether

Lost in our little lives.

Oh, but sweetness follows.

Sometimes, when no one's around and I'm feeling particularly lonely, I like to put on the very crappy oddball music that always gets me happy and turn the volume up as high as I can tolerate.  I then proceed to dance like Ed Grimley as I leap and bound my way through the house.

I miss the elation of acting like a complete fool.

What a moron.

Alright, it's a horrible day and I'm battling this particular wave of depression.  Although I'm trying to cope with it, certain outside elements (and idiots) make it almost too much to bear.  The depression seems to get worse before it gets any better and I keep thinking "Ego specto nex".  The damned phrase just jumps into my regular train of thought and the urge to follow through with it only depresses me more because I can't exactly go against the canon.