I promise, last Killers song for the remainder of time.
Seventeen tracks and I've had it with this game
I'm breaking my back just to know your name
But heaven ain't close in a place like this
Anything goes but don't blink-- you might miss
Bring it back down, bring it back down tonight
Never thought I'd let a rumor ruin my moonlight
It's not confidential
I've got potential
A rushin a rushin around
-The Killers, "Somebody Told Me"
Yesterday, I sat on my back balcony, smoking and pondering the usual crap, when two butterflies chasing each other flew into my lap. They only stayed for a moment, then sailed away in opposite directions. I'm not a Wiccan, but I wonder if this is some sort of omen, or blessing? Later that night, a heat lightening storm floated through my area. I sat outside and watched it; it was as if God was taking pictures of me.
Okay enough peyote for now.
"...we are certainly all not infrequently like madmen, but with the slight difference that the deranged are somewhat madder, for we must draw a line. A normal man, it is true, hardly exists. Among dozens-- perhaps hundreds of thousands-- hardly one is to be met with."
-Dostoevsky
My landland phone died last night, but I didn't find out until just before I went to bed. I had come home to find that my machine contained three messages that, though from different callers, sounded almost identical. silence. silence. Hello? silence. Hello??!!! silence (random profanity) click. Before I had a chance to channel Father Marin from The Exorcist, my phone rang. I picked up the receiver to find that all outgoing sound from my end was dead-- no one had heard the answering machine greeting and had perhaps assumed an escapee from the local sanitarium was in my house, picking up the receiver but refusing to speak (or whose voice was muffled significantly by a scary pillowcase or mask). [random Student Bodies tangent here: (heavy breathing) I'm gonna kill the kid with the gum! (pant pant!) ] Dammit! I have to buya new phone/answering machine combo now. Thank God for that per diem hooker assignment from Manpower.
I am going to an Adult Swim tonight which should be...er, interesting.
On a side note to a reader who knows who he is: sometimes having an overactive imagination sucks, and, it takes a player to spot a player. It was only a matter of karmic time before I myself fell for someone who might have only thought of ME as a dixie-cup. It's not that I don't like you for exactly who you are: I do; I just don't like myself liking you as much as I do. Those of you who have been reading my journal from the earliest posts know what I mean. Don't drink the Kool-Aid, kids: nobody can be a jaded badass all the time.
On a final note: I share with you with joyful proclamation that I am now halfway through Crime and Punishment, and Liz was right: Dostoevsky is a literary genius. Anyone who can make an axe-wielding monomaniac a sympathetic character deserves major kudos, in my book. Sorry, OJ, your biographer doesn't qualify.
Wish me luck that I snag a float at the pool tonight before they are all gone
Seventeen tracks and I've had it with this game
I'm breaking my back just to know your name
But heaven ain't close in a place like this
Anything goes but don't blink-- you might miss
Bring it back down, bring it back down tonight
Never thought I'd let a rumor ruin my moonlight
It's not confidential
I've got potential
A rushin a rushin around
-The Killers, "Somebody Told Me"
Yesterday, I sat on my back balcony, smoking and pondering the usual crap, when two butterflies chasing each other flew into my lap. They only stayed for a moment, then sailed away in opposite directions. I'm not a Wiccan, but I wonder if this is some sort of omen, or blessing? Later that night, a heat lightening storm floated through my area. I sat outside and watched it; it was as if God was taking pictures of me.
Okay enough peyote for now.
"...we are certainly all not infrequently like madmen, but with the slight difference that the deranged are somewhat madder, for we must draw a line. A normal man, it is true, hardly exists. Among dozens-- perhaps hundreds of thousands-- hardly one is to be met with."
-Dostoevsky
My landland phone died last night, but I didn't find out until just before I went to bed. I had come home to find that my machine contained three messages that, though from different callers, sounded almost identical. silence. silence. Hello? silence. Hello??!!! silence (random profanity) click. Before I had a chance to channel Father Marin from The Exorcist, my phone rang. I picked up the receiver to find that all outgoing sound from my end was dead-- no one had heard the answering machine greeting and had perhaps assumed an escapee from the local sanitarium was in my house, picking up the receiver but refusing to speak (or whose voice was muffled significantly by a scary pillowcase or mask). [random Student Bodies tangent here: (heavy breathing) I'm gonna kill the kid with the gum! (pant pant!) ] Dammit! I have to buya new phone/answering machine combo now. Thank God for that per diem hooker assignment from Manpower.
I am going to an Adult Swim tonight which should be...er, interesting.
On a side note to a reader who knows who he is: sometimes having an overactive imagination sucks, and, it takes a player to spot a player. It was only a matter of karmic time before I myself fell for someone who might have only thought of ME as a dixie-cup. It's not that I don't like you for exactly who you are: I do; I just don't like myself liking you as much as I do. Those of you who have been reading my journal from the earliest posts know what I mean. Don't drink the Kool-Aid, kids: nobody can be a jaded badass all the time.
On a final note: I share with you with joyful proclamation that I am now halfway through Crime and Punishment, and Liz was right: Dostoevsky is a literary genius. Anyone who can make an axe-wielding monomaniac a sympathetic character deserves major kudos, in my book. Sorry, OJ, your biographer doesn't qualify.
Wish me luck that I snag a float at the pool tonight before they are all gone