Insomnia: door to a world that never was
2002-11-23 - 12:09 a.m.
Day1. resolution toward not sleeping this week, just to see what happens. yes, I'm that bored. and that much concerned about refinding the goblins of mind. seems it's been so long since the goblin swamp was destroyed, and law won the battle over good. and it's an odd sort of feeling, missing one's self...of course you're right there, i mean, here. and never the same. i've got a note full of pockets to help me on the journey though, so at least i'll end up with the entertainment value of it after the week is over. Start Experiment.
Day4. having defeated my purpose on day3, i should have had no problem sleeping today. minor conclusions of this experiment include the gain of useful time at the loss of ability to use that time effectively, instead of sitting around and drooling, snapping your head back and forth like a toy that�s not sure whether it�s a yo-yo, a slinky, or one of those little bubbles that sits inverted on the floor and pops up when you most expect it.
Day2. used the CVS card to buy 16-litres of underpriced coke. At my current drinking rate, I'll need to go shopping again in a week. note that nothing else was accomplished today.
Day1 (continued). saw �Harry Potter: chamber of basilisks� in the evening (no comment), and (more importantly) picked up a CVS card on the floor of the Prudential Center. oh, the fun we will have. on the same day and on similar lines, i picked up a right-hand black leather glove in the subway station at Boylston. sure it looked foolish, but that was the point�the Michael Jackson impressions might have been a little overboard. and episodes of SeaQuest 2001, just the thing for a tired mind.
Day3. got sleep, two hours and change. not sure if this defeats my purpose, my resolution...for at the time, I had quite forgotten what I had been trying to do. Swiss cheese brain soggy with boredom...in short, I had nothing better to do but sleep for a few hours until the rest of the world became more functional. Not that there's anything wrong with a self-motivated-fully-displaced-and-slightly-lost-but-still-spinning-gear.
Day2. take two. go fish, i gots no twos, �cept these two. confused. like, thursday-night-when-squares-pace-do-they-walk-in-circles-and-if-so-do-toroids-blow-smoke-spheres?
Day6. head home�miss the bus from portland to bangor because we left later than we should have�forgot to pay for my end of gas, but with any luck i�ll remember when i get back from vacation. Very long periods of blinking during the ride, and once i got onto a bus i curled right up into dreamyland.
Day5. failed a microbio test, 66 of 100. not sure there�s any way i can pass the course, and this might cause a problem because it�s a requirement for a course i need to graduate this semester. Not to mention that i wanted to go to RPI to learn the intricacies of computational representations of biology�i�m at the top of a sharp hill, the wind is blowing in the horses face�hiccups, damn you hiccups!
Day3 (continued)�.ah, whot?
'everything in a hypothetical sense, my truth is theory, so to speak, so we think...and we think and think and think, but we never get, any-where...' -DJ Nemo
making out with dyani, both drunk off our asses and trying to figure out the plot of one of the mortal combat movies. got a little bit more sober and noticed the other guy passed out at the other end of the bed. i swear, this diary could be used as a warning for the aliens, to inform them of all the bullshit earthlings gotta put up with.
been thinking about this one, since a short while before Lindsay (myownfool.diaryland.com) made some comments on this issue. a lot of people try to walk through life pretending that money doesn't matter, that what other people think doesn't matter, that there is some higher order of priorities above the order that's given to us through the television. problem is, this particular order of priorities, the 'ideal order', so to grunt, doesn't exist. it's only hinted to in epic television series...specifically, the series that seem to get kicked off the air and replaced by cooking shows. the world, one starts to fear, is a practical place, and you're a practical girl. a realty filled with practical experience at a practical cost, for practical people to derive practical solutions to practical problems so that we may, in the end, practically reinvent ourselves. you can't say to yourself that money doesn't matter...you can only imagine a word that resembles {life-money}. you cannot say that what people think doesn't matter to you, for such is the logic of an egotist (and you wouldn't want to be known as an egotist, would you, and why not? because...think of what they would say. and then jenny premovara would go to the prom with joe instead of you and...). not caring what other people think means acting in the same manner toward your best friend and that uncharismatic boob that just doesn't understand why he annoys the shyt out of you. it means having no friends, because it means not caring about others in general. in a sense, by trying to care for everyone, you end up caring for no one. thus, one eventually discovers that the order in question must fall back to a more practical order of operation...it may be possible that the practical applications in our lives are the media with which we share the higher-order... (truncated thought)
and now it�s that time again, for the black comedy portion of our show, take 2. so checkit, i got this chick, yo. and don't get me wrong, i love her to death but...there's no but, ya know? i dun't mean there be no butt, no aaasss, there be ass for twenty men. (i know because she gives me the 'inside scoop' on that stuff, ya know?) *whole-body scooping motions*. i mean, there's nothin to complain about, no exceptions, no little things that make her less than perfect. ya wouldn't think that this would be a problem, but then you're sittin there at the bar with your buddies, and they all be complain..."oh i just wish she had a little more this" and "waa, my girl, you know what she said?". and it gets around to my turn, and i try, i really try...but i just kinda sit there and scratch my head like *finger to lateral orbital margin, expression of confusion*. now, just by my inability to see somethin wrong with this girl, my boys start thinkin that there's somethin out there that's better than what they've got. and i see their relationships start to spiral, because they think there's something more out there. this is why i say, a guy just needs to complain, you know. it's heeeaalthy. it's ggooood. so then my boys' girls be hatin me because of what I didn't tell their boys, and they be mad at my girl because they think she's somethin they have to be compared to. so it's so simple, see, there's just three qualities that make a good woman. 'course, it's got nothin to do with money, or doin stuff around the house, or even whether she shot her last husband or paid someone else to do it. first, she gotta be cute. and when i say that i mean her personality has to be cute...sexy with a touch of feigned gullibility mmm-yea, you know. and she's gotta be short. i dunno 'bout the other guys on this planet, but that's the one thing that'll turn me off like that. *snaps fingers and spins around michael-jacksonish* third thing, it's good to get a girl that's loud. oh yea, and it helps if she's of legal age. But other than that, you need look no further�those three things and you got it all�it�s keepin what you got that�s the problem. but you know, we gots a right to complain, us men do�women says all the time that they�ve got the whole burden of the society, and god cursed them with the responsibility of having children�wel I gots sumthin� to say to them girls�god didn�t give you that responsibility, he gave you the ability to have children, yo. It�s your own damned choice to have one. but men, we got it hard�i mean, not very often�like you ever try takin� your girl to KFC? �course she�s not gonna want to eat anything, and don�t tell her anything about anything that rhymes with the cousin of the word �fat�, �cuz that�s you eatin� chicken by yourself, after she get done cursin� you out. and then you gotta watch what you order, �cuz she�ll use it against you, yo. get a bucket of legs and she�s gonna think you�re a legman pervert�er lookin� at the cashier�s legs instead of hers and shyt. Get a chicken breast, don�t even wanna go there. you know there be guys out there goin� ta KFC with their girl and be like �no popcorn chicken!? what you mean no popcorn chicken�that�s all that�s left on the menu, man! you go back there and get some of that popcorn chicken er i�ll pop you one in your chicken!� and then the girls all thinkin� about what�s so important about the popcorn chicken��cuz man, them girls they got the dirtiest minds�you bring your mama into KFC and she�s all hittin� you with the pocket book *whumpwhumpwhump* �I didn�t raise no breast-eater! I know mama didn�t raise no perve like you.� *whumpwhump* alright�so I was thinkin� the other day�you ever wonder where those guys at the football game go? i'm not talkin bout the players, we know they go off to the strip clubs after the game for free...anything-the-fuck-they-want, you know? even if they lost, girls be like �oo, bring that pigskin over here, big boy�. but the fans, you know, those morons with the bright paint on their bodies, screamin and gettin into fights? they gotta be somewhere when there's not a football game, and they sure as hell aren't hangin out at the tenis tournaments, or even the basketball games. ain't goin' to no figure-skatin matches neither. naa, see, my theory is that they gotta be more or less normal guys. go home and drink a couple beers and beat up their wives before they pass out on the kitchen table and wake up for their brain-numbing factory jobs. These are the heroes of football, the fans that made it that extra something special. yo. i just find it funni, in an odd sorta way, how someone can be all �yea-yea-yea!� while they're inside a coliseum with other painted sweaty shirtless guys, but act all chill as shyt all the rest of the time. like it�s just some big fa�ade that they put up because they wanna be on TV�damn white boys, always tryin� ta be sumthin they�re not. *shakes head* but i gotta say, if there�s one thing white boys is good at, it�s for paintin on. make a good canvas, you know?
""I say from the bottom of my heart and soul that our Islamic system can only carry on if it guarantees the maximum of legitimate freedoms within the framework of the constitution," he [Mohammad Mosavi-Khoeniha] said in his defence." -BBC News, August 4, 1999
it's like, when you stare at something for too long, too straight, it disappears in the darknesses of your own mind, forgetful shadows crawling in from the corners of once-brilliant visions.
