(no subject)
Despite a small mountain of things to do (many of which should have been done long ago) life somehow continues to be... nonthreatening. Controllable. Dare I even say, "pleasant"? Come to think of it, no, I don't, but the possibility is something to hope for. It was a short week and a shorter weekend; tests were taken, homework dodged, studying attempted, games played, limbs severed, gnolls decapitated, and Pander antitribu diablerized... Ah well.
It's been one of those weeks where I almost feel like I know what's going on; one of the more dangerous sensations I'm prone to. Usually I can rest safe in the knowledge that I'll be utterly oblivious to whatever happens, but of late that seems to be failing. Not that I'm noticing things any more often... just that I'm finally picking up on how to deal with them. You know, rereading the above paragraph, it doesn't make any friggin' sense - should delete it and start again, but I'm too lazy at this point. Bleh.
Just bear with me and assume that there actually is a point to this inane babbling for a second. I think what I was getting at when I started this narcisstic mini-rant was that I've noticed I'm almost starting to think at times. Not much, mind you, but a little. There's still plenty of the knee-jerk sarcasm/disdain response I rely on for wit, the obsessive geek quotes that are my humor, the outlandish threats that I try to use for anger, and the bewildered silence that covers every other possible response, but for just a few moments in the past six months or so, there have almost been bits of spontaneity, perhaps some actual intelligent decisions, maybe some humanity, and God save me, responsibility. I'm probably being too optimistic (surprisingly easy, considering the time of day/night/whatever. Anyway, my goal of typing til I was more or less incoherent has been fulfilled (took a distressingly short period of time too, but I can worry about that later).
It's been one of those weeks where I almost feel like I know what's going on; one of the more dangerous sensations I'm prone to. Usually I can rest safe in the knowledge that I'll be utterly oblivious to whatever happens, but of late that seems to be failing. Not that I'm noticing things any more often... just that I'm finally picking up on how to deal with them. You know, rereading the above paragraph, it doesn't make any friggin' sense - should delete it and start again, but I'm too lazy at this point. Bleh.
Just bear with me and assume that there actually is a point to this inane babbling for a second. I think what I was getting at when I started this narcisstic mini-rant was that I've noticed I'm almost starting to think at times. Not much, mind you, but a little. There's still plenty of the knee-jerk sarcasm/disdain response I rely on for wit, the obsessive geek quotes that are my humor, the outlandish threats that I try to use for anger, and the bewildered silence that covers every other possible response, but for just a few moments in the past six months or so, there have almost been bits of spontaneity, perhaps some actual intelligent decisions, maybe some humanity, and God save me, responsibility. I'm probably being too optimistic (surprisingly easy, considering the time of day/night/whatever. Anyway, my goal of typing til I was more or less incoherent has been fulfilled (took a distressingly short period of time too, but I can worry about that later).