Another Lazy Day
5 minutes of my Life as written by Charles Dickens....
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was a cold morning, it was a scalding morning. There was a small bed, there was a big window. Under an ugly rock, hid an ugly bear. It was the alarm clock, it was the damn cat.
In these troubling times, a boy sleeps with only one leg under a blanket, as if he were Achilles hiding his heel. He lies, trembling in the cool morning air, like a leaf in the wind. The bed is old, rugged, and malnourished, thin and weak from lack of bread, a sale to a boat, flying away. Two pillows lie peacefully nestled at the top of the bed, dead and unmoving, like eyeballs after reading one of my books. The dwelling of the bed, it's occupant, and it's pillows, is in disaray. Clothes, books, and nick nacks of all assortments appear to be randomly thrown about, as if by some pillager or thief.
A cat sits outside the door, yelling at the door repeatedly as if ordering it to open, as if searching for the secret password. The calls echo from it's bowells, one after another, a storm of meows ejaculating from such a small creature, like a thunger storm. The cat swats at the door in vain, as it cannot open it, but merely makes thumping noises, like a heart beat to a man who just jumped out of a building.
The door knob turns, clockwise, like a clock. This golden hued object thrusts itself out from the door, jarring the eyes, and threatening the crotchal area when the door swings like Hercules Olympian Club. It's round, like the earth, and opens locks, like time, as if it were the Lord Himself. The doornob still turns, it's muffed serface steal gleaming in the early morning light, as though the sun were illuminating it for all to see. It calls to the cat, tells it to be patient, to be ready, and to puke in the kitchen, as though the doorknob was a segway between our world and another.
A head appears in the slightly opened doorway. It's the sleeping boy, awaked by the calls of his desperate cat. An expression of exasperation reaches his face as he exits his room, much akin to a parent being woken by a child for a glass of water. The boy walks tiredly, stumbling to the kitchen door, opening it, and shooing the cat outside who gleefully obliges. He then turns back toward his room, and like a soldier returning from war, hides under the covers not wanting to think about the cat for a few more hours."
....Now, imagine a whole book of that. Where every bloody sentence has a smilie or metaphore, and he'll describe something like the steam coming from a horses nostrils for a whole paragraph. And, while the social observations are masterful,(People like wine... and think crazy people are funny... hmm, really?) I just can't get going with this book, it's too dull.
Bah, I prolly can't concentrate on it because my brains preoccupied. I'm reading "Neverwhere" which is pretty good so far(MUCH more interesting than Dickens) and "Don Quixote" which is just as difficult to read, but, you can at least get into it.
...And of course, there's a certain book that comes out tomarrow that's distracting me...
I'm hoping to convince my mom to stop at the Rochester Wal-mart on the way to My Aunts, so I'll have it on the way down to Connecticut.
I made the start of an Icon today... but, I don't know how to finish it, lol. It's one of my Spider-Man Action Figures, pointing at my cat, and I added, "It's Asskicking Time." I thought it looked funny. I'll try to use it..but, I dunno how it'll go.
I'm missing two of my CDs, which is really bothering me. LCD Soundsystem disk 1, which is one of the best CDs I have(Seriously, if you've never heard of LCD Soundsystem, consider it reccomended. It's Techno-Rock, but, some of the Songs are just infectious). And I've had a revelation... they might be at Aldens. I'll have to investigate.
I had the worse dream the other night, but, I don't think I'll ever forget it, so I don't need to talk about it. That's why I mentioned it, of course. ::dies::
You. I noticed that each one of these lines started in "I", so, I figured I change things up. But, each of my thoughts still starts in I. That's because I'm the best.
Whcih is why I'm thinking about getting one more Video Game, called, "Black And White" in which you are a God, and influence your villagers as such. You can give them rain, or smite them down, making them fearful or grateful of you. Meh, looked interesting, though that might just be my inner dictator speaking.
Soccer starts in a week... Still not sure how I feel about that. Good, cause I love soccer... bad because I'll be worked into the ground, my coach sucks, and some of the kids on the team are major A-Rods(Couldn't think of anything worse... Well, "Bush Administration" comes to mind...), but, meh, should that stop me from my 10th year playing?
I hiked up Mount Washington the other day.... and ya know... I liked it on the mountain. If I didn't plan on having a family, and helping out my mom, I would want to just walk the Appalacian all year, and walk accross America. I mean, if that old guy on Sport Center could do it, I could too.
But, that's not going to work. It sounds great, but, I'm not gonna do it. I've got plans.
...Well... sort-of...
-DK
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was a cold morning, it was a scalding morning. There was a small bed, there was a big window. Under an ugly rock, hid an ugly bear. It was the alarm clock, it was the damn cat.
In these troubling times, a boy sleeps with only one leg under a blanket, as if he were Achilles hiding his heel. He lies, trembling in the cool morning air, like a leaf in the wind. The bed is old, rugged, and malnourished, thin and weak from lack of bread, a sale to a boat, flying away. Two pillows lie peacefully nestled at the top of the bed, dead and unmoving, like eyeballs after reading one of my books. The dwelling of the bed, it's occupant, and it's pillows, is in disaray. Clothes, books, and nick nacks of all assortments appear to be randomly thrown about, as if by some pillager or thief.
A cat sits outside the door, yelling at the door repeatedly as if ordering it to open, as if searching for the secret password. The calls echo from it's bowells, one after another, a storm of meows ejaculating from such a small creature, like a thunger storm. The cat swats at the door in vain, as it cannot open it, but merely makes thumping noises, like a heart beat to a man who just jumped out of a building.
The door knob turns, clockwise, like a clock. This golden hued object thrusts itself out from the door, jarring the eyes, and threatening the crotchal area when the door swings like Hercules Olympian Club. It's round, like the earth, and opens locks, like time, as if it were the Lord Himself. The doornob still turns, it's muffed serface steal gleaming in the early morning light, as though the sun were illuminating it for all to see. It calls to the cat, tells it to be patient, to be ready, and to puke in the kitchen, as though the doorknob was a segway between our world and another.
A head appears in the slightly opened doorway. It's the sleeping boy, awaked by the calls of his desperate cat. An expression of exasperation reaches his face as he exits his room, much akin to a parent being woken by a child for a glass of water. The boy walks tiredly, stumbling to the kitchen door, opening it, and shooing the cat outside who gleefully obliges. He then turns back toward his room, and like a soldier returning from war, hides under the covers not wanting to think about the cat for a few more hours."
....Now, imagine a whole book of that. Where every bloody sentence has a smilie or metaphore, and he'll describe something like the steam coming from a horses nostrils for a whole paragraph. And, while the social observations are masterful,(People like wine... and think crazy people are funny... hmm, really?) I just can't get going with this book, it's too dull.
Bah, I prolly can't concentrate on it because my brains preoccupied. I'm reading "Neverwhere" which is pretty good so far(MUCH more interesting than Dickens) and "Don Quixote" which is just as difficult to read, but, you can at least get into it.
...And of course, there's a certain book that comes out tomarrow that's distracting me...
I'm hoping to convince my mom to stop at the Rochester Wal-mart on the way to My Aunts, so I'll have it on the way down to Connecticut.
I made the start of an Icon today... but, I don't know how to finish it, lol. It's one of my Spider-Man Action Figures, pointing at my cat, and I added, "It's Asskicking Time." I thought it looked funny. I'll try to use it..but, I dunno how it'll go.
I'm missing two of my CDs, which is really bothering me. LCD Soundsystem disk 1, which is one of the best CDs I have(Seriously, if you've never heard of LCD Soundsystem, consider it reccomended. It's Techno-Rock, but, some of the Songs are just infectious). And I've had a revelation... they might be at Aldens. I'll have to investigate.
I had the worse dream the other night, but, I don't think I'll ever forget it, so I don't need to talk about it. That's why I mentioned it, of course. ::dies::
You. I noticed that each one of these lines started in "I", so, I figured I change things up. But, each of my thoughts still starts in I. That's because I'm the best.
Whcih is why I'm thinking about getting one more Video Game, called, "Black And White" in which you are a God, and influence your villagers as such. You can give them rain, or smite them down, making them fearful or grateful of you. Meh, looked interesting, though that might just be my inner dictator speaking.
Soccer starts in a week... Still not sure how I feel about that. Good, cause I love soccer... bad because I'll be worked into the ground, my coach sucks, and some of the kids on the team are major A-Rods(Couldn't think of anything worse... Well, "Bush Administration" comes to mind...), but, meh, should that stop me from my 10th year playing?
I hiked up Mount Washington the other day.... and ya know... I liked it on the mountain. If I didn't plan on having a family, and helping out my mom, I would want to just walk the Appalacian all year, and walk accross America. I mean, if that old guy on Sport Center could do it, I could too.
But, that's not going to work. It sounds great, but, I'm not gonna do it. I've got plans.
...Well... sort-of...
-DK