On Roofs and Makeouts
How horribly productive I feel I will be today. A quarter to eleven and I have yet to shower, ingest breakfast foods, and ultimately fly off to work. The lack of a boss-like figure (who, consequently, is in China) may be the driving force behind this.
Would I be crazy to insinuate that people have walls that they erect to protect themselves from outside influences? Brick by brick, the insulate themselves such that very little is able to penetrate and cause injury? If this is the case, can we take another step forward and assume that some people have walls to hold horrid things in, away from the prying eye? Those wretched feelings of hate, guilt, sadness, frustration, or despair, locked away in a form of emotional constipation? I think it is these very walls that allow me to sleep at night.
My sleep last night was absolutely tragic. On the scale of sleepers, I would mostly be arranged with those that are "light" and the most trivial of noises can keep me from slumber. Most recently the jinglish-jangle of my roommate's dog's collar's license. All blame lays on the license and none on aforementioned roommate, dog, or collar. I really must apologize for my rude behavior last night, in which the collar (along with accompanying license) from the dog's neck and left to lie, no explanation given.
Complex? That's what life is. And what a group of buildings is called. And how I feel.
There is much joy that can be found in the realization that a car has not been towed, or that the small, green sheet of paper that lays underneath the windshield wiper is merely a warning. Not a ticket.
The ultimate in surprises can be found in re-meeting a person. An individual who, up until that particular moment, you had practically forgotten existed, but whose very presence is invigorating and exciting.
I have a compelling need to see Kristi.
And I now have a compelling need to wrap this all off. But how can you just end such a complex train of thought, especially one that was so unknowingly heart-wrenching?
Maybe on something exquisitely joyous.
"You are delightful."
Would I be crazy to insinuate that people have walls that they erect to protect themselves from outside influences? Brick by brick, the insulate themselves such that very little is able to penetrate and cause injury? If this is the case, can we take another step forward and assume that some people have walls to hold horrid things in, away from the prying eye? Those wretched feelings of hate, guilt, sadness, frustration, or despair, locked away in a form of emotional constipation? I think it is these very walls that allow me to sleep at night.
My sleep last night was absolutely tragic. On the scale of sleepers, I would mostly be arranged with those that are "light" and the most trivial of noises can keep me from slumber. Most recently the jinglish-jangle of my roommate's dog's collar's license. All blame lays on the license and none on aforementioned roommate, dog, or collar. I really must apologize for my rude behavior last night, in which the collar (along with accompanying license) from the dog's neck and left to lie, no explanation given.
Complex? That's what life is. And what a group of buildings is called. And how I feel.
There is much joy that can be found in the realization that a car has not been towed, or that the small, green sheet of paper that lays underneath the windshield wiper is merely a warning. Not a ticket.
The ultimate in surprises can be found in re-meeting a person. An individual who, up until that particular moment, you had practically forgotten existed, but whose very presence is invigorating and exciting.
I have a compelling need to see Kristi.
And I now have a compelling need to wrap this all off. But how can you just end such a complex train of thought, especially one that was so unknowingly heart-wrenching?
Maybe on something exquisitely joyous.
"You are delightful."