Hm...
"At the center of your being you have the answer; you know who you are and you know what you want."
- Lao Tzu.
I find comfort in what he says.
Anyways, I feel like a robot. In regards to school and work anyways. I go to school/work, do what I'm supposed to do with minimal effort, and then sleep. My only breaks are from painting and watching Scrubs recently.
Also, my skin's turning into metal and I no longer have female anatomical parts, only lug nuts.
I can't even longboard anymore because I strained some muscle in my over-sized man-calf...fuck, with a calf this big, I should be able to crush the Empire State Building with a flex, but apparently if you longboard 8 miles a day for a little while, well, that can weaken a man's calf a bit...
I just wrote a paragraph about my calf. I could go into more detail, but it might sexually excite you.
I have a zombie bite on my arm. The fucker attacked me at work...only had one tooth, so it left a nasty scrape on my arm. Did you know the layer underneath your outermost layer is a pure white?
Fuck man, I want my boring classes to be over so I can look forward to next year's classes, I want good grades despite my complete apathy towards all subjects, an internship, a volunteering gig, two jobs, and a new place at the Arbors. But I don't want to put forth the effort to get those things, I want it all to land in my robot lap.
I dissected squids in my biology class the other day, and since then, have been drawing them everywhere. The things that spark creativity are loco-roco, man. Because, I haven't just been doodling them, yeah, that's how it started, but now I'm painting them, with Emily...and we're not just painting them, but painting versions of them in Buddha stances, as rocket ships, surrounded by flowers, holding each other on a beach watching the sunset, in technicolor hodgepodges, walking down the street with a boombox and bright green sunglasses...it's getting crazy. We're making a collage, our canvases taking the form of whatever cardboard is at hand. And we're getting all of our friends on it, too.
I'm pretty sure that they think we're out of our minds (we are), but they don't resist it, and instead say "fuck it" and join us in whatever new, weird thing we decide to obsess with at the time...
I got asked on a date. It's not really about that though, because it's not supposed to happen until sometime next week, and it's a stranger-kid who approached me in a really cute way (asked me to sign a petition, I debated the ethics of such a cause for no good reason other than I'm a pain in the ass, we divulged in witty banter, he followed me on a skateboard and told me I was cute, always a plus), so let's face it, it's probably not going to happen.
But the point is, maybe I can move on and realize there are plenty of fish in the sea. Or squids rather. "There are plenty of cephalopods in the sea." Take that, Lao Tzu.
Peace, love, and squids.
- Lao Tzu.
I find comfort in what he says.
Anyways, I feel like a robot. In regards to school and work anyways. I go to school/work, do what I'm supposed to do with minimal effort, and then sleep. My only breaks are from painting and watching Scrubs recently.
Also, my skin's turning into metal and I no longer have female anatomical parts, only lug nuts.
I can't even longboard anymore because I strained some muscle in my over-sized man-calf...fuck, with a calf this big, I should be able to crush the Empire State Building with a flex, but apparently if you longboard 8 miles a day for a little while, well, that can weaken a man's calf a bit...
I just wrote a paragraph about my calf. I could go into more detail, but it might sexually excite you.
I have a zombie bite on my arm. The fucker attacked me at work...only had one tooth, so it left a nasty scrape on my arm. Did you know the layer underneath your outermost layer is a pure white?
Fuck man, I want my boring classes to be over so I can look forward to next year's classes, I want good grades despite my complete apathy towards all subjects, an internship, a volunteering gig, two jobs, and a new place at the Arbors. But I don't want to put forth the effort to get those things, I want it all to land in my robot lap.
I dissected squids in my biology class the other day, and since then, have been drawing them everywhere. The things that spark creativity are loco-roco, man. Because, I haven't just been doodling them, yeah, that's how it started, but now I'm painting them, with Emily...and we're not just painting them, but painting versions of them in Buddha stances, as rocket ships, surrounded by flowers, holding each other on a beach watching the sunset, in technicolor hodgepodges, walking down the street with a boombox and bright green sunglasses...it's getting crazy. We're making a collage, our canvases taking the form of whatever cardboard is at hand. And we're getting all of our friends on it, too.
I'm pretty sure that they think we're out of our minds (we are), but they don't resist it, and instead say "fuck it" and join us in whatever new, weird thing we decide to obsess with at the time...
I got asked on a date. It's not really about that though, because it's not supposed to happen until sometime next week, and it's a stranger-kid who approached me in a really cute way (asked me to sign a petition, I debated the ethics of such a cause for no good reason other than I'm a pain in the ass, we divulged in witty banter, he followed me on a skateboard and told me I was cute, always a plus), so let's face it, it's probably not going to happen.
But the point is, maybe I can move on and realize there are plenty of fish in the sea. Or squids rather. "There are plenty of cephalopods in the sea." Take that, Lao Tzu.
Peace, love, and squids.