Disjointed, Random i.e. Thoughts
One of the dreams I had last night involved me lacing up my boots. And the string broke. I remember being really bummed out about it and for some reason, after I awoke, I had a feeling that I had had a dream like that before.
In the subject of dreams, I have recurring dreams about houses. Most often, there a large houses, mansions if you will, almost always empty of inhabitants yet fully furnished, almost over furnished.I have been plagued by such dreams since I was a teenager and I never could make heads or tails of them. I find that the older I get, the exterior and especially the interior of said houses grow increasingly sinister and creepy though it's more a feeling than anything else.
Another dream I had last night involved being a large house, the atmosphere dark as well as the interior and the furniture inside. My mother and I were trying to reach something on a very high shelf and she was stacking religious books on a chair for me to stand on. The whole time I just remembering that I wanted to be as far away from this house as possible. Oddly enough, the number 666 came up.
A nice segue way: Boston House of Pizza makes the BEST spinach pies on the fucking PLANET. Never mind the fact that I haven't been to every pizza place on the planet; I don't care. A spinach pie with cheese and extra mushrooms from Boston House is fucking amazing, so much so that I treated myself to one yesterday. Yum times a billion.
Once again, I drove around aimlessly in the school parking lot, looking for a spot, finally finding one in row G. I was on the phone with Danny and so while I unplugged my iPod, I forgot to bring it with me. I didn't realize I didn't have it with me until after class when I was getting ready to head down to the computer lab. Leaving my bag in Frau's class, I walked all the way to my fucking car in the freezing (literally) rain to get my damn iPod. Separation anxiety, much? While getting my iPod, I decided to try and find a spot closer up and managed to get one a whopping to rows up from where I had originally parked. Pfft. I power walked back to school and as I sit here and type, my legs are thinking awful thoughts about me.
While on the subject of the weather. Cold, wet, and freezing rain. Oh, and can't forget the lovely shade of overcast. My father is on a golf trip in Florida with some friends and I am convinced that he and my sister (who lives in Arizona) are laughing at me as they baked in the sun and I freeze me ass off.
To add further to the overall bleh of the day, the first song that came on my iPod shuffle was "Melancholy and the Infinite Sadness". I find it to be a beautiful song, one that I tried to teach myself to play on the piano back in high school. However, as the title suggests, it's an incredibly sad sounding song. All the more appropriate for the day.
On the way to school, I was sorta lost in my mind, thinking about this and that. It could've been the song I was currently playing that got me really thinking, I don't know. But get this:
We are born and we grow up. Picture life as a walking trip. You start out in a straight line that gradually twists and turns and curves and branches out into different directions. All along the way, you soak up fragments of the world, from every possible source. They become a part of you and you process them and project them back out again. You are affected by people you meet, people you've never met, people you love, people you hate. You are influenced, affected, shaped, molded by everyone and everything you come in contact with. Then one day, perhaps nowhere near the end of your life, or perhaps on your deathbed, you look back for whatever reason and you become aware of all that you have taken into you, all that you have been affected by in your life, by people, places, and things. The influences, the experiences, the feelings, the emotions. Whether you like it or not, EVERYTHING leaves some sort of indelible print on your person, emotionally, physically, spiritually, mentally.
And you're simply not the same and never will be.
"It is the business of the future to be dangerous..."
~N
In the subject of dreams, I have recurring dreams about houses. Most often, there a large houses, mansions if you will, almost always empty of inhabitants yet fully furnished, almost over furnished.I have been plagued by such dreams since I was a teenager and I never could make heads or tails of them. I find that the older I get, the exterior and especially the interior of said houses grow increasingly sinister and creepy though it's more a feeling than anything else.
Another dream I had last night involved being a large house, the atmosphere dark as well as the interior and the furniture inside. My mother and I were trying to reach something on a very high shelf and she was stacking religious books on a chair for me to stand on. The whole time I just remembering that I wanted to be as far away from this house as possible. Oddly enough, the number 666 came up.
A nice segue way: Boston House of Pizza makes the BEST spinach pies on the fucking PLANET. Never mind the fact that I haven't been to every pizza place on the planet; I don't care. A spinach pie with cheese and extra mushrooms from Boston House is fucking amazing, so much so that I treated myself to one yesterday. Yum times a billion.
Once again, I drove around aimlessly in the school parking lot, looking for a spot, finally finding one in row G. I was on the phone with Danny and so while I unplugged my iPod, I forgot to bring it with me. I didn't realize I didn't have it with me until after class when I was getting ready to head down to the computer lab. Leaving my bag in Frau's class, I walked all the way to my fucking car in the freezing (literally) rain to get my damn iPod. Separation anxiety, much? While getting my iPod, I decided to try and find a spot closer up and managed to get one a whopping to rows up from where I had originally parked. Pfft. I power walked back to school and as I sit here and type, my legs are thinking awful thoughts about me.
While on the subject of the weather. Cold, wet, and freezing rain. Oh, and can't forget the lovely shade of overcast. My father is on a golf trip in Florida with some friends and I am convinced that he and my sister (who lives in Arizona) are laughing at me as they baked in the sun and I freeze me ass off.
To add further to the overall bleh of the day, the first song that came on my iPod shuffle was "Melancholy and the Infinite Sadness". I find it to be a beautiful song, one that I tried to teach myself to play on the piano back in high school. However, as the title suggests, it's an incredibly sad sounding song. All the more appropriate for the day.
On the way to school, I was sorta lost in my mind, thinking about this and that. It could've been the song I was currently playing that got me really thinking, I don't know. But get this:
We are born and we grow up. Picture life as a walking trip. You start out in a straight line that gradually twists and turns and curves and branches out into different directions. All along the way, you soak up fragments of the world, from every possible source. They become a part of you and you process them and project them back out again. You are affected by people you meet, people you've never met, people you love, people you hate. You are influenced, affected, shaped, molded by everyone and everything you come in contact with. Then one day, perhaps nowhere near the end of your life, or perhaps on your deathbed, you look back for whatever reason and you become aware of all that you have taken into you, all that you have been affected by in your life, by people, places, and things. The influences, the experiences, the feelings, the emotions. Whether you like it or not, EVERYTHING leaves some sort of indelible print on your person, emotionally, physically, spiritually, mentally.
And you're simply not the same and never will be.
"It is the business of the future to be dangerous..."
~N