We all live in a yellow submarine
I wonder what kind of song this would be without the context of the whole movie. Not to say I don't absolutely love the movie to teeny shreds; I most certainly do. But the thought struck me as the song popped up. Go figure.
Well, I can't remember the last post I did at 1 in the morning. Or, for that matter, the last THING I did at 1 in the morning beyond (hopefully) sleeping and (ideally) dreaming. Which reminds me, I haven't remembered my dreams in a long, long while ... excluding a nap that I took this afternoon, of which I remembered a good deal! ^^v Of course, most of it all escapes me now ... but then again ... and again ... and now I'm rambling.
I was told today that I think very abstractly. I take some pride in that; I enjoy thinking and acting differently from others. Everyone has a hobby, and mine is "being different." To tell the truth, I was told this yesterday nigh, since it's 1 in the morning and I guess I should explain that I'm purposefully staying up all night to watch the sunrise. The watching of the sunrise isn't for anything in particular; it's just there for its own purpose. But this post has a more definite purpose: I should have made a post a while ago, and only now have gotten around to it. In a way, it's a good thing I'm doing this post while I can't be distracted by other things. For example, I cannot play computer games at this hour, for fear of waking up others (and since the only games I'd want to play are in my brother's room). Also, I cannot read books right now, because I'm positive my eyes will wear themselves out quickly and I'll have no reserves for tomorrow. Nope; I'm gonna stay semi-vegitative as I wait for dawn, and then I'll take a shower to wake me out of my stupor, followed by a (hopefully) brief day at school, and (ideally) ending with a giant-crash-nap.
Now that it's summer, I wonder how long I'll have to wait for the sun to rise. That, and I seriously wonder what I'm going to do. On a different note, it's also a pity that I know how bad it is to Not get a good night's sleep. Oh, well, what the hell, as McWatt would say.
Which reminds me: I finished Catch-22 today. Talk about a rollercoast ride. That book is a seriously complex masterpiece, and I love it to bloody death. It's so complex, it makes me want to reread Crime and Punishment, to make sure I didn't miss anything. That, and Choke; I think that some dire secret of Chuck Palahniuk's "Choke" was in my clutches, and then escaped at the last second.
For my poetry presentation which is theoretically today, but will honestly be on Monday or something, was momentarily going to be a presentation of "Demain, dès l'aube," by Victor Hugo, with an impromptu translation by Me. This changed quickly to a minor decision between a lovely recitation of Wordsworth's "Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802" to the sound of "A Gentle Dissolve" in the background, that, or my reciting and explaining "Pilate's Dream" and then actually singing it later. This was all dumped when my father discovered that Donald Hall's children's book "Ox-Cart Man" actually used to be a poem, which I scrounged up from the New Yorker and wrote a quick presentation for. Which is to say, I still need to find what to do for my presentation. Maybe some food? Maybe some music? Or maybe something creative, that hasn't been used before.
Well, sitting and typing won't solve my problems for the next 5 or so hours, and I should rest my fingers and eyes and bit. This is Dan Rather ... signing off ...
Well, I can't remember the last post I did at 1 in the morning. Or, for that matter, the last THING I did at 1 in the morning beyond (hopefully) sleeping and (ideally) dreaming. Which reminds me, I haven't remembered my dreams in a long, long while ... excluding a nap that I took this afternoon, of which I remembered a good deal! ^^v Of course, most of it all escapes me now ... but then again ... and again ... and now I'm rambling.
I was told today that I think very abstractly. I take some pride in that; I enjoy thinking and acting differently from others. Everyone has a hobby, and mine is "being different." To tell the truth, I was told this yesterday nigh, since it's 1 in the morning and I guess I should explain that I'm purposefully staying up all night to watch the sunrise. The watching of the sunrise isn't for anything in particular; it's just there for its own purpose. But this post has a more definite purpose: I should have made a post a while ago, and only now have gotten around to it. In a way, it's a good thing I'm doing this post while I can't be distracted by other things. For example, I cannot play computer games at this hour, for fear of waking up others (and since the only games I'd want to play are in my brother's room). Also, I cannot read books right now, because I'm positive my eyes will wear themselves out quickly and I'll have no reserves for tomorrow. Nope; I'm gonna stay semi-vegitative as I wait for dawn, and then I'll take a shower to wake me out of my stupor, followed by a (hopefully) brief day at school, and (ideally) ending with a giant-crash-nap.
Now that it's summer, I wonder how long I'll have to wait for the sun to rise. That, and I seriously wonder what I'm going to do. On a different note, it's also a pity that I know how bad it is to Not get a good night's sleep. Oh, well, what the hell, as McWatt would say.
Which reminds me: I finished Catch-22 today. Talk about a rollercoast ride. That book is a seriously complex masterpiece, and I love it to bloody death. It's so complex, it makes me want to reread Crime and Punishment, to make sure I didn't miss anything. That, and Choke; I think that some dire secret of Chuck Palahniuk's "Choke" was in my clutches, and then escaped at the last second.
For my poetry presentation which is theoretically today, but will honestly be on Monday or something, was momentarily going to be a presentation of "Demain, dès l'aube," by Victor Hugo, with an impromptu translation by Me. This changed quickly to a minor decision between a lovely recitation of Wordsworth's "Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802" to the sound of "A Gentle Dissolve" in the background, that, or my reciting and explaining "Pilate's Dream" and then actually singing it later. This was all dumped when my father discovered that Donald Hall's children's book "Ox-Cart Man" actually used to be a poem, which I scrounged up from the New Yorker and wrote a quick presentation for. Which is to say, I still need to find what to do for my presentation. Maybe some food? Maybe some music? Or maybe something creative, that hasn't been used before.
Well, sitting and typing won't solve my problems for the next 5 or so hours, and I should rest my fingers and eyes and bit. This is Dan Rather ... signing off ...