Alone on the hill [day 2]

New favorite animal: the fox. Especially on the trampoline.
Did things with yarn that Jake may find unpleasant.
Everything is going very well, except my inability to sleep.

Man, that guy really got eaten by a bear. Fuck.

The fish are alive.

Alone on the hill [Day 1]

First day alone. Bid farewell to Jake and his family.
Attempted to make breakfast. Failed miserably. Bought bagels without realizing I had no toaster; tried to broil them in the oven. Clothes smell of smoke and soot now. Need to clean out the oven.

Cleaning up room. Thinking of compiling a list of well-used archetypes for cartoon plots.

...

ruined

The dead sheep of Kansas

It must be a strange sensation to be on fire.

Slept very oddly last night. Kept waking up. Saw the sunrise. It was extremely red and amazing.

Now I'm vibratory. Shut up, you gasping tongue! Put those fingers to work finding pants for today.

Happiness

Dark Side of The Moon is a pretty fucking good album.
There are bones in your hand!

Bathroom Poem

I found this written in the tiniest possible handwriting, in the grouting between two tiles above a urinal.

As the pattern becomes more intricate and subtle, being swept along is no longer enough.


What does this mean?

Last night

Couldn't sleep last night. Drew portraits with my teeth (and a pen, of course).
Ink bled all over my hand, creating amazing rorschach tests for me to analyze.

Sentence Fragement: "Clearly there's a strong correlation between everything that exists, ...and your dad."

Book Idea: "The life and times of a Piss Demon"

Realization: "Dead" is not necessarily "Dead." There are many shades of dead. I realized this as I saw, for the ten-millionth time, the dead husk of a cockroach on my way to the bathroom. We killed that thing a month ago, but it's still there, and it just looks like it's sleeping. I don't know much about cockroaches. Possibly, this is a survival adaptation.

Compare this to a road-killed squirrel with all the skin on its face rotted off and most of its bones sticking out. That's pretty fucking dead. Can you begin to see how there is a relative difference between the amounts of dead assigned to these two organisms?

This kind of thing is important.

Strange Idea: If humans were just programs, or tools, in a computer- or alien-created matrix, our creators might have a Wikipedia entry something like this:

Human Being
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

A human being is a common brute-force algorithm particularly useful for de-tangling Christmas lights.

Sleep thoughts

Ideas for bad products

- Wolf Powder
- Spatula Incense ("The delicious smell of spatulas in your home or car!")
- Sugar frosted scapulae
- Owl Manure
- Lung Chimneys ("It's a chimney for your lung!")
- Scro' paste (made of, not for)
- Nesting Spray
- Claw-dads (crustacean-based pastries)
- Multi-'Tache (the mustache-based cereal additive)

My roommate woke me up to tell me my alarm was going off. I took this as a sign that my alarm clock (which was a special type of noise-producing plant) needed to be watered. I poured some water on it, and fell back asleep.
I woke up minutes later with this phrase in my head: "Yes, I'd say that paints a fairly accurate portrait of my tortoise-consumption."

Ruiner

I have lost sight of the goal.
I have strayed from the path.

"Reality" attempts symbolism: inability to express thoughts (the keyboard is malfunctioning).
Happiness attained through rigorous and well-learned use of legal and prescribed drugs.
[Inducing Nostalgia.]

I tread on my dreams.

corpse liquid

Talked to Brendan today. Still working in that bank.
(Why is it always so hot in here?)

He's doing some Addams family dress-up thing there, just to see some cute girl in pig-tails. Wednesday's probably my favorite female character in any movie ever. Now I have some Christina Ricci obsession.

Sanity...slipping away...
When did I wake up today? Is it really 1:24am? Fuck....

Why am I typing this? I think it has something to do with that coffee video I was making. I wanted to videotape my coffee obsession. The coffee-preparations always remind me of the recurring scene in that Aranofsky drug movie. What the hell was that called?

Anyways, the movie just degraded into a closeup of a stuffed crow I have on my desk. We'll see how that goes. And why can't I type some letters capitalized? Idea: never again spill tea on keyboard.

And something about the postal service. Wax seals. Those were pretty great.

The death of happiness

Oh yeaaaaaaaah. Now I remember why I was so stressed out last semester. It's because college is hard. Especially when you have ADHD, and are unable to grasp time-management or proper study habits.

Programming Language assignment is due at midnight tonight. I have no idea how to do it. Annndddd....it's worth 20% of my entire grade. Pretty awesome.

I'm here in the library, consuming terrifying amounts of caffeine and Ritalin, trying to jump-start my brain into action. I have an exam tomorrow, and I'm supposed to be up by 8am for some silly meeting.

Made a neat little gadget for the GZ website today. It allows you to save messages to the front page (via a Java Applet and some PHP script). I'm trying to replace the text functionality with a "white-board"-like image thing. I have to somehow convert images to strings to do this. Actually, that was easy. But for some reason, when the strings came back from the server, they were terribly confuzzled. (Perhaps the "wb" George put in there, the "write binary," caused the problems....) Well, I'll figure it out.

And now I must continue to do....things....

Penises

Awoke this morning to the phrase: "Hey Wallace. My grandparents are coming over. I'm gonna throw this penis into your room. Okay?"


I agreed and went back to sleep for five minutes. Upon awakening, I couldn't decide whether that exchange had really happened. A few minutes later, Connor's grandparents showed up. I looked around the room, and sure enough, there was a giant cardboard penis on my side of the room, hidden behind a curtain.

I also had this phrase in my mind, and had to write it down (on a bank envelope): "I embarked upon the quest of finally turning my penis into an elephant."

Should probably wash my towels. A collared shirt makes a poor substitute.

Claw-dads

Claw-dads = a very bad, mollusk-like pastry.

Sleeping problems. Had vivid conversations with George all night in my sleep. Spent a lot of time working out how to fix the graffiti website widget I made. Sleep is a bad time for programming.

Keep missing classes. Why can't I sleep normally?
Where am I?

Perpetually cleaning room.
Must study.

(How I love you, coffee)

Sept 17, 2007

Mild sleep deprivation.

Got to thinking about horses with extremely long, skinny arms. They'd wear suits and fumble about with their teacups, trying to pick them up with their hooves. Could I perhaps turn this into a film? (Shredadactyl would appreciate it, I know.) That's when I decided to leave class and take a shower.

On my way home I came upon a puppy and her eccentric owner. We talked (or rather, she informed me) of the dangers of pine cones.

I wear slippers more often than I wear shoes.
I should get all-weather slippers.