Tuesday, September 13, 2005

And if I bleed, I bleed...

I always find it amusing when people who I don't know say that they're sorry to me and that they do what the "gods" inspire them to do. Had I been in a better mood, I might have been fine with it. Ok, not really, but whatever, you know what I mean. For now, I'm in an even worse mood than I had been in before, which is probably saying something seeing as how I've been in a fairly bad mood all morning. There was nothing wrong with class. In fact, class was good. The rest of the morning, well, I won't comment on it. I've been writing all morning. After several weeks of not being able to write anything, I can't seem to stop. That may or may not be a good thing, it may or may not be a bad thing. Frankly, in my current state of mind, I really don't care either way. Part of me thinks that I should, but generally speaking, I really just don't care. I was sick of having writer's block and now that it's gone, I don't care what I write, I just want to write and write some more.
So what did I end up writing about? Whatever came to mind really. I wrote about random shit that I'd been feeling as of late. I wrote about professors, good and bad, about what is good about them, and what was bad. In fact, I can safely say that there have been very few professors where I actually enjoy their class and teaching style. Mostly because relevance of material matters to me. I don't' care about material that has no concern relating to the course. A little bit is ok, too much puts me to sleep in class. Hour and a half lectures with about an hour and a half worth of material is fun at 10am when you're fighting off the tail effects of a cold/flu. It's almost gone anyways, atleast that's what it feels like. I finished "Black Sheep" on Sunday. 2 more still in progress right now, but I need to take a little bit of a break between songs else they become melded into a single entity. Writing in here, writing in my book at the same time. I seem to be of a two-tracked mind right now, writing and writing.
Damnit, I hate accidentally posting before I finish the post. Oh well. It happens on occasion, nothing much I can do about it short of..well, not doing it in the near future. I wrote a random blurb on a word today. That was the first time I had done that in a long time. Why did I write a random blurb on a word? Because the word popped into mind as I was writing something else. What was the word? Hodge Podge. I won't really reiterate what I wrote in my notepad here because that takes a bit of meaning out of writing it down in my notepad in the first place. Suffice to say, the word annoys me to an extent, but it's still a useful word when used on occasion and where appropriate. Personally, I prefer the word plethora but another nicely situational word, not appropriate to every situation. For example, when one is talking to one not as literate as one's self, words such as plethora are not as useful as, say, collection. The meaning is not quite the same, but it gets the point across easier without them asking what said word means.
Have I mentioned how much I hate people? Yes. People. Slow people in particular. They seem to think that just because they don't have anywhere to be in a hurry, the rest of the world must slow down for them. I don't think much about those people, I'd rather get to where I have to be faster so I have time to relax a bit before whatever it is that I'm suposed to be doing. Or I would rather be some place sooner than later, either way. The point is that slow people are annoying. In fact, they're very annoying. Especially the ones who meander all over the place and make it impossible to pass without running through a glass window and while it could be fun to do that, I feel no need to make a spectacle out of trying to pass someone on the street or in the foyer of a building. People need to know where they are going before trying to get there so that they don't stand in the middle of a crowded hallway getting in other people's way.
Shadows. Shadows are so much fun. They're everywhere, yet not all the same time. Their true identities always hidden, always unknown to the beings that watch them with unknowing eyes, taking the darkness at face value rather than trying to see deeper into it. To walk with the shadows, shrouded by that which they cast, their undying presence. They cross into a realm where they aren't appreciated, aren't noticed, which is exactly how they like it. They remain unnoticed, unloved, uncared for, but they care not about any of that. They exist just like animals do, they exist to survive. Creeping away when they need to, staying when it's safe. They know when to be, and when not to. Their existence goes by unwatched by mortal eyes. I've always loved watching the shadows, and the things that stir under the cover of night. Few see the chaos under the still of night. In fact, there's an imp sitting on my shoulder reading what I'm typing right now. It's quite observant of things actually. I initially typed he, but it felt need to correct me into referring to it as an "it". It matters to it, apparently.
The ramblings of the insane. The ramblings of the mind. Oh how it relates to each other. But that depends. Some people lack the ability to ramble on about random things that make no sense to people. In fact, rambling about random things that make no sense to anyone is rather fun. I've found that some of the times I enjoy life most are those times when I'm rambling about nothing in particular. Just rambling for the sake of rambling. Be it about chairs, the metaphysical, something that matters, or nothing at all. Just rambling. But I don't ramble often. In fact, I'm often very quiet. Although I've done a lot better with talking than I was say...two years ago. The things that happen. We are shaped by our past, and our present. The future is undetermined.
I wish I could relax. Relaxing would be nice. In fact, it is probably very much needed. I have not been able to relax in quite some time. Well, that is not entirely true. I do relax every so often, but it's not as frequent as I probably need to. However, that is not the point. Still working out the administrative work down here at the university. As of now, I still do not have a schedule or are technically registered in any courses. I've been attending them, which probably doesn't mean a whole lot if I can't get the courses I want to get reinstated. Bastards. Get my fucking courses registered already. My hands are getting cold and I should probably eat soon. I've been writing randomly and rambling for the past hour and a half, and seeing as how I didn't eat breakfast, I should most definitely eat lunch. I feel like something healthy. No fast food today it would seem. Maybe I'll go home and make something instead. I could do that, or I could stay down here and go to a restaurant, but I don't really want to waste money on food right now when I don't need to. On the other hand, I am hungry. The question now becomes whether or not I can wait before putting something into my stomach.
We got some new cold/flu medication, took a bit of that this morning. They say nondrowsy, but I never really trust them when they say that. I tend to assume that it will make me drowsy and if it doesn't, great. Hey, either way, between the dimetap and the stuff I had this morning, the stuffy and runny nose is going away faster. Cough is still there, but not as frequent and it'll go away in time.
Downloaded "Missing" on Sunday as well, ok song I suppose, well, it's not bad, just a tad on the slower side. That doesn't make it bad, just different than what I normally listen to. Damned cough. There it goes again. Oh well. Hopefully it will pass before too long. What was it that I was wring about again? Does it matter? Not really. I'm writing about anything that pops into mind for me to say and write. These computer labs are a tad on the chilly side. That's why I always preferred the cafe, but I can't get wireless unless I have a schedule and can get my card renewed. Damned universities. Too many layers and tapes to go through to get something simple done.
Who even reads what I ramble about? Does it really matter to anyone? Does it matter what I think, what I see, what I feel? Or am I just talking to myself and no one will ever read what I write or care about what I have to say? Maybe one day I'll be able to look back on what I've written and see what life was like now and compare to how different it'd be then. Or maybe I'll have faded away into nothing before then, lost to the shadows, not sought after or remembered. Will someone stare up into nothing and ask isn't something missing?



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