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| I just had this dream while napping--
I was friends with this kid who sort of looked like buckwheat, I was probably younger like him, and we had adventures but I forgot most of them. I remember the end, we met up on the streets and he complained about his day, but all the while I got a hold of this thing that I can only remember to describe as an uncurled paper clip which I drug through things. Eventually it began cutting through things, like the pavement and a large tree. I felt bad for cutting the large tree. I was so focused ("into") the powers of my find that I didn't realize that buckwheat (who, by the end of the dream was a small asian boy) had been kidnapped. He was driven awy in a black car that I would imagine the president would drive. The streets were snowy and it was twilight in Lincoln Park. His voice whispered something like "I will miss you, you are blessed" or something, displayed in subtitles as well.
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| Here's a post from about a year ago today. I like it!!
Today, three once Robben Island prisoners who served time in
South Africa with Nelson Mandella visted out school for a reason
unbeknownst to me. A crew came along and filmed for their
documentary. They sang and gave us information about their lives
verbally which was extremely hard to understand, if not, for which was
89% of the time, impossible. One story I did catch, though, was: "I would then form relationships with the ants and the cockroaches in my lonliness." Also, they sang a cute little song to the tune of "Daylight Come and I Wanna Go Home..."
They took Mandella
And they gave us puppets...
I carry a bazooka
And an automatica. There
were three men, all very different looking, and my favorite was the
shortest and stoutest. The point is, at the end of the day, I was all
like, "WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK." Thank you.
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| Watching The View has become a method of bonding for my new, polar opposite roommate and I. This morning, the death of Heath Ledger (which is speculated to have been suicide) was the story with which they opened. The women wanted to know if people thought that to be a good actor, one had to be angste and troubled. Whoopi was then asked, directly, if she was ever troubled. She joked about it for a few seconds, but then confessed that she was, in fact, troubled at one point, and thought about killing herself. Wait, what?
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| Some things I've been meaning to write about and therefore remember for a long time until Xanga is done away with, which I pray is never, because I'll lose so much, and the task of copying and pasting all of my entries to a word document seems VERY daunting...
The other night it was semi-late, I guess, and I was walking briskly because it was so cold, and this portly young woman (I don't know if she was a student or a mentally handicapped person) could probably hear my brisk steps. And at one point, when I was about to pass her, she stopped, and very obviously turned to see who I was. It was really strange to me, in that, mainly, I guess, I would not do that. No matter how frightening the steps behind me sounded... case in point: this man was running behind me the other night, and I passed him off as an evening jogger, and that's what he was.
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| What a week! Ever since my mirror broke the other day, things have been so strange. And it was just before I decided not to believe in superstitions. My macbook fell off of my bed and crashed, and after taking it to the apple store I was told that the hard drive was completely gone. My new roomate moved in yesterday, and after going downstairs to use a computer, I came back up to my room only to find it locked. And then, today, I put my clothes in two washers which sounded like death. They broke with my clothes in them. Now, I'm waiting to see what happens with that. All of this on top of the fact that I'm unsure whether or not I'm supposed to be writing a paper for Intro. When I sent an email asking the teacher what I should do regarding the paper, she simply replied "lets keep moving fwd." ? What is my life? | | |
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