So, lately, I've been reading a lot. A lot for me, anyway.

After finishing A Dance with Dragons, I read World War Z, Fahrenheit 451, We Have Always Lived in the Castle, The Time Machine, and What Dreams May Come. Now I'm reading Akira.

Hurray for escapism! Uh... Hmm, nope. Don't feel like writing any more than that. Reading is fun, kids.

Sometimes I get nostalgic about the damnedest things. One could say, "Oh, that's the Pisces in you," or, "You're just sentimental."

But it's nothing like that, at all.

There are people who live in the past. There are people who relive their "glory days" like they'll never shine quite like they did in high school.


High school? Are you fucking kidding me? You and I might balk at that... but that doesn't mean it isn't true for some people.

Well, I'm not one of them. I like to think that the best time of my life has yet to happen. No, when I get nostalgic about high school, I'm thinking about how wonderful it was to be naive. How thoughtless flirtations could brighten the day. Or how every day had the potential to be amazing or undoubtedly lame.


I don't get nostalgic about that crap often. I just scanned a ton of old photos from high school and a few years later. Found several photos of Zillah when he was a kitten. Laughed at Bry's many sneers.

In other news, my vacation zooms by... and I've done nothing but... well, nothing. Glorious nothing. No homework. No work work. Lovely, yes?

Just a few weeks of school left. I've already enrolled for the next semester. I pray it isn't as time consuming as this one has been.

I hate working full time and going to school.... And I hate feeling like it isn't going to lead up to anything.

I had the weirdest fucking string of dreams over night. I can't remember the order, because some of them spilled into each other. The earliest one I am starting to forget... There was something of a civilization-ending panic. It was night time. In one part, I was in the parking lot at work looking for people. In another, I was in some cabin or cottage with a few other people. Teenage Justin W. was there. Link from work was there. The other people were in and out of the cottage, so I couldn't make out their faces.

The second dream (which had something to do with the first) had this group inspecting me to see if I were chosen to come with them. We marched through the snow toward some far off castle. It was mostly women. There was a deep creek, and a little girl pointed out a fish. She wanted to catch one, and someone pointed out to her that there were many fish--many bigger fish. There were giant oceanic fish. It was like a salt-water aquarium. I blurted out, "This is salt water!" And some of the group just nodded knowingly, at which point I knew that magic was involved.

The last dream was in the city. I had been selected (maybe from the last dream) to be part of a hidden operation through a hidden concrete door. I'm not sure what happened... if I were a spy from the start or not. I was going further in, down hallways, weird locker room chambers. There were weapons in most compartments. I picked up a shotgun. When someone questioned me about where I was going, I just made up an excuse. Then, I waited for them to pass me and shot them in the back. The force of the gun made me stumble and the gun swung away and nearly broke against some piping. All the rooms were soundproofed and had airlocks. This gigantic, blonde man started walking into the room. He asked me if we (as in all of us in this hidden place) were supposed to be going somewhere. I told him we were going to the surface for something or other. He started walking off to the hallways I had just come through. As I watched him, he saw the dead body and slowly turned around toward me. He looked like the blonde guy from Spartacus: Blood and Sand. He said something like, "Oh, it's on now," and I began to freak out that the gun wasn't going to work, but I knew I had one shell left. I aimed, pulled the trigger, and he took a few steps toward me. I could see that I had shot him in the neck. He stumbled forward and fell flat on his face. I hadn't wanted to kill him. I recall touching the back of his head and saying, "You can go to heaven now."

I don't recall anything after that.

When I woke up, I just got this strange feeling of sexually-charged world domination schemes. There were a lot more details that have already faded. At one point, someone was in my lap proclaiming their need to rip my panties off. I'm not sure if this was in the first or second dream.

As I went to sleep last night, I had a pretty lucid meditation on remembering my grandmother's house. I was recalling each room and each piece of furniture. It was so vivid. No idea what brought that on.

Do you know anyone who never accepts responsibility for anything negative that happens to them, to people around them, or to you? What's that called, again? Projecting, I think.

I could give enough examples to fill a Dead Sea Scroll, but I won't. It's a very childish thing to do. I mean, we all kick the rock that tripped us, but we know the rock didn't grow legs and sneak up in front of our toe. HAH! TAKE THAT, HUMAN!

It irks me when someone blames everyone else for their problems. We all have problems. The majority of them are preventable mistakes. Stupid, little things which are forgotten a week later. Why not accept the things that are your own dumb self's fault and move on?

It gets worse. Lying and blaming go hand in hand. If lying comes so easy to them, you can't help but wonder what else they lie about.

I'm no saint. I understand the urge. I'm not the wise man on the mountain, either. Wanting to defend the fragile ego is natural, I know. But does it really feel better to pass blame on constantly? Does it slough the shit of who you are off as though you're a sparkling human being underneath? I think it makes you that much emptier.

Feh. I'm going to watch Cashback and call it a night.

This is a new year. I can't believe I survived another mediocre, little increment of my life. What wonders will the new year hold? More feeling like a caged bird?

Ooh ohh! I know... Spineless bending to companionship I don't want!

An hour has passed since I started writing. I had these really angst-ridden thoughts to tap out on the keys, but I can't bring myself to. I'm far beyond pathetic bastard stage. I'm teetering on the brink of an incredible loss of words. That's it. I censor myself, anyway. Today, I woke up, I looked around, and I thought, "Where am I?" This is not my beautiful wife!

I have small ambitions. They're small, but they are mine. He has none. I save money. He does not. I strive for change (languishing and wallowing in my own funk here and there, but striving nonetheless). He does not. He once said he did not believe in monogamy. It negates every "I love you." He also said he doesn't believe in marriage. At least I dodged that bullet.

I believe in marriage. Not some state and church sanctioned bullshit that usually ends with someone cheating on the other, split families, and irreconcilable differences. No, no. Something more than a sitcom relationship.

But, anyway, I'm so curious what goes through a person like that's skull.

Another hour passed. I did things. Watching Louis CK now. YAY Freckles!

Maybe I'll think about this blooming onion tomorrow.