I have been writing much lately, yes? And I don't really have anything to write about; it just feels good to do so.
More and more I wonder what I have gotten myself into. I think I have stepped in some symbolic gum, and I am tracking it wherever I walk.
I only have one interest, and my interest has many interests. But I am not the type to chase after butterflies. A butterfly happened to land in my hand, but it has taken off again to pursue sweeter things. Or so it seems. And isn't it cute of me to be jealous? As if I have a right to be?
On another note, I smile and nod when I see a friend fall in love or think they've fallen in love. If only I could be that fickle. No, I pretty much latch on for life, and that's it. I'll never believe there is someone out there for me... some ideal. This romantic does not believe in that fates intertwined crap. Yet I do not believe in wandering from person to person, trial and error, marriage and divorce. And perfection is a load of BS, as well, I'm afraid. I would settle for happiness. Or trust.
Oh, what I would do for trust.
What am I babbling about?
Less than a year ago, I would have told you that I am not going to fall in love. Well, sue me; it happened, anyway. There, I had the experience-- the world can stop preaching to me now.
*puts on Delerium, Semantic Spaces*
If people aren't telling me to fall in love, they're telling me to get laid. Now, I can say, "Fuck off" more emphatically than I did before.
We each have out own version of what is right for us. I can't stand it when people force their will on others. And "do unto others as you want done unto you" is a loaded statement, too. What if one guy wants to be stuck with a hot poker, so he sticks people with a hot poker? Um... nevermind.
I just want to be left alone, so I leave people alone. It doesn't work. Individual needs are rarely met.
And that is all the gospel for this evening.
5:30 p.m.
currently: 
look at me! i am evil!
*listening to Delerium, Poem*
Well, I'm not really evil. But wouldn't things be more exciting if I were? Unfortunately, I am one of those people that never does anything to harm others. This does not mean that I don't think about it. Chances are, I'm thinking about it about as often as males think about sex. Okay, maybe not that often. I really don't know where I was going with this thought, so SPLAT.
I have nothing better to do right now than write, which is bad for you because everything I write is like poison ivy to the reader. May my insipid words haunt you 'til the end of your days. *cackle*
You really are a nut job, you know?
Yeah, I know. =P
Morg is lying on my bed belly-side up. It's quite cute, I assure you. The AC is broken, so the poor giant hairball is boiling in her own skin.
I still think boobies is a funny word. I would tell you to put "boobies" on my headstone, but I refuse to be buried. Barbeque me, baby! As Jesus once said, "Eat me." I'm paraphrasing.
There goes an ant. I think he's lost. He just went into one of my combat boots. Um...
Why do I have combat boots? It's not as if I'm going into combat any time soon. I like boots.
I was told that you can make lemonade out of ants.
Ah, sweet nicotine.
Blah... What will I do tonight? Hmm... there is the possibility of going to the gym, but then what? Meow.
In a while, Rask may be visiting a friend for a week or so. I wish I knew when, for I would vacate as well. I need to get away. I keep writing that.... murr. One of these days, I'll do it.
I was thinking about seeing the Natural Bridge again. I haven't been there in, hmm, 16 years or so.
Enough vapid chatter for now.
