I needed a separation.

No more expectations.

I had to let the hate of this fill me.

Cause yeah, my blog and I...it's "Love me or hate me that is the question. If you love me then 'thank you'. If you hate me then 'fuck you'"~ Lady Sovereign.

Anyhoo back to what passed through my mind.

So has anyone ever written about this or thought about this? What is a vampire's favorite time of the month? Since they drink blood wouldn't they love it when it's a woman's time of the month to menstruate? It's like a blood fountain between a women's legs.

Wouldn't women make great barbarians? One week a month they get fanatic off of PMS. No man can stand in your way when you're on a hormone charged killing rampage.

Outside it is beautiful but I'm trapped in here hunched over a computer, back aching like some dwarf forgot to remove his axe when he put it between my shoulder blades.

Sometimes I just want to dance amazing. Glide and flow across the floor like Chris Brown. I just want to stop and bust it out because Kiss Kiss is an awesome song and the sun is shining so amazing over the hills and on the leaves and the only thing I could possibly do is STOP and worship it. So I could just move my body in all the ways I dreampt and rock with the happy groove in my heart and my body. Who cares how goofy I look? I am praising the moment.

My dream last night sucked. Ray and my mom ganged up on me. Ray wanted to talk to me. The phone rang. He was actually calling. I felt freakin' pinned because next thing his car was pulling up in front of my house just like it used to all those every-other weekends. I wanted to scream. So I ran away. I hitched a ride with some random person out my back door and ended up on a side street of mainstreet in this green tile fronted shop.
I went inside just to check it out and the first room had towering shelves of beautiful old books all the way up to the domed ceiling. I checked out the old fashioned counter and say some really cool D&D toys and dragons and dwarves in packages like you find the really cool toys in Wal-Mart. The store felt and looked like an antique shop with that dingy old dusty smell and old people with short white curled hair and old hats walking around critiquing items. The walls were dark, windows dirty and covered by old lace curtains. The wood was creaky, halls winding and weird. I wandered through and ended up in a room that had dingy turquoise walls and matching rug with a high ceiling. I was thrown, captured. Artifacts hung all around, Egyptian in feel the dream told me, mixed in with more modern old things, fine lace and linen shirts, veily materials, brilliant gold helmets and scale mail, leather straps to hold it together, all of the items displayed high on the walls. I was drawn to a pile of scarves knit in different colors, irregular width stripes on them, orange, black white was one. I was drawn to one that pale green and white, soft and knit, would have matched my Columbia coat. I had the money but no, I couldn't, had to go.
Had to wake up, didn't I?
My dreams always produce the most amazing items. I remember them so clearly. Want to make them or find them in reality. It's one of the main reasons I want to learn to draw. I want to learn to recreate the imagery of my subconscious, of the dreams I live so vividly with every detail of the remembered for months, years even.
Do I live in the last, present, or future more? Well honestly, none of them. I live in the subconscious, the world of dreams.

The only thing is that my dreams often bring things to rise out of the blue, sometimes when I'm really happy even I'll wake up with the sharpest pain, the softest dread and mourning. Sometimes I hate it. But being an evasive cold person it is one of the few places where I ever confront anything.

My hands are dry. I hate washing my hands because soap is evil. It makes my beautiful, slender, thin, semi-creepy, strong hands all cracked and dry and rough. I need to buy hand lotion for realz.

I am elated that I have the iPod working finally. Music is on my ears constantly, being my soundtrack to life.
I am elated that I am actually ahead of schedules with HTML but not so elated that I still have an assload of work to do in other classes.

I'm stressed. Yup.
I've been stressed for a while but now it has nothing to do with humans...Humans who utterly paralyze any functioning ability that I have. My cold hearted appearance is a defense mechanism. I need to function, need to focus, need to be a head more than a heart though I feel with them all: spirit, heart, head, body. They are all there interacting but not always showing.
Yeah, stress. Academics. Fuckity fuck.
Fuck 'em all(as I write a summary for Enviro and work on my project for HTML and think about what I still need to do[a lot before Dec. 11th]).

I might as well go and meander out of this meloncholy, secretly boiling and bubbling mood. Focus.

I'm just sick of this computer. College life revolves solely around a computer screen and a voice talking.

Welcome to Lo-Land.

Peace.
~Lo