The bout with Rurouni Kenshin was sick, yes, but I watched the second half of Trigun starting from last night, spilling in into 30 minutes ago. I'll hold off starting on Hack//sign until next semester.
Self-disgust is at a high, yet I feel good.
Don't sell guns to muslims!
Or maybe yes. Yes, do sell guns to us.
My master plan is to become ruler of the world with a mercernary army. It's something I've been holding on to for a few years. It actually feels plausible.
And then I plan to destroy the human race.
Before that, I want to master using my big umbrella as a weapon, and move with the grace and speed of anime characters. (And to also achieve their physical build.)
This is the rapture, kiddos. Fear my name in time. There's bloodlust underlying my docile exterior, and I'm waiting for the perfect moment to unleash.
Feet dragging. I don't feel like coding. The VPN won't let me connect. My co-worker is a bit incompetent in understanding some basic things. The bugs. The boredom. And then the tiredness. It doesn't end. I'm sad.
Vea?
(Having a working heater is also lovely. All of a sudden, things aren't so…cold.)
Once upon a time – on a Halloween that fell on the weekend – Boy received an e-mail from his electronic circuits professor. The e-mail contained the date, time, and location of an upcoming exam.
Boy glanced through the e-mail, registering a November 11 as a test date. The previous exam fell on a Monday, but he thought nothing of it. Armistice Day was just as good as any other.
And so the days passed, and Boy passed the days idly, paying little attention or care to his classes. The weekend prior to the test came and went with barely a flip of the textbook pages, for other more interesting things had happened. This would mark roughly three weeks of academic neglect.
Monday the tenth came. It would be the day he started studying. Something felt off for some reason. Before Boy began studying, he looked at the course syllabus, out of curiosity.
Lo and behold, he found that nagging uncertainty: the exam was that night and not the following Tuesday night.
Panic didn't set in. In fact, he took it rather calmly (though there was a bit of aggravation at his folly, for a few explicitives were yelled). There was nothing he could do but try to learn as much of the material as possible within the next few hours.
The evening came, and roughly one-third of the material was digested and understood. Not bad in such short time, but not good enough. Seeing that there was no use in studying any further, he decided to take a walk with a certain lovely young lady, a relaxing excursion before living through his own suicide.
He went to the testing arena, Noyes 100, and found the rows to be rather cramped. This is such a terrible setting for ‘learning’, he thought, knees and elbows smashed next to each other. But the setup for higher education didn't matter at the moment. What did matter was that he completed only half the test and left ages before anyone else would finish.
The half that he finished, though, he felt he nailed. A solid 50%, much like the previous test in which he'd studied ahead of time for. There were, however, doubts later on that he got those questions completely right. They just seemed right at the time.
There was nothing else he could do, except walk home in the light rain, feeling complacent and like a jackass. He got home and finished his Clutch marathon. It was time to look forward to the final.
THE FINAL.
Here are the last two dreams I had before waking up:
Sleep was excellent. A solid six hours; it's the best I could ever hope for nowadays (which makes me think that I should pull all-nighters every other night). Not that I've caught up on it, but I feel more refreshed than on the days where I'm in bed for eight hours.
It could just be the cold, though, that's keeping me alert. I need insulation tape. And the heater doesn't work. Fucking CPM.
Good morning. When will the earth cast a shadow on the sun?
I've had roughly four hours of sleep since Friday morning.
Sans financials and academics, things have taken a turn for the better. The past two days have been good. I thank the lunar eclipse for bringing things together, among others.
Sweet dreams.
A select few from Andrew:
– puke on the lap of a coked out dancer
– come home kaiser
– why are you so clean?
– how much crap did you buy?
– what does asymptotically mean?
– quiero fumar
– 2 wickets?
– i'm dying, dying, dead. 
– screw that, get you some ass
– poopity poo poo
They span two months and are not in context to one another.
I wonder if my messenger bag is for life? God willing, it'll be the same exact one (through my mastery of tailoring), but having a bag in general is the more reasonable thought. I always need it with me, even if it's functionally useless for the occasion. It feels like armor.
Some 13 hours ago I wanted to surprise Toby while he was in the kitchen. With my black bed sheet draped over my back and shoulders as a cloak, my large umbrella – centered and pointing down – clutched with both hands, and my feet with heels touching, toes pointing slightly out, I stood patiently at the foot of his bed.
The corner of beds are naturally the springiest, as they seem to deform the most. Steadiness, however, wasn't hard to achieve.
As I waited, I thought that closing my eyes would add to the weird, dark aura I was giving out. Once the eyelids fell, however, the steadiness I once had crumbled. All the minute muscle movements gave way to a slightly swaying body. No matter how hard I tried to regain control, nothing worked.
I opened my eyes and balanced myself again within seconds.
So I have this theory that, without a focal point, the muscles can't accurately make those slight movements that keep us steady. With the eyes closed, they overcompensate, and several groups are fighting for control. It's like a metaphor for politics, actually. (That's not the point of this post.)
And when I wear my bed sheet for warmth, I do envision it as a vampire's cloak. I'm obsessed with this cloak business.
There was once a girl who just struck me, for reasons still a bit unclear.
I saw her again today in the Union, the first time since the last time. We made brief eye contact, and I probably should've smiled, except that I'm scared to smile at strangers. (Especially this girl.)
Is that the last time we cross paths?
I just want to know who she is, at the very least. I can't even do that.
I'm pathetic.
I should stop fooling myself into thinking I'll get homework done anytime. Then that four hour nap (which became an eight hour nap) wouldn't have been interrupted as much.
Apathy and laziness are crippling my grades.
Must buy insulation tape.
[ 6:56 | Apparently, I also have to go hungry for a couple of hours because there are unexpected ‘guests’ – which I just found out about – sleeping in the living room, and I don't want to be rude and wake them by washing dishes so that I have something to eat cereal out of. ]
[ 7:06 | Nevermind. I'm eating cereal and milk out of my nice café-style coffee cup. (It's wide and shallow. Kind of like me!) ]
I think hip-hop is underappreciated. The mass perception of it seems to be very one-sided, and that's partly because listeners are maybe too lazy to discover and discern the differences between different artists, and because record companies are promoting a certain image. Hip-hop equals flashy shit, drugs, thugs, sex, etc.
What bothers me most, though, is that some people out there don't consider it music. Just because the rapper doesn't sing? Or that live instruments aren't often used?
I was taking a long walk today after dropping off some DVDs, and I was taken in more than usual by the mix I made. The cadence and rhyme and stringing together of the words – even if not melodic by definition – felt so much like music.
I love the sound of words. I try to make that a driving force when I write things, and actual meaning takes second place. That's not to say rappers don't make sense, but what registers first is how they sound, how they carry themselves throughout the song. I know I've said it before, but it's sometimes so hypnotic. Addictive.
How many people appreciate that? When you can draw someone in and evoke feelings without a tangible meaning, that's music.
Of course, good lyrics just add to it all.
There's a thinking that, by showing all languages have a set way in which they're formed (meaning, they can be systematically categorized and derived from some root structure) it would prove that all humans have a common form of thought.
I've been wondering how this fits in with music. It's not so simple, I guess. The way in which we're brought up, what we're surrounded by sets the mode of our brain, and that's never easy to change.
And the rambling stops. It's just something I thought about while walking that I had to get out in some way. I haven't had that urge to write so specifically in some time.
Walks on pretty nights are great. I might've walked for hours if there wasn't homework due in the morning.
Derek and I watched The Matrix: Revolutions this morning, hoping for the 4 AM showing but opting for the 8:05 (because the theater wasn't open as early as we'd first thought). Overall, it was better than the last. More epic fighting, tried and true sentiments, and the evil villian laugh.
It was a conventional sort of end in the end. What exactly could you do, though? Give Neo super hover boots that let all of Zion cling to his feet as he pulls them away into space? And what if the robots needed oxygen before they could give chase? That would've been a more intriguing scenario, maybe. Enjoyable nonetheless. Worth it.
There were a lot of old people in Meijer this morning. And we had a breakfast of donuts and orange juice and kind of wished that someone would've actually brought a light saber.
You can't knit while standing in the cold without mittens or warmth. It's just too difficult.
Clap hands,
clap hands.
Now that Dave Thomas is long dead, Wendy's decides to destroy their $.99 menu here. Biggie fries are replaced with medium-sized fries. Potatoes and five-piece chicken nuggets are the only things left at $.99.
And, they didn't include my five-piece tonight (which they charged me for).
To hell with them. I was looking forward to the nuggets.
(There's a nice breeze through the windows, due partly to the rain. The falling drops sound pretty.)
I went for a walk with Asma, and by coincedence ran into Dan, who we were kind of talking about. (Actually, it had to do with Joe Martin, who is, of course, Dan's roommate, and an ass. All because we passed their house and I pointed it out. Maybe it's time to start a Society Agaist Joe Martin club?)
After the walk, I met Kim, a ‘former’ online friend who I'd kept correspondence with on and off for the last three years, which was fun. Any playful, unrealistic thoughts I had about going to law school have now vanished completely.
After Kim and I parted ways, I still had a good 30 minutes to kill before lab. I went to Espresso Royale and knitted for 20 minutes. Just as I finish the row and get ready to pack my things, The empty needle jumps from my hands. It jumps and hits a table that a guy happens to be working at but, thankfully, didn't hit him in the face or knock his drink over.
Two girls laughed out loud.
I think the best part about it all was that, unlike other embarassing situations, my heart didn't skip a beat. I didn't get nervous and slightly paranoid. I just trotted downstairs, smiled at and apologized to the guy, took the needle, and went back to my table. And then left immediately afterwards, which people must've read as me about to die of embarassment and needing to get the hell out.
(Jenn was there, Ryan. She must think I'm an idiot now.)
And then my lab partner and I finished in 30 minutes. Seriously, it has to mean that everyone else is just…stupid is a harsh word, but they're definitely not catching on quick to the easy things.
That's my story.
I'm sorry if I come off as depressed often. It's just little battles I have with myself. I don't have some priorities straight, and I'm looking for distractions, and I get mad at myself when practically nothing works out.
And then there are the things which I don't have control over, which I shouldn't even seek out. At least that's the less painful choice.
Overall, I'm either a blank or cheerful person, with small fits of rage/anxiety/restlessness.
It smells like rose water and tastes wonderful. I'm in love with a wine!
(Because girls can't usually tell that I exist.)
Lovely weather we're having, though. Yes.
In order of immediacy,
Loosely related, I'm also going to continue watching three episodes of Sex and the City to start my Mondays.
Alpha-4 is my first scarf, weighing in at 4 ft 8 in and 29 knits.
The work spanned one week, but I'm not sure of the exact time it took. It's a sickening amount which I don't want to admit to.
Since it is my first anything in knitting, there are obvious mistakes (such as the middle regions contracting and the ends expanding), but, if worn, it doesn't look bad. I don't think. I had no idea about what pattern(s) I would use, and tried to be ambitious with giving it a somewhat complicated look. Along the way, I realized what exactly purling did, and how to rib, and that odd number stitches skew things.
Since it is my first anything in knitting, I've dubbed it Alpha (the ‘-4’ indicates three prior unravels before sticking with it til the end).
So, yeah. That's my baby. And I'm giving it up to Ms. Smith, who will take good care of it.
Hip-hop : Rock › 14 : 3
01 Cliff Notes [Living Legends › Eligh]
02 Kill Em All (remix) [Aesop Rock]
03 Skip Town [Aesop Rock]
04 Daylight [Aesop Rock]
05 Just Riden' [Saafir]
06 The Formula [The DOC]
07 Town to Town [Del]
08 A Life in the Day of Andre Benjamin [Andre (3000)]
09 High Schoolin' [Outkast, Slim Cutta Calhoun]
10 A Roller Skating Jam named Saturday [De La Soul]
11 Die; 1 by 1 [Brotha Lynch Hung]
12 Halo [Hieroglyphics]
13 Glaciers of Ice [Raekwon, Ghostface Killah, Cappadonna]
14 Speed Law [Mos Def]
15 LOST [The Icarus Line]
16 Prayer to God [Shellac]
17 Out of the Races and onto the Tracks [The Rapture]
Notes
– saddened that no one introduced self to Shellac earlier than this summer. (Dan)
– shaving sucks.
– school sucks.
– self sucks.
– Eligh.
—I listen to rap every now and then.
—Are you serious?
—Yeah, yeah.
—Well, rap is cool because you should listen to a lot of different kinds of music.
—Ah oh eh…