your_new_cuckoo: (Default)
Goddamn everything. And everyone. I am tired. But I am still awake. I laid in bed for awhile, I don't know for how long. But I am back here, and I am lonely. May could have something to do with VB and her shots. Of course I was only supposed to keep track, not participate. But whatever. I keep biting on my tongue because there is some cut on it that hurts. It hurts when I bite on it, but in a weird pleasurable way. Yeah, I'm a freak. Whatever. I wish I could bite the end of my tongue off. It hurts. And I hurt, and I wish I had something to show for that. Isn't it odd that people feel they need something to show for their pain? The pain isn't enough; they need something tangible. Like a bruise. Or a scar. Isn't it strange how the mind works in some of us? And isn't it strange that we should share that with virtual strangers?
your_new_cuckoo: (bw max)
You're on a plane that's being hijacked or that is crashing. If you have a cell phone, do you make a call to a loved one? Do you stay on the phone until death? Do you hang up? What do you say? Imagine that phone call.

If Osama bin Laden was involved, what does this say about religion? Is this a good enough reason to be an atheist?

Should we rethink the anti-assassination policy?

What is it that is going on? Is there more to come? Will our response be something that ends it, or will there be a second strike? Will we get past the diplomatic rhetoric and actually do something?

Okay. Another story of a personal phone call. The whole thing rattles me, but these are the stories that get to my core. Hearing that Barbara Olson called her husband twice from the hijacked plane that crashed into the Pentagon brought it home. Then hearing that poor woman on ABC recount the conversation with her son who died in the Somerset crash. This makes it real.

I've spent the entire day online. To me it is completely normal and fine. But I am sure my family thinks it is nutso. Eh. I guess I should get a second line or maybe cable....

I can't keep my head on straight. I want so much to go do something else. I want to get involved in something else. I need a distraction. But I can't concentrate on punto chiave C or the politics of reality right now. I need something. I just don't know what.
your_new_cuckoo: (Default)
I hate scrabble.

I have absolutely nothing new or original to say tonight.

My last day of summer classes is next Wednesday. And the final is next Thursday. That went by far too quickly.

The next session begins the 16th. I need to add a class or I will lose a significant part of my student loan money in the fall. Which means I have to go to the department offering the class I want and hope they will let me add. Or I could just suck it up and pay the fine. Hmmmmm.

I love the way Rivers grunts in Hash Pipe. Methinks this is a serious case of obsession.

Hm. I feel the need to be absolutely, completely 180 degrees different. I don't like any of this. I wish it were opposite day.

Okay, I'm goin to bed. It'll all look better in the morning.


your_new_cuckoo: (Default)

April 2009

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