Episode 1: Ouchie

HAHAHAHAAHHAAHAHHAHAAHAHAA

I cannot fucking believe how much I'm losing my mind right now over soy sauce history. I'll tell all of you about it after I finish this essay because I need to un-distract myself enough to finish it but what the fuck? What the fuck is going on? I'm losing my fucking mind.

Where are the rushed diary entries, as you run with friends to a playground. Where is the harsh, impulsive attitude. When did it all become so soft? This is not at any fault of light, but at the fault of us for not properly documenting the dark. Early morning is not complete without the stinging cold air, tea is not without it's bitterness. When did we start writing only the delicate? You cannot comprehend love without the suddenness of it all, no matter how slow you can try to take it there is the unmistakable surprises love must give someone. Without the impulsivity, the dark, the sudden, everything becomes diluted. And much less true.

One of the games I like to play when I’m driving or whatever is to try and come up with the most out there paper titles based on the song stuck in my head.

Today’s is “Are YOU sleeping, Brother John?: a feminist deconstruction of the Christofascist child indoctrination in Frére Jacques.” and I might have to stop playing cause how will I ever top that?

I always knew I needed to keep a clear mind. It was helpful in every sense, but I found it so difficult to achieve, especially when I was conscious of my state of mind. I held my head in my hands, bent over with my elbows digging into my knees. The green park bench didn't help anything either, it was rough, uneven and uncomfortable. The air around me was cold but not harsh on my skin, and gentle winds tousled my hair and swept it to a side. The kindly breeze kept me company, I think it was the only things stopping me from crying.  I inhaled slowly, pushing my hair back with a hand. I closed my eyes and leaned back on the old bench, one of the planks dug into my back but I didn't mind. My head tilted towards the sky, I steadied myself. Slowly, like the forest waking from winter, I opened my eyes. The sky was a light gray, it wasnt unusual to see this sort of cloud cover, even early in spring. Unfortunately, the world told me it wasn't going to rain. I stay stilled for several moments, taking in everything. The smell of late winter, the taste of coffee still resting on my tongue, the sound of the winter rustling the bare limbs of trees. As I breathed, becoming one with my atmosphere, a small speck of white came into vision against the only slightly darker sky. It gently danced through the air and was quickly joined by friends like it. The snowflakes laughed like children and ran around, hopping, skipping and jumping as they descended down through the air, become calmly landing on my face and glasses. I smiled despite myself and previous mood, isn't it funny how quickly things can change? How quickly the walzt of snow fall turned into a slumber and blankets the world in white.

Good weather always brings out the best in my writing

Once again reminding you to lock your doors. It's zucchini season.

Guys don't leave your doors open, Its zucchini season.

I've just done the most confusing thing I've ever done.

I just,

got home and aired out blankets, thinking, I deserve this. hey I feel gross, and I know I had a shower yesterday but I think'll have another today, and I fucking did. Not for 27 minutes, 6 minute shower, wow! I want to do laundry, I'll do my laundry. I think I should change my bed sheets, that way everything will be nice tonight. wow, I'm on a roll! might as well do dishes too, I don't even have anything I'm avoiding. Hey I think I've done most everything I needed to, I don't have homework, I don't have a task or project I'm avoiding. That's great! I think I'll drink a healthy vitamin drink, they taste like oranges, maybe I'll even have a muffin. Im so proud of myself, look at you go little man!

Oh shit my Halloween costume I didn't finish last year

It's funny when you can only do eight (8) modified push-ups, but what isn't funny is not being able to fluff a pillow a day later because your shoulder are that fucking sore

You know what, no one can stop me from going on someone's account and liking hundreds of posts and then never seeing them again. You can't stop me, and you won't.