Our Time Is Running Out

"Is that your car out there?"
"The black one? Yeah, that's my baby."
"You should be out, you know, at the beach or somethin'. How come you're not out?"

Because I can't bear to see the ocean, that's why. I can't bear to leave the house most of the time. I'm happy. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy; I just live without the energy to live, if that makes any sense. A certain weight of 'health' looms over me quite a bit. Everyone wonders about my health. Seems like sometimes it's the only thing they care about... but it's not all that easy. It's quiet, like old cigarette smoke stains you thought were just stains but actually are reminders of scent that filter down from the ceiling years after you've quit, reminding you of the home you've lost in no longer having something dangling from your lips. It's something you used to hold and wave around to make a point, to hide behind when you were sitting alone waiting for a taxi that's two hours late and you didn't want to look so alone. A certain level of visual cool that has escaped your grasp with its release... a disposeable finger that slowly eroded with tiresome dispose and dictated the lines of your face to crease a little faster. It's about both want and need. A crutch, an invisible artificial limb without the obvious stares that come from fearsome wonder, that's what it feels like. It's below, under your feet, and making your toes ache with every step but not enough to change your shoes or even look down. Once you learn that it's not the shoes, it's your feet, there's a new awakening that occurs and separates the toes you once smashed together to look like something they weren't; to conform to a fit that wasn't your natural one. To warp with the pressure of time.

To give in... that is freedom.

Too much, too fast.

^ Click that to make me a happy camper, and watch this to make yourself a happy camper:



I still have yet to actually sit down and finish painting it.

Codewords

Really busy lately. Tidbits flying everywhere, thought and flakes of skin, everything and everything's cousin. Write soon. Remember English language as well.

She breaks, she breaks, she caves, she caves.

No time to say anything new, really. Hopefully there will be soon so don't give up little pixel journal, I haven't forgotten you.

That's pretty much how I feel about everything right now.

We share our mother's health

I would write a book if I wasn't convinced the secrets, lies, and general weirdness that is my life and the lives around me wouldn't make everyone hate me. They would, though. It's kind of evident. But none the less I live in a really fruitful and sort of insane world. Wait, I don't know if I'd call it fruitful. Fruity, maybe, but not always fruitful; sometimes it's rotten fruit, but fruit all the same. Like, today I found out one of my family members went in to the hospital for open heart surgery without telling anyone what was going on. No one, not even their significant other, in fact instead of telling them they lied and said they had to make an emergency trip to another state. It's weird to think about, but I guess it's (mildly) justifiable because they're sick as it is. Then again we're all different and everyone deals with things differently so maybe they were okay with the idea of dying without saying goodbye. It's the easiest way to go, after all. For you maybe.

There's lots of people that go through that sort of thing from the receiving end. We have this other family friend who went through 9/11... saw the bodies dropping from the sky and everything. If you ask them why they never went back to their job after it happened, all they'll say is "there were people in the air." That's enough of a reason for me.

And I think I'm crazy because there's just some days when I want to go to class with no pants on because I'm too lazy to put my leg in the hole. Go figure.

I want you to know when I look into your eyes, with every blow comes another lie

This Grizzly Bear video is the trippiest thing I've ever seen in my life aside from like, the Sledgehammer video. Pretty awesome even though it kinda does involve psuedo aliens which psuedo make me want to pee myself with fear, bad.



I love the internet.

Twas also I who ate the pie and passed the cake to me

There's this puddle in my front yard. It's a pretty big puddle and it comes whenever it rains or snows, any kind of precipitation happens, it shows up. It's got a history as weird as it sounds. It's called 'Lake Lenny' after my Dad, and it's sort of lake-like considering it takes up most of our yard when it comes to visit. Sort of like Frosty The Snowman... he shows up, hangs out for a while, melts, and comes back again some day. That's Lake Lenny.

When I was little I was small enough to sit in the center in my underwear. That's how I remember it most of the time; getting really excited when it rained and stripping down to barely anything to throw myself against the itchy, sandy ground over and over again until it stopped raining or I started shivering, whichever came first. Splashing was easy, fun, and it didn't matter how dirty you got, at least not to me because I was four and I didn't care about hardwood floors or tiles that were bigger than my feet. I even learned to pseudo ice skate on that puddle. (I suck at anything that requires an object being strapped to my feet for movement, mind you. I can't rollerskate, rollerblade, ice skate, ride a bike, or even wear those roll-y shoes 'cause I fall. I fall very hard, and very a lot.) They were kind of primitive ice skates though. I strapped them to my white hi-top Reeboks and fell all over the place. I gave up after about five minutes because that's my style. Try twice, give up three times. But that's only with certain things.

Now I just run over Lake Lenny with my car. I crack up the thin layer of ice when there's still frigid water beneath the surface, or just skid right over it when it's too hard to budge. It's still there, though. It's the complete opposite of random, it's large, and it's never changed. If there's one thing I know will be here long after I'm dead, it's that puddle. That puddle will be a lake some day when my house becomes too old and ricketty to stand up. When everyone I know and love is dead, when the world is taken over by aliens and we drive cars in tubes above the trees some little futuristic space kid will look down and see my puddle. He'll wonder what it is, and when his parents give him some omipotent dictionary definition he'll shake his head like he understands but he won't because he's never felt the water from my puddle on his skin when he was four, nor will his parents because they didn't name the puddle before I came. He won't understand a swirl of the finger mixing dirt and rock and sharp, unidentified brickle in my puddle. The puddle that was theirs before it was mine.

Magnolia Red Velvet Cupcakes = HEAVEN

I'm pretty bored and right now I don't have much to say that won't get me angry, depressed, or in trouble so I'm just going to paste a video and link one of my most faaaavorite sites ever, http://www.cuteoverload.com. That place always manages to make me feel better. What can I say, I really love baby animals and pointless captions.

Speaking of pointless captions I've discovered a few that describe the last few weeks of my life perfectly:





Especially that last one. Amazing. Oh and picture cred to the respectful owners. If it's yours drop a comment and I'll credit.