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The cycle previously mentioned is no more. The dreams have ended, and I have begun to live.
There will be no updates for a VERY long time.
There will be no updates for a VERY long time.
Direction
I'm addicted to the pathetic fallacy. I think that certain emotions are not only expressible in terms of landscapes, but that there is a direct link between the mental and the environ-mental. A macrocosm/microcosm dynamic if you will.
The more logical of you will say 'Duh! The environment shapes the way you think and feel, and determines who you are'. Not so. I think you're missing my point. Let me speak, I praythee, let me speak.
Somewhere deep down in my irrational, INFP, desperately-metaphysical psyche I think that the influence can work the other way round; that the mind directly effects the development of the surrounding landscape. I
Seasonal update
I'm feeeeeeeling... awesome.
That last Journal? Yeah, the day sucked.
But my Apps are done, and I'm cresting on a wave of happiness I've never felt before. It goes back to something that happened in '05 that has recently borne fruit again after a long, dark winter, but I can't talk too much about that.
Maybe I'll keep posting, you know? Not that anybody pays attention.
This will not be a good day
So I'm sleeping. My senses are draped in delicious nebulous nothingness. No thought, no will, no self. All there is soon becomes a faint, almost imperceptible drip, drip, drip. Suddenly, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGH!!!
A fire alarm. Throughout the whole house. At 4:25 am.
I got out with commendable speed, clad only in a bathrobe, and made it to the door. It had to be a real fire, right? I mean, who the fuck would trigger an alarm test at this ungodly hour?
ohfuckitsraining.
What followed was the quickest, wettest and most rotten role-call ever. Shouting, m
False awakening
This morning I had a dream that I got up, picked up a toy gun and pretended to be crazy; you know, shooting people and thinking it was a real gun, walking like a zombie, etc. I convinced my housemaster that I was a psychopath by 'shooting' him and his son twice, he called my parents and the police and I was taken to a mental intstitution. I was beaming happily as they cuffed me when my roommate woke me up by dropping some books. Asshole.
Now I'm angry and have a lesson to skip/an essay to write.
© 2008 - 2024 Unspeakable-Hastur
Comments2
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What a pity.