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Nanowrimo. Exactly one month until it begins. It's hard to imagine. In exactly one month, I will be writing frantically, desperately. Typing one hundred words a minute, thoughts rushing through my head and banging against my skull, pleading to be written down. Adrenaline rushing through my veins, my eyes frozen on the screen of my laptop. My headphones in my ears, blasting Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. Nanowrimo, it's so far away, and yet, only thirty days, before it arrives. This project is much more relaxed, but I think, it might be harder than it looks. That, has yet to be seen.
How long has it been? Since I've woken up, in time to watch the sun, rise up over the mountains. How long has it been? Since I've had the time, to take a leisurely walk, and listen to birds, sing. How long has it been? Since I've had the time, to feel cold splashes of rain, upon my face. How long has it been? Since I've had the time, to look up at the sky, and discover for myself, that it really is blue. How long has it been? Since I've had the time, to do anything, really worth doing?
I love to take showers, in the dead of night, when no one else can hear, the pitter patter of the tiny droplets of water, against the hard plastic walls. I hum to myself, in the shower, quietly, so that I do not awaken the world. Let everyone dream. Let the billions of people dream of billions of people in billions of showers as billions of warm crystal clear droplets fall over their bodies, rinsing away the grime and sludge that has built up during the day, and releasing them, fresh and renewed. Ready for another a dream filled sleep.
The land flourished, guiding its people in the way that a mother rears a child. Without the mother, the child is nothing, without the land, the people were nothing. But a child grows, and becomes arrogant and indifferent; casting aside the mother. It can fend for itself now. The people grew too, and as they grew, so did their minds, they created substitutes for the land. It was useless now. The people destroyed the land, why should such a useless thing still exist? A tear ran down her cheek, the people killed the Earth; the Earth would kill the people.
Spiral spiral round and round into the endless black void of oblivion. Out flies your soul and out flies your heart and out flies your mind. Whee! Soon you're nothing but a useless shell of nothingness, with no purpose and no meaning. What a shame, that such a wonderful life be taken away from you so quickly and so easily. Sort of scary no? That after all these years of hard work and labour. Flash! It's gone. What a shame little one, what a shame. Selfish child, going about and searching for all the wrong things. Try harder next time!
Foolish little one. When will you learn, that you are too small, to take on, the world. Silly little one, when will you realize, that you are too young, to go off, on your own. You are too naïve, too innocent, too perfect. Why so anxious to leave? Aren't, you happy here? Aren't, you satisfied, with what you have, been given? Why, throw it all away, and join, the broken scarred world? Do not let, your beauty, fade. Do not let, your innocence, be washed away, with the tide. Little one. Stay with me. What shall I do, without you?
Why are mornings painful? Why is it necessary that open my eyes and accept what's before me? Why must I leave behind the pink flannel sheets and the luxurious foam mattress, which act as my shelter during the night, when illusions and unrealistic thoughts fill my mind? Why must I, why must I, face the reality of this world? Why, to preserve my sanity. As dreams becoming increasingly more bizarre and horrifying, as they grow in realism, and breathe down my neck, pressuring to accept them as truth. I open my eyelids, and realize that I was saved by reality.
If Reki was a pop star, I wonder what he'd wear. Would he continue to don himself in that enormous maroon robe? Yes. His voice, what would it sound like? Somewhere in between soprano and alto, he'd have a very high voice for a male. In olden times, there were many eunuchs. Their range was higher than that of normal man. Is Reki a eunuch? What is it like to be a eunuch? What is it like to be a boy? What's it like to be a man? What's it like to be a woman? A dog? Bird? Old? Paralyzed?
I want to go to space, drift silently amongst the white hot stars, thick clouds of gas, black holes. I want to get sucked into one, and feel every atom in my body split into thousands of microscopic pieces and spread throughout the vast expanse of nothingness. I want to watch the sun explode into billions of tiny flames, watch as they disappear, realising in horror, that there is no oxygen to feed on. I want to see The End of the World, and watch The Creation. I want…I want to stay right here and wonder, it's safer that way.
I want to fly, high above the earth and the clouds and the mountains and rivers. I want glide, high above the steppes and valleys and all of Earth's imperfections. I want to sweep, high above the people and their wars, their poisons, their hate, their anger, their envy. I want to watch, expressionless, face clear of all emotion with the exception of the slight glint of curiosity that shines quietly in my clear eyes. Drawing no attention. I want to be separated from it all, isolated from it all, taken away from it all……but maybe, I would be lonely.
I've never been one for fashion, and yet, why am I drawn so to the spotless glass store windows? Why must I stare in with longing at the soft silk scarves and bright pink hats? Will someone please explain why I love to stroll amongst the towering shelves of perfectly placed high tops and fluffy blue froggie slippers? My heart fills with joy at the sight of a pretty watch, a furry coat, artificial of course, no minks for me. I love buying socks! I love pajama shopping! What is with me? I suppose it is a girl thing, right?
I often think about my life. Where am I going? How am I doing? What am I wasting time for? Why should I try? When will it change? What, when, why, how, where. Those are the five questions you're supposed to remember. When you're writing a news article that is. My life is not a news article. My life does not have a headline, but if it did, what would it be? Girl Fails Life, no. My life is not a news article, but, should it still include objectivity, accuracy, balance, conciseness, and clarity? I suppose it should, well, sometimes.
I procrastinate dreadfully. I work out this schedule for myself right? And then it's like, yeah, I'll follow that, duh, and I'll get everything done on time, great. But then it's like. Check my email, look and see if anyone replied to my post on the nano board, read my friends list. You know? I just can't stop myself. It sucks. It sucks quite badly. I wish I could just concentrate you know? Maybe, just this once, I'll try to forget about everything else, and envelope myself in essays and research papers, maybe I'll… nah, what fun would that be?
I'm attempting to suppress my laughter, and I'm afraid I'm failing dreadfully. It is impossible to maintain a straight face when listening to the Card Captors theme. Why? How dare they create this dreadful song, how dare they replace Catch You Catch Me with this! The Japanese themes are much better. However, I have to admit, this song is rather catchy. Oh my, the Chinese theme is a classic, bouncy bouncy! Come on Sakura! I am aware that this is a dreadful 100words entry. Please, bear with me. Tomorrow I will shine like a beacon for the world to see!
Sleep, is what I want most right now. To be alone, in a dark room, no one to bother me, nothing to worry about, no commitments, no priorities, no desires. Peace. Rest. Serenity. Quiet. Refreshed. Content. I want time for myself, and no one else. Maybe, I'll try harder, and maybe, one day, I won't have to be exhausted and unconscious to feel content. I hope that day is soon. I've got to try harder, concentrate more, stop fooling around. Then I will get my wish. I won't be tired any longer! I just hope I don't procrastinate too much.
So near, yet so far, from the finish line. So close, yet so far, from being complete. So close, yet so far, from the weekend. So close, yet so far, from November. Why does it feel like, time has stopped? Yet, things are going by so quickly. Deadlines, people, voices, thoughts, rush by so quickly that I don't even have time to process-it's like driving a car down the highway, surrounded by thousands of other cars passing by and slowing down. You can barely process the frickin' cars let alone the scenery. What's the point of the "scenic route" anyway?
Relaxation is fun. Knowing that the week is done, being able to just sit back and relax, even if it's just for a half and hour. Being able to take a deep breath and think "well, I did it." gives me such satisfaction. Yeah, you know that in a few minutes off you'll be again, on to the next task, mind filled with problems and ideas. But for now- it's so nice to be idle! Knowing that no one needs will you for a few minutes, just hanging out, headphones, book, laptop, pen, sketchbook, whatever. It's just nice you know?
I had a fabulous idea for an entry, yesterday that is, while I was, bathing, in the shower. I wrote it out in my head, but, of course, I didn't, write it out on paper. However, it seems, that I, have forgotten. Like a little boy, laying peacefully, in the snow, with no memory. No family, no worries, no desires. Just like, the little boy, in the snow. But, it must be, sad, to lay, in the snow, senses- dulled- balancing- carefully- on the wall- that separates-- the living, from the dead. Any moment- I could tip, in either direction.
I absolutely despise Achilles. He's a stuck up, stubborn little prat with nothing better to do than despoil others' bodies. I mean honestly, the man has, or rather, had, no life. All he did was kill people and then go cry about it to his mother. Get a life dude. Now Aeneas, there's a cool guy. He goes and carries his father up a MOUNTAIN, and that's not all. He then loads all his people up on ships and cruises around the Mediterranean before settling down and founding Rome. He was probably cute too. Erm, I so didn't say that.
I am so tired, but I cannot go to sleep, just yet, because there is much to do, before I close my eyes, and rest. Before I let my dreams, carry me away, to some forgotten island, stranded far away where no one else can find it. However I will soon complete my work, and I shall slowly make my way, to my soft foam covered bed, and lay my aching head, on my cotton, allergenic free pillow. So I'll work hard, and be rewarded, with a good night's rest. Goodnight friends, goodnight enemies, goodnight people of this busy world.
There's something sticky on my forehead, and I know what it is, it is the little blue pad, that keeps my forehead cool, why must I keep my forehead cool? Well because I'm Mr. Freeze, why else? In any moment Batman and Robin will jump in the window and take me to the Gotham City Jail. Actually, that's not true, the reason is, I have a headache, and it aches, aches, aches, and so, to stop it from aching too much, they make me wear this little pad. This isn't really a fabulous entry, but you will have to deal.
I am slowly recovering from my illness. Slowly, the throbbing pain in my head recedes and washes away to nothingness. I rest, and slowly, my body begins to rejunvenate, slowly it remembers how to function. Slowly, the dizziness wears away. No longer is the world, upside down. Slowly my eyes begin to focus, and sit straight, instead of rolling around my head. Slowly I heal, slowly, slowly, the numerous pills and medications take affect, and I grow. Into a better person. Sickness can be disabling, and rather inconvenient, but now, I am a stronger, and healthier person. I have survived.
Happy times will soon be here! Two days of freedom here I come, two days to lounge about and not worry which comma goes where and what comma rule this is and that is who cares! It doesn't matter now so why bother? That's what I thought, just relax and hang out you know? So what if you're failing all your classes even gym because ya can't do anything. Right? Right. Who cares if you're honours, AP, failure whatever. Just cool it okay? Stop crying over question five because even if it wasn't quite right no one's gonna care k?
I feel ridiculous. In my big bad Vincent hat, my big fuzzy hunting vest, and my stripey rainbow knee socks. Towering above the little children in their goblin outfits and fairy princess costumes, guiding the little bat boy in the batman pajamas and the homemade bat mask who seems to be my brother. There go the little cowboys, eagerly pulling out handfuls of popcorn and shoving it into their filthy faces. The floor- well we won't even describe the floor. Slamming their faces into the ice cold buckets of water and searching for fresh apples pierced with bacteria covered nickels.
I like enjoy lots of things, I like to sing, I like to dance, I like to laugh, I like to play. I like walking down the avenue in the autumn inhaling deeply and admiring the fall foliage that most people travel for miles to see. But just because I like it, doesn't mean I always have time for such things. There are much more "important" things in the world today. Ask any business like adult or adolescent. We're professionals, enjoyment and happiness is not important. It's enjoyment for goodness's sakes, who in the world has time for such nonsense?
Everyone thinks they know best. Adults know best. Adolescents know best. Preteens know best. Toddlers know best. Father knows best. Mother knows best. Grandpa knows best. Coach knows best. Teacher knows best. I know best. But, if we all know best, how do I know who to trust? Who really does know best? Maybe no one does. Maybe we all know absolutely nothing, and to comfort ourselves, we go into denial, and convince ourselves that we've common sense. Maybe it's a lie, and that's why, we must continue to do complicated math problems, to reassure ourselves of our artificial intelligence.
Never do today what you can put off until tomorrow. Who ever came up with that saying was a very wise man. Or woman for that matter. Procrastination is much more beneficial than it is claimed to be. What's so spectacular about getting things done beforehand anyway? That takes the fun out of everything. When everything is done and put away beforehand there's no adrenaline rush, panic, horror, excitement. No caffeine filled, sleepless nights that leave you exhausted and emotionally stoned, high off coffee, Pepsi, and Hershey's chocolate bars. Who needs sleep? I heard that it is extremely overrated anyway.
My connection seems to have failed. A shame no? Now, I shall not be able to post this entry, unless, my connection returns, quickly. I do hope that it does, for to get this far and fail, on the 28th entry, would be ever so disappointing. I think it might just make me cry. Yes, it might just. It's almost as depressing as accidentally deleting one's nano while writing it, and for some obscure reason, not being able to retrieve it. Now that would be quite a dilemma. Yes, quite a dilemma. IT WOULD SUCK IF I LOST MY NANO!!!
Gummy dinosaurs are yummy yum. Sugary goodness, destroying my teeth, giving me cavities. Fantastic. Now I feel rather sick, my stomach is aching and my head is pounding and my eyes are fluttering. Just kidding! I'm completely confused, dazed, tired. Standing in front of the mirror, gazing indifferently into the tinted reflection of the television screen. I have nothing to say. Just staring, staring at the computer, staring at the book, staring at the words. Floods of words. Everywhere. I listen to the preacher, but in reality, I don't hear anything. Silence. So much silence all around. Just silent staring.
One day more. One day until I let my autonomic nervous system takeover. What will I do, what will I say, and most importantly, what will I write? One day, to worry over plot holes, character personalities, ninjas, and Elvis. One month. 30 days. 50000 words. 177 pages. 1666.666665 or so words a day. Yesterday, I had six months to plan and prepare. The day before that I was writing my 2002 nano novel. What happened? What time is it? Where am I? One day? Don't you mean…. Six months? This can't be happening to me. What was I thinking?
Happy Halloween! May you live long and prosper, laugh a lot, and get very good grades. Be valedictorian in high school, valedictorian in college, and grow up to be a very rich, wealthy lawyer. I hope you have a big house, an obedient, attractive wife, a little daughter and a son, and that they love you very much, kissing you sweetly on the top of your forehead before you rush out the door, briefcase in hand, off to work in the car. Have many parties, and laugh casually with your friends over some champagne, talking about mindless things, stupid things.
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