Why the hell am I awake
Muse
organic_goat
Voldemort planted the idea for the Harry Potter series in JK Rowling's mind.
Because every single one of your seven copies of the books is a Horcrux.

Ow.
Muse
organic_goat
Do you ever watch Dr. Horrible,
And start weeping?
Because the supervillain inside of you,
Just wants to tell him he's not alone?

HNNGH
Muse
organic_goat

So I've been spending all of my time on The Slender Nation Forums.

AND IT'S SCREWING WITH MY HEAD.

See, there are people, and then there are the sorts of people who spend their free time researching, delving into, and otherwise populating the Fear Mythos with new and mysterious ways to need to change your underwear.

And people, as in the people you pass on the streets, are- for the most part- not the same sorts of people you'd find on TSNF. They're normal people, the sorts of which respond with apropriate levels of disgust and scorn if you spend twenty minutes delightedly discussing the social and cultural implications of medieval torture devices and think you're talking about a device for gathering leaves if you mention The Rake.

BUT.
BUT IF YOU SPEND ALL YOUR TIME ON THE SLENDER NATION FORUMS.
YOU WILL BEGIN TO FORGET WHAT NORMAL HUMANS ARE LIKE.

I'm in this difficult quandary of liking people- I get along well with most people I meet- but there's a problem. Because now, I'm starting to treat 'normal people' the same way I treat the other forum-goers. Even though MOST PEOPLE YOU MEET FACE TO FACE WILL RIGHTLY DECIDE THAT THERE IS SOMETHING CERTIFIABLY WRONG WITH YOU IF WITHIN FIVE MINUTES OF MEETING THEM YOU'RE DISCUSSING ELDRICH MONSTROSITIES AND THE IMPLICATIONS OF GLOBAL ENVIRONMENTAL DECLINE ON MANKIND'S FAITH IN THE SUPERNATURAL AND HOW BEST TO REMOVE A PERSON'S EYES FROM THEIR SOCKETS WITHOUT CRUSHING THEM BECAUSE EYES ARE SOFT AND SQUISHY.

I had known that this I had this problem before. But it's never really bugged me before.

Except now, I met this really interesting, really cool girl that I hit it off with right away, and I was looking forward to talking to her-
AND I THINK I SCARED HER OFF BECAUSE I CONVINCED HER I WAS INSANE TOO QUICKLY.

Damn it.

mourirarty, I'm blaming you.

I don't know why, I just am.


Oh God Yes.
Muse
organic_goat
SO.

I had previously been fascinated over the fact that I had gotten a smartphone and thus finally had a good enough camera to photograph my artwork.

And thus, the smartphone was amazing and stunning, and I didn't know what to do with it.

Now, though?

I just got a camcorder.

I don't even- what.

This. It's just...

What.

I have to do something with this. True to form, I have to do something amazing and rediculous with this thing. Like uncover some kind of global conspiracy. Or pull a proper evil mastermind and use it to properly document things that explode. Or convince the world that aliens have landed or something.

For right now, though?
I'm using it to take little snapshots of my room.
Because my room is a glorious mess.

It's terrible. ienablu says that for me, it doesn't count as messy so long as you can still see the floor. And you can. Mostly.
But at the moment, my latest copy of Lynn Thompson's Special Projects is on top of my abridged guide to Gregg's Shorthand, which is spilling over onto my copy of The Portrait of Dorian Grey, which is resting atop my Sailor's Guide to Knots, which I'm fairly certain is in the midst of mating with my new The Practical Pyromaniac. And to me, that amounts to a great old massive mess of truly inspiring proportions.

And the weird thing is, I know exactly where everything is in here.
But if you're looking for something in particular? Well, happy hunting. I keep knives in these piles, too.

Watch your fingers.

DSC00137

Weird Things
Muse
organic_goat
A conversation with ienablu today brought something to mind which made me want to bury my head under several pillows.

I do really stupid things sometimes.

Well, not stupid necessarily, but they certainly do sound freaking bizarre to an outside observer. The sorts of noodle-incident style things that you mention once at a party, and then realize a moment later that everyone in the room has gone silent and is trying very hard not to stare at you like you've just shapeshifted into an anthropomorphic lima bean.

I may edit this list as further developments ensue, or people remind me of other rediculous things I've managed to pull off (that I probably didn't think much of at the time, and therefore don't realize they ought to belong on this list).

The current list is thus:

Setting my bed on fire while trying to clean it (I DON'T KNOW IT MADE SENSE AT THE TIME).

Ruining a credit card by dropping it in a swamp.

Scaling a tree onto a roof and having to sleep up there because I got stuck (my phone wasn't charged, so I couldn't call for help).

Accidentally giving my math teacher the impression I had a crush on him because I kept photographing his varicose veins.

Having to shave my arms after a freak accident involving Sodium Acetate (goddamnmotherfucking OW).

Causing my school therapist to retire (I'm still immensely smug about that one, even years later).

Causing a neighborhood blackout with paperclips (don't ask).

Dropping three dozen bouncy balls out a sixth story window onto the street in the middle of rush hour.

Letting cicadas loose inside the atrium of my bank (I really didn't intend to, I swear).

Training my goldfish to attack strangers.

Roping our state representatives into a Go Fish game (this story involves parfaits, internet access, and a pirate costume).

Sort of almost nearly committing suicide with a Furby.

Boobytrapping my old secret hideout so well that nobody- not even me- could reliably get within twenty feet of it for almost half a year. (Things not to do if you have a god-awful memory: anything that involves remembering specifics later on.)

Making (and firing) a bullet made out of coffee.

Deflecting said bullet with an origami shield.

~And other such ludicrous stuff.

FINALLY
Muse
organic_goat
Okay, so. An update.

Foremost, I ought to mention: holy crap, I've finally reset my sleep schedule to an almost-human norm. Going to sleep at one in the morning and waking up at six or seven isn't bad at all, especially for someone who usually falls asleep around noon and sleeps until just after the sun sets.

Secondly, ienablu's tattoo. It's awesome. I was there with him as he got it, and if it's even possible, I have to say it looks even cooler in person than in the pictures.

Thirdly, I've been reading the old Creeper comics about the Gotham City superhero with severe mental problems. Depending on the origin story you stick to, he either gained his powers through surviving the Joker's laughing gas, or a mad scientist trying to save his life with stem cells after he got shot in the head, or something about a device which activated a super-serum in his blood which was mixed with narcotics (which is never really well explained), or another variety of weird background stories. Think 'Deadpool' meets the Joker's 'want to know how I got these scars?' story for how consistently this thing makes sense.

It's still awesome, though.

And fourthly, I've been working on a little -ahem- secret project. Can't say too much, so let it suffice that part of the project has moved onto LJ. It's already up and running, and I hope to connect it up to the rest of the plan soon.

I'll leave you with that.


Going on Day Three...
Muse
organic_goat
Oh God damn it.

Okay, so.

Yesterday was fine, and interesting, and kind of fun. But today winds up being in the category of 'really bad days' for a friend of mine, and I had set up this great big plan where I would fall asleep early and set my alarm clock and then I would wake up at a time which could be construed as 'a decent sleep schedule', and then I would go and meet him and we would eat together and I could try and take his mind off of things and not be in a state of sleep-deprived neurosis the whole day (not like that's my standard operating procedure or anything, of course not, what are you talking about?)

HOWEVER.

When attempting to properly phrase this plan of mine to mourirarty, I had gotten right to the part in the plan where this whole thing required me to go to sleep at a- and I quote- "feasonably reasonable hour", when he promptly began making faces and pointed out the fatal flaw in this plan of mine.

I do not sleep at 'feasonably reasonable hours'. It doesn't happen.

To this, I brushed him off with what amounted to "Oh, shut up" because I figured it was most certainly meant as teasing and I didn't think much of it. Then I signed off and put my laptop aside and went to bed at midnight-ish.

I then woke up at 2:30 in the morning and have been unable to sleep since.

Jim? I concede the point. You were right, I was wrong, and I apologize for making light of your entirely rational analysis.

Please take it to heart that at least my insomnia is a sufficient 'I told you so' to teach me my lesson from now on.

...sleep...
Muse
organic_goat
...does not come easily to me. Nor regularly.

And thus, once again, I'm posting at 5:23 in the morning. I'm beginning to notice a trend.

Last night was dedicated to chaos, and natural curiosity, and art.

Art because for the first time in my life, I actually own a good enough camera to photograph my work, so I uploaded a lot of it.

Natural curiosity because I'm considering taking a couple of community college classes. Like Theatre. And Interpersonal Communication. And International Relations.

Chaos because anyone who knows me well enough to have a double-take at that last line will currently have a look on their face as though they took a bite out of a particularly moldy lemon.

And now I think I will weave myself a necklace out of electrical tape and black velvet and spend the whole morning contemplating the apocalypse and the various chemical properties of water.
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Muse
organic_goat

I don't remember when last I slept. (Read as: did I last wake up yesterday? Or the day before?)
The only reason I'm aware of the fact that I ate was because yesterday was wednesday, and I always have at least one meal on wednesdays, but I don't recall the actual event, so I have to take it on faith that it actually happened.

Currently surrounded by all the clutter on my warzone of a bed (remarkable, isn't it? That it's actually possible to sleep on this bed:)


This

 
and thinking about how the absolute chaos of all this rediculous stuff I surround myself with is a fairly decent metaphor for my life.

I just spent the whole night folding origami, listening to viking metal, researching the various ways to get blood out of carpeting, and reading every single friends-locked backpost in my friend's LJ.

And now I am drinking tea and trying to figure out whether or not my hat has enough secondary accessories to double as a swiss army knife yet.

And it's only 5:45 in the morning.

The perfect start to what I hope will be a beautiful day.


Writer's Block: Ides of March
Muse
organic_goat
What are you wary about today?
I am wary about the past and the future, but I'm not worried about them right now.

There's something kind of poetic in that.

?

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