Wednesday, March 31, 2004

At what point are you too conceited? Is being conceited period bad, or is that more or less just being really confident? I guess I ask because I've been quoting Muhammed Ali, simply stating that I'm the greatest, not to mention I'm pretty too. You know what I realized while scrolling through my archives? I've not written a good short story in a long while. A very long while. Not to worry, I'll be sure to keep that in mind in the coming week. So here we are at Wednesday, and all I can think to ponder is whether or not I'm conceited. Yeah, its been that kind of a week. Lately, a lot of things have been going horribly wrong, but in all actuality, I'd imagine that is a good thing, or maybe a bad thing, its hard to say. Wait, how are things going horribly wrong a good thing? Well, its all been my car, so at least now my car is safe, but then again, I'm back in the hole I like to call debt. There's nothing better than knowing you've effectively wasted money on something that will probably require more of your time and money further down the line, to inevitably break, fall apart, or merely spite you. But in all honesty, a good deal of everything that's gone horribly wrong has been all my fault. And being all my fault is what I'm all about. Verily. (heh heh heh) Anyway, here's the end of the blog. Yes, I felt the need to announce that.
My mood?

Name the two other heroes and you might get a cookie. . .

Monday, March 29, 2004

Late night posts. There's nothing better than that. Well, there's several things better than that. . .like say, fried chicken. Or macaroni and cheese. I like macaroni and cheese. Its incredibly italian and not really at the same time. Actually that's not why I like it. But anyway, due to a good deal of tiredness, I can't share the abundant thoughts of my head. But I'll leave an interesting song. Because I'm cool. Don't worry, tomorrow will find me in better mind and body, and hopefully I'll be able to type to my hearts content.

She calls me from the cold
Just when I was low, feeling short of stable
And all that she intends
And all she keeps inside, isn’t on the label
She says she’s ashamed
And can she take me for awhile
And can I be a friend, we’ll forget the past
But maybe I’m not able
And I break at the bend
We’re here and now, but will we ever be again
Cause I have found
All that shimmers in this world is sure to fade
Away again
She dreams a champagne dream
'Strawberry surprise' pink linen and white paper
lavender and cream
Fields of butterflies, reality escapes her
She says that love is for fools who fall behind
And I’m somewhere in between
I never really know
A killer from a savior
Til I break at the bend
It’s too far away for me to hold
It’s too far away...
Guess I’ll let it go
My mood?

Night time, and I'm still not calm. . .

Sunday, March 28, 2004

And it's over, so soon after it began. A good time was had by all, but now its time to say goodbye, to all our company. . .S-P-R (R we going back to school so soon?) I-N-G (G, I've not done any of my homework) B-R-E-A-K. . .but since it is officially the end of spring break, I have to bring back the deep thoughts. But first a recap of all that happened. Our circuit overseer was in town, got to spend a lot of time with him, he and his wife are good people, (say that with a Haitian accent to get what I'm saying) and it was great having them in town this week. There was also football, and helping my friend Kenny and his wife, Jacquie (who coincidentally is also my friend) move into their new deluxe apartment in the sky. He's definitely moving up. . .getting a piece of the pie. We were going to barbecue some beans, since we fish was frying in the kitchen, and they wouldn't burn on the grill. That's the Campbell's Soup (condensed) version of my spring break, and oh yeah, Ben stayed at the house one night, but we were both so tired we didn't get to do anything cool. And my car, well, its yet again on the bricks. Brake pads, rotors. Fun for everyone involved, except for me. So really its not fun at all. Anyway, here's a topic for discussion. Lets say you were sitting at a dinner table, and you were listening to someone who we'll call 'A' talking about how he or she goes to the movies by themselves. Naturally, being a good friend, and a kind person, you'd say, well why didn't you call me? And then somehow 'A' tells you that he or she is considering if he or she is your friend or not. As you choke back the tears of pain that well up in your eyes, you realize that you're no longer wanted so you get up and suddenly there's this waiter and he's all like, "Uh" and you're all like, "Whatever!" and then the other people are like what is he doing, and your eyes turn green and you start turning into the incredible hulk, but in the process you knock over someone's buffalo chicken wings and it completely spills, and suddenly you realize. . .you're not the hulk. Then the person debates math with you, and says that all guys are evil. True story. So, 'A', if that's your real name, I hope you're happy, because you made me cry. Well actually you didn't, but you did make me write this long blog. And yes, 'A', you made me. I feel totally forced. I'm going to go lay down. On another note, I've probably got a test tomorrow, and I don't even remember my name, or the majority of what I did today. And yeah, that was a semitrue story. SEMI!! And not HEMI!! I'm babbling. Check out the hulk picture.
My mood?

Be sure to look around before turning into your alter ego. . .

Friday, March 26, 2004

Short sweet to the point. Here we are on the verge of getting down,(and that's a Funkadelic Lyric. Find out what song and you'll get a CD from me!) and its already Friday. The week has gone. I'd be sad, but I'll be to busy trying to cram all the fun I can into this weekend and into this day. So this will be very short and very sweet. So a few random thoughts. I don't like dogs. At all. I dream of the day I can punt one in self defense. Self defense. There's nothing better than a fifty yard punt. Fifty yards of punted dog. That's kind of funny. I'll laugh. All the way to the fun. Because that's where I'm going.

My mood?

I hate dogs. . .

Wednesday, March 24, 2004

So, today's Wednesday. I'll not wax philosophical today, because, well, I'm on spring break, and the key purpose to spring break and is relaxation. So there won't be any deep thoughts. But to make up for it, I'll post lyrics to a song that's running through my head. This one I didn't write. The Gorillaz are the ones to thank for this. First the Spanish. And then the questionable translation to English. . .

Dejalo si quieres continuar
Sal ilumina tu vida
Todo el cielo aplatandote
Dime que harés
Ilumina ese amor
Antes que se vaya

Algo siempre te entristese
Cuando todo va bien

Que pasa contigo?
Algo siemre te entristese
Cuando todo va bien
Que pasa contigo?
Que pasa contigo?
Dejalo si quieres continuar
No ocultes tu alma al sol
Tienes una vida preciosa
De que sirve si solo

Mueres suavemente
Que pasa?
Que pasa contigo?
Que pasa contigo?
(Mi hermano)
Que pasa contigo?
Escucha a tu propia voz
Salva tu amor
Que pasa contigo?
Antes que se vaya
Si todo va bien
Que pasa contigo?
Que pasa contigo?
Mirate a ti mismo
Que pasa contigo?
Mi hermano

Get up
If you wanna survive
Get oh so alive
In your life
Everything falling out the sky
On top of you
Now what you do
Fill yourself up now
It's the love of your life
___ on me
All I know
Before it's gone
I always feel scared in the town
And nothing's wrong

What's the matter with me?
What's the matter with me?


Give up
If you wanna survive
Pick the sun back up
You got to get on the song lowly
What's the point?
It's funny till you left to kill yourself
In this town

So what's the matter with me?
What's the matter with me?
What's the matter with me?
What's the matter with me?
The lesson? Make sure you know what you're singing in Spanish, or perhaps listening to in Spanish.

My mood?

You can't argue with the math. . .but I'm sure you'll try.

Tuesday, March 23, 2004

I'm sure you want an update on the life that is Javann, but alas, Javann hasn't the decency to tell you whats going on in his life. So be prepared to weep as Javann uses his incredible blogging powers to cause you misery and strife! BWA HA, BWA Ha, BWA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! And your little dog too!! So what would you do for a Klondike bar? Well, if you'd ever had a Klondike bar, you wouldn't pay $1.29 for one. But somewhere in the world, right now, someone is paying that with tax. Why do people spend money on things that aren't worth it? Not too mention the fact that the more money they spend on worthless things, the more cheesy advertisements appear. Its a vicious cycle. Either way, I've not got a lot to say this morning beyond that so here's an old poem of mine. Enjoy.

I can't feel my eyes,
could I feel them before?
I'm really not all that sure,
but I know I want to feel my eyes.

Maybe these eyedrops will help,
bring the pain of sight back.
I need pain that,
helps me to see the horrors well.

Horrors what horrors have I seen?
I see greens and reds,
the dead killing the dead,
and the mortal affronting imortal beings.

I still see horrors so strong,
that I know they can't be right.
Horrors committed in broad daylight,
when I know right from wrong.

Horrors I tell you, that's what I see.
Capital H, followed by o's and a r's.
you don't belive me? then get in your cars.
Drive away and when you get home, you'll envy me.

That's right envy me, I can't feel my eyes.
but I know what you have in your mind.
I know what creeps around in you at night.
I know what you are afraid you might find.

You're afraid that you'll enjoy the pain.
That if you don't keep everything the same.
and if you ignore the obvious change,
then you'll be free from the chains.

The chains of feelings your eyes.
But you'll never break free.
Someday you'll be just like me.
And you'll need to feel your eyes.

My mood?

Number one reason why I didn't design Jurassic Park: The Ride

Friday, March 19, 2004

Its officially the eve of Spring Break, the time of year when millions of young college students think wistfully ahead to the time when they can drink themselves under a table, or a bar, or pretty much just drink till they forget. On the eve of this incredible massacre of brain cells, one has to wonder, "Where can I purchase enough alcohol to do this?" In all honesty, alcohol is expensive, and you wonder how college students who are primarily broke all the time can scrap up enough funds to even do this for a week. Then it hit me. Spring break is a total myth. There is no such thing as spring break. Students stay at home and study for the upcoming tests and then when they get to class they lie about how great a time they had over spring break. That's got to be the only possible solution. In all honesty, today is definitely the day to end all days. Because its what I like to call SUPER FRIDAY!! Its super because spring break officially starts whenever class is over. . .and that in itself is indeed super. SUPER FRIDAY!! So kick back relax, if you're not in college, wish you were for about two minutes and then remember how much school sucks. Enjoy the SUPER FRIDAY!!

My mood?

Stupid college kid, get off my head. And quit singing Where's the Party At!!

Thursday, March 18, 2004

Nothing is conceivably better or worse than waking up late. You feel so untired its shocking, yet, you stop and realize the better part of the day is gone, and you'll never get it back. That's quite a tragic thought in all reality, because losing part of your day is actually pretty sad. The hours, the minutes, the seconds that you spend now are never going to come back. There'll never be a time when you can stop and say, you know, I think I'll take some of those unused hours out of the fridge and go do something. Obviously this is impossible, because keeping hours cold doesn't always keep them fresh, and because we could never save our hours. I've always wondered what I would do with my time if I could save it, bottle it, or freeze it, and pull it out later for properly planned consumption. The list of things I would do is undoubtedly as infinite as my imagination, though really, I'd still feel as if I wasted that time. There's never a point in my life when I can look back and say, you know, I didn't waste any time doing whatever it was I did today. I always feel as if my time is wasted, and needlessly too, because it didn't have to be mistreated in such a way. I think this is another of those questions that I have yet to ask, that press upon my mind, even when every fiber of my being tells me I'll never truly understand the answers. For instance, how exactly is energy converted into matter? What are angels made of? Are they pure energy? Which parts of matter are first made from energy? Is there anything faster than the speed of light? What is it really like to travel that fast? Or even just travel at the speed of light? What is gravity, and how does it work? My mind is literally brimming over with questions like that, and I guess, well I guess I'll just have to wait for the answers. Ah well, its not as if I don't have time.

My mood?

Waking up late. . .

Wednesday, March 17, 2004

So, I wrote this in economics class. Good news, it was before class. Bad news, it lasted well into class. I missed some stuff because I was writing this:

Its like being told that you don't exist.
You know its not you,
but what do you do,
when you realize that's something's amiss?
A miss who takes absolutely no notice,
doesn't pay any attention,
to the art of verbal retention.
How can I possibly ever show this,
young lady exactly what I already feel.
So much I've already done,
to convince her she's the one.
Yet she's not responsive to me still.
How much more time and energy should I invest,
when all I get is ignored?
She pretends she's bored,
but she's really just the one mentally at rest.
I don't think I'll ever make her understand,
the truth behind my words,
worms can't hope to speak to birds,
So she'll never know exactly who I am.
At what point do you stop being an artist? Can you define an artist by his or her artistic expression, or is there something beyond that? I'd like to think an artist is still an artist even if there's norhing particularly artistic going on. I don't think of Michelangelo as being any less of an artist, even though he's dead. Of course, the problem here is that art continues speaking over a period of time, which means that the expression through art is always constant. That shouldn't come as a suprise to anyone except for maybe me, but for the most part that shouldn't be suprising. But the fact that art lives on really makes me wonder whether or not the interpretation that we are so used to hearing and making on our own is anywhere near what it should be. Of course the key would be just to ask the artist's but they're generally vague since they spend the majority of their time, well dead. In the cases of Rembrandt, Michelangelo, Picasso and the like, they spend all their time taking the long dirt nap, which makes it really hard to ask them if they'd officially lost their mind, or what it was they were thinking. Not that it mattered, if they were really as intelligent as everyone made them out to be, they wouldn't tell us what to think. Really, the fact that art can be interpreted is what makes it endure in the human psyche. At least to me. I really think people enjoy the fact that they can completely and totally rip apart someone elses work, or even just appreciate it in their own way, and that is why they listen to certain music, or why they enjoy viewing certain art pieces. At least, that's my thought, I've been told that what I think doesn't matter. Well, that's my semi-deep thought for today. I'll have better once I get a bit more sleep. I can barely keep my eyes open, which is sad indeed, considering I've got music blaring in my ears at the moment. Anyway feel free to leave your own thought provoking comments.
My mood?

Inside looking out. . .(thanks Jerm for the picture)

Monday, March 15, 2004

So I can remember if I posted this at any point or not, but I figured, why not, lets repost this. So here's something I wrote not too long ago. Um. . .take heed.

If I gave you the world, it wouldn't be enough,
because you and me can only be us.
You make me see,
how monogamy,
is more than just,
being monogamous.
Its built on trust,
not to make you think lust,
but you arrest my mind like I was in cuffs.
make me want to write,
reflect on my life,
all in hopes that maybe you might,
notice me noticing you,
put me on notice that you noticed me too.
Really, I haven't a clue,
as to what to do,
to get a little attention from you.
Poems, songs, flowers, anything you want,
unless its just me, then please be blunt
then I can get you outta my mind,
and find,
someone new to inspire my rhyme.
Cause lately its seems,
you've been in my dreams,
and I'm slowly losing touch of reality.
Can't get you outta my head,
don't wind up dead,
without saying what needs to be said.
Ah yes, Monday, the day when mental inertia is at its worse. My mind won't get started, and I can't feel my eyes anymore. Its a wonderful state. So what happened this weekend? What didn't happen this weekend? And why am I asking rhetorical questions? All that and more tonight at nine. . .oh wait, I'll not want to have to type that up tonight at nine, so I'll just tell you. FIRST! This weekend was pretty hectic, and fun at the same time. We played football, we ate food, and a good time was had by all. Somehow we managed to harrass every waiter that we met, and all quite good naturedly might I add. Sunday, after eating food, we made music, and while I'd like to call it beautiful, I try not to lie. . .no just kidding the music was beautiful, beautiful, beautiful music. Why did I just type that three times? Why did I ask that? Because its Monday. And on that thought, I'm prepared to head back into the same old grind. But first, I've decided that imperfection is easy. The reason I say this is I got a test back in English. I got a B. While that's cool and all, that isn't conducive with my recent streak of A's. Which means NOW, I get a B and its like, CRAP!! I wanted an A!! Before if I got a B, it was more like CRAP!! I gotta to go and celebrate!! If I'd have known this was going to be like this, I'd not have tried so hard to get good grades. By merely doing what it takes to get by, I'd have more time to sleep. Speaking of which, that couch called me names, I'm going to go have a prolonged conversation with it.
My mood?

Hey, even I can dress up once in a while, right?

Friday, March 12, 2004

Neglect. Its definitely a seven letter word. And this previous week is the result of neglect. Neglect of my blog to be specific. So here we are. Its Friday, and there's nothing better than sitting here, stomach full of cereal and several glasses of water. This week was hectic to say the least, full of things to do and there's still tons more for me to do, but the plus side about this week is. . .actually, I don't think there is a plus side for this week. BUT!! I did get some sleep, and I saw my sister, spent some time with my father, and realized that my family isn't so bad. So in all actuality this week had been cool. By the way, Jeremy, I owe you an apology. I'll be sure to clarify later. Also, an EP. I call it, "If You Hate The World, Then You Should Go Home". Catchy no? No? Oh okay. But anyway, it's shaping up to be rather interesting. And weird. But interestingly weird is what I normally enjoy. That ends today's entry. Haven't really posted for a week or so, and I don't want to strain anything.
My mood?

Who cares? This is a convertible!

Monday, March 08, 2004

I feel. . .I feel. . .I feel nothing to tell the truth. Nothing at all. I'm a blank slate on the emotions area, and I'm not sure why. It could be because I slept in today, after a hard day's night. Maybe its because I've not really learned to deal with Mondays. This is my day to feel completely complete. Friday is pure emotion, Mondays are pure thought. Normally Monday is the official time period where my mind fires up and my emotions take a back seat. Probably because if I went off of emotion, I would have a hard time going to class and getting through my day. It'd be very difficult for me to face my Mondays emotional. Or maybe its just. . .who knows what it is? I'm actually growing tired of thinking about it, so I'll just recap the weekend. Friday, I had to work, and work I did. Till 12:00 in the morning, capped off the night with cheese laden double krystals (a healthy eating choice I know) and went to sleep. Saturday, I went to a graduation party, danced like an old person, and then Sunday, played some ping pong after the meeting with a very good ping-pong player. My back hurts now from the inordinate amount of stretching, not to mention the amount of swinging my shoulder has had to endure. For those not in the know, ping-pong, or really, table tennis, isn't a light sport. If you play right, its down right strenuous. And I play right, or maybe I don't. I could launch into a philosophical spiel about how can we define anything right in such trivial areas, but I'd rather not. So today is the day of much thought, not much sharing. Sorry to disappoint, but to make it up to you, I'll leave a cool picture.
My mood?

Jerm's a pyromaniac. . .and I'm not far from it myself. . .

Friday, March 05, 2004

This episode finds our hero stranded in a a world of books, trapped with no way out except through his mind. It being Friday, our hero lies down to rest for the rest of the weekend, since his policy is never to think on Friday. Though in all actuality I did some thinking. Granted it was last night, but technically it was Friday, since it was last night at 12:00 or so. Apparently my mind is not familiar with the standard time that my body is. Either way, my thought was pretty superfluous anyway, and so really it shouldn't really count as a thought. What I thought was that you never see any real genius superheroes. You never see the superhero who's one power is his incredible mind. Sure he's kinda buff, (since no one wants to see flab in a spandex, or whatever it is the stylish superheros are wearing nowadays) but he's been altered by a terrible accident/comes from another planet/was raised in a library and now has the mental power of fifty men. Sure you see people who can move things with their minds but you rarely see people who can think and invent a way to do that. Some superheros are smart but they have to be because the only intelligent people you see are villians. Lex Luthor, Brainiac, that guy with the huge head from the Hulk comics, all of those are villians whose sole abilities are mental. There's never a point where a man who's a supergenius decides, "Hey, I'm going to go out and fight some crime. . ." Its always world domination for the intelligent ones. What does that say about our society, don't be smart because if you are chances are you'll want to rule the world? Sheer brilliance and overwhelming intelligence is never a true match for brute strength backed by an average mind? Only the intelligent make truly formidable foes? Draw your own conclusions, I'm going to go take my second test of the day. Hopefully my brute strength and average intelligence will help me prevail upon my evil genius professor, who has a doctorate in world domination. Really its political science but its just a small stretch of the imagination.
My mood?

Man, I'm looking buff. . .in my own mind. A little green around the edges though. . .

Wednesday, March 03, 2004

I see but I never hear, I look but I never listen/I've got plenty of hours, but never minutes/my life is halved, middled/my body full and still riddled. . .take note of the ellipse as I segue into another part of my blog. I refuse to use paragraphs. . .so now I just use ellispes. I laugh at organization. Then I cry on the inside. So what's the happenings this Wednesday? Well, other than the world's longest night, followed by the world's shortest morning, there's nothing much to be said. I'm slowly going crazy from lack of sleep, and I've said to myself more than once that I don't know what I'm talking about. The ongoing argument between myself and I stems from last nights cleaning. I ran across a copy of the Birmingham News (motto: We're not the Huntsville Times) and after sitting down to read it (yes I read the whole thing) I started thinking it'd be cool to live in Birmingham. Then I remembered what Birmingham was like all the times I visited, what with the smog and the death (well, the smog, I didn't see any death when I was visiting) and then I decided that I wanted to live someplace else. Huntsville's a great place to live, if you want to live here. That may not make sense, but I've had three hours of sleep or less, so lets go ahead and drop all the pretenses here: I'm not going to make any sense in another sentence or two. So more or less, I begin wondering what it was like to live somewhere else. Then I begin my usual thought process of what it would be like to have some change. Of course, my ever growing theory of how change affects our perceptions came up and I realized that the reason I enjoy change is because I'm a impatient person. For those who don't remember my change "theory", (and I use the word roughly) about two to three months ago, I decided, after some thought, that time didn't exist, at least our concept of time. For those who don't want to hear the deep thought about to come, I warn you now to look at the hulk picture. Time isn't a dimension or a stream or whatever it is that people would have us to believe. Time can be measured in hours and such, but there's a reason for why time seems to speed up or slow down, a definable reason. My theoretical reason (we might as well call it a law, since honestly there's is no way to test this) for these phenomena is that time is our perception of change. It all makes sense right? No? Understandable, let me explain. You see, we percieve change, consciously or unconsciously. We know time has passed because of sunsets and sunrises, our bodies constantly change metabolizing food, processing oxygen, and deteriorating. At this point, I'm sure no one is reading, but as we percieve change, we equate it to time. If there were no change, (which is impossible) there would be no time. The example I used was the fact that people who slip into comas can't percieve the passage of time, and therefore time stands still for them. Many of them wake up thinking that its the same year and minute as it was when they fall asleep. Someone brought up the fact that they don't stop aging, and of course the response to that was SHUT UP!! No actually the proper response is that I didn't say change didn't occur, I said perception of change is time. They still changed and so did the things around them, but they were unable to to percieve that change, and therefore their concept of time didn't exist. As dramatic changes occur, time (our perception of change ) speeds up or slows down dramatically. Without change, there'd be no time. Having solved mankind's greatest mystery in little under twenty-one (really in about five minutes of good thought) years, I'll retire once I accept the Nobel Prize for Science, write a few books, and take in the scenery. Truth be told, I forgot why I brought up this whole discourse on what time is, something about wanting change in my life. I think I was going to say I prefer change over all other things, which is why I don't have favorite sandwiches, or why I don't like having a set routine. Change is what motivates me to do things, the fact that I won't have to do that thing the next five to ten years, over and over again. I like the fact that the seasons change, not so much what they bring. By the time winter rolls around, I'm glad to see the end of summer and fall, and by the time spring and summer roll around, I'm glad to see winter leave. I guess at some point in my life, I'm going to want to establish some type of routine, but until that time gets here, well, until that time gets here. Anyway, I've typed enough, you've read enough, kudos if you made it to the end of this and read this entire spiel. You, sir, or madam, are a truly special person.

My mood?

Not smiling for the missile launching camera. . .

Tuesday, March 02, 2004

Who's idea was Tuesday? This day is one of complete and apparent blahness. I should fill my blog up today with nothing blahs. Because that's how I feel. Blah. Feel free to take note that blah is constituted of three parts cottage cheese, two parts peaches, and four parts sugar. Oh and two parts olive oil, as well as three parts parsley. Stir, blend, drink. Experience the blah. Yes, blah is definitely the formula for a blah time. Sometimes I sit back and quaff a few blahs, and I realize, life is nothing but a blah. Blah, its what's after dinner, and slightly before desert. This makes me wonder if I could start an advertising campaign for blah, and have people all over the world quoting my catchy blah phrases. Like, I'm so blah. I'm blahing like a blahin. Are those Blah you're wearing? No, its blah. Blah, its blah for blah. Pretty soon the masses would be wanting to their very own blah, but I would deny them blah, because I would be the blah holder, the blah provider, the blah Nazi, if you will. I could control the blah market. . .and be a blah culture enthusiast. It would not be first time that my finger was on the pulse of pop culture. Total blah. Also, I have the perfect letter to be written in Jerm's contest to write letters. Not to worry, I intend to get some definite results with my ability to sound angry. Anyway, feel free to spit some intelligence, and make sure it contains blah, because if its blah, you know its blah.

My mood?

In your face like a can of blah. . .

Monday, March 01, 2004

Yay, the weekend's over. It feels like every Monday, I'm thrilled with the fact that the weekend has ended. Its really great fun, fun for everyone involved, but its also filled with the incredible lack of sleep. And yes, the lack of sleep in truly incredible. This weekend saw more than I care to recount, but I can't pretend that I can't think, since this is Monday. So what exactly happened this weekend? My friend, Scott, got married. That was something to see, and as Jeremy pointed out this weekend as well, the definitive highlight was dancing to Bjork at the wedding reception. Definitive, indeed. Then Sunday, I went to see off my friend Kyle, who's headed to New York for four months. Have fun man, and be sure to watch the video. That video is going to be the key to survival. The key!! Or maybe it'll not be. Then I learned that the idea of eating cereal with other people that you hardly know is spreading. I've enticed the masses, and soon the world will seek out people they hardly know to eat cereal with them simultaneously. I'm so drunk with my power of partipulation. I think I explained that somewhere. If not, there's always tomorrow, and you can bet your bottom dollar, that uh, hmmm. . .I'm not sure how that ends. Anyway, that was my weekend in an extremely small nutshell. This weekend was full of thoughts, and I'll be the first to share them with whoever cares to read. Mainly, my thoughts were focused on the human mind. The human mind is without a doubt one of the most intriguing and complex gifts that we have. Not just from a biological viewpoint. Though really, I have to admit, I'm not all that shocked or impressed by it from a physiological standpoint. Really, our mind is synonymous to a system of living wires, all of which can be formed from point to point, simply by what we see hear, or think. All of our memories are dependent upon those wires staying uncorroded. That's not impressive at all. (sarcasm of course) But the fact that the mind can be so versatile will always impress me. It can produce a vast range of emotions, so many that we have a hard time understanding HOW we feel from time to time. Love, hate, anger, sadness, fondness, warmth, joy, peacefulness, all of those feelings emanate from our brain, due to a series of synapses, firing and responding due to what we've just experienced. What I see and experience is vastly different from what other people see and experience, even though we're similar from a biological standpoint. Two people can see the same person, and one person may find that other person to be the most beautiful person that he/she has ever seen. The other person maybe literally repulsed. Its all due to our minds. I'm also shocked by the range of thought that the mind is capable of. One person can have thoughts of world peace and bunnies, and then devious thoughts of hatred and revenge, in the course of three to four minutes. I know it can because I've done it. All in all, that's the best thought I can get out for such morning as this. Don't worry, I'll be sure to "step correct" come Tuesday, or the next blog will be my last! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. . .yeah I don't get it either. I was going to share poetry, but why not go to and search for Javann Jones. There's plenty there for your Javann-reading needs.

My mood?

I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings. . .was a really horrid book.