Shall the words of misfits spoken/be treated as jester's tokens/There is but a glimmer/full of the dim light you have/cast In time all heroes depart/There was hope once in my heart
After going back to "relive the madness" (I really should rename that) I realized that come the 25th of September (heh heh, that's an Earth Wind and Fire song. . .or at least close. . .wait, no its not) this green abomination I call a blog will be a year old. Soon it'll be teething, walking, and weening itself away from formula. Its just so cute! So in complete and total creative laziness. . .uh, I mean retroactive style, I'll be posting some deep thoughts from the past. Not every day mind you, just mainly whenever I don't have any real thoughts sitting around. So today draws back to the month of February. What was I thinking in February? (This is where the screen would swirl and you'd hear the dream/cut sequence where we warp back to February)
Thursday, February 26, 2004:
Allow me to make a point. I was thinking late last night, during one of my incessant spells of insomnia (which I blame for my present mental state) and I thought of several different things. First, if sounds were images, they'd be transparent. When you listen to music, you can hear lots of sounds blending together in sweet harmoney. If you could create images from each of those sounds, the only way to really symbolize the sweet sweet harmony would be if they images were completely transparent. In keeping with this theme, I'll say my daily stupid phrase, sound waves are transparent or invisible to the naked human eye. Though really if you distort sound enough, I'd imagine its effect on the air and the particles in the air could be well documented. My other thought was my overwhelming joy in not being a "beautiful person". Fortunately, my name is not on the list, and I don't have a walkie talkie, (guess that song reference!) because frankly being beautiful isn't enviable. I guess I should clarify. I've come to theorize that there are two types of "beautiful" people in this world, (well two types I care about right this moment) and that's effortless beauty and insane beauty. You see, effortless beauty is just that. Its a person that awakens from a deep slumber and is still beautiful despite the fact that in actuality they've just woken up and their features are insanely distorted. These people take showers, shake their hair out, and walk about life, astounding us with their raw beauty. We all know people like this, people that we've never in our entire lives seen have an ugly moment. We all have ugly moments, but these peoples must have theirs early in life, so as to not have them when it counts. Bravo, I say, to these people, and I add in a very fake golf clap. You are indeed genetically superior to me in every way. Please note my biting sarcasm and my complete lack of disregard for your feelings. Chalk it up to being beautiful. The rest of us ugly gigantuan heathens get to mistreat you out of sheer jealousy and envy. Of course, that brings us to the insanely beautiful. These are similar to the effortless beauties, but they have to put forth effort. The person they are when they wake up and the person they are in the two hour time span that lapses are as dissimilar as Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. They all carry a cleverly designed facade to fool us into thinking they are effortlessly beautiful. But if you watch them carefully, its really rather obvious that they are not. The hypoallergenic scrub they carry in their pockets, the gel and styling mousse strewn about their personal space in their efforts to keep their hair controlled and stylish, and their inability to arrive anywhere on time. All of these clues points to an insane amount of energy being expended in order to maintain a high level of beauty. These people are the ones that order the salad at restaurants, eat half or a third of it, and then take the rest home and feed it to the dog. Or give it to me, an ugly. Sometimes uglies ascribe to be insanes, but it often just fails in a complete mental and nervous breakdown, culiminating in the ugly person being found in a pool of his/her own styling products. Its a horrible thing to have happen, especially if its to someone you know. I've known uglies who crossed the line to beautiful, and let me say the amount of dedication they put to being a beautiful is nothing short of horrendously hilarious. I find myself torn between offering them a way out of the torturous ordeal that they have put themselves through, and doubling over in gut-wrenching laughter at their vain attempts. If you told them they were an insane beauty, they wouldn't believe you, because they are so far down the path of no return, that even the blatant and honest truth could not save them. To all the beauties of the world, I'll be sure to remember my place and wait on you hand and foot as your ugly servant for the rest of your natural lives. Which for the insane ones will extremely short, or the majority of it will be spent trying to maintain that effortlessly beautiful look.
The mp3 for today?
Burgundy Years - Joy Electric
So what do we learn? I've always been an insomniac. . .