Of no Significance

Here I proclaim to The Wombats: change your schedule in Los Angeles. What's the use of pleading when I neglect to look at plans ahead of time. The horrible, wretched, immoral, unnecessary irony of it all. The speculation and absence of the problem.

Obscenely Abstract; I feel naked

My right wrist is sans the



green yarn of good times. Oh joy. Been a loong frickin' year. What they all be up to?

Time to end this

Recently I have been occupied with doing absolutely nothing. Yeah, been keep busy these days (uh, seriously). I don't feel like reading, drawing, doing internets, even playing any video games. It's a sickly life after Harry Potter; he sucks the life right out of ya and there you are--dead on the cold, stone floors of Hogwarts where you learned all the magics in that helped to get you to where you used to be. But, then again, you end up reanimated for some reason, etc, etc. Much fun, eh? The stuff I am doing now is a result of hours of TV watching beforehand and attempts to be entertained through other methods. Here It shall go on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on. Oh sweet Moses. What is the way by which we decide to make sure something goes our way? I've also had horrible problem and I wish to fucking GOD that I didn't have to leave L.A. the first weeks of August. (I never thought I'd ever say that since my arrival.) Goddamn conspiracy, I say. How does something like this happen twice within mere months of each other? I can't conceive the methods by which this atrocity has been committed. What is up with this unjust, improbable happening? I guess that leaves me to describe those last couple of sentences as rants, but other than that, this experience has left me throughly unsatisfied and quite angry since it has started. I can't really explain where this negative feeling stems from; at the moment I think that I've been feeling like this do to the fact that I've literally been rotting indoors for the last 4-7 days. It's not a pretty picture and it does get dreadfully oven-like here. Oh my god, it's been ridiculously boring. What the hell is up with the whole deal here? Fucking shit, mans. It's some horrible version of that show that was about those people who went through those deals that weren't like they were in the right universe. That's how I think I feel at the moment. I am also in need of some sort notebook for a serious task. Now. If there are any people wondering why this particular post is especially long I shall provide an obedient-type answer that I hope will help create a better understanding of how my mind works. Yeah ok.
Just to add a little bit on the end here: I think that there isn't a fair distraction from the world revolving around the Sunday gatherings. There is nowhere to hide anymore, I think, without being exposed and ultimately being questioned by some sort of angry authority. What am I gon' do about that? There is no longer some sort of safe haven!! What will become of the time spent instead of the other time? Oh, the damn conspiracies of the world working against me! Woe, woe to the unprepared and neglected. Seriously, what is going on in here right now? It can't be anything remotely good.
Perhaps I should add a tad more simply because it isn't really long enough for some sort of honest, good writing piece thing about the stupidness faced in this lifetime, but there.

Nymphet & Wiz

Before the 7^th HP book arrived I entertained myself by reading Lolita (yes, the one with the girl and older guy and camp Q). Rereading it; actually, it's been maybe two or three years since I had read the thing, but I generally abandoned the taboo tale for something more enchanting...

Well, I have finished the majority of the last Harry Potter book (sans the epilogue; I really don't want t know what happens to anyone in the future--it's a little strange and I prefer to make my own assumptions). After reading roughly 500 or so pages yesterday, the most shocking death, personally, was Hedgewig. I absolutely refused to believe it, yet it was so. And then today reading about a slew of other deaths (Fred? Honestly?). The story of Snape was rather sad, but the most interesting aspect of this book were the hollows, their history, and the improbable chain of events that ultimately led to, of course, one H.P. The ending was--I don't know. I felt as if I had readThe Importance of Being Earnest all over again, that's how the ending made me feel.
And can you imagine? A Lolita and Harry story--Middle aged wizards hungrily scheming (Voldemort too? Somewhat so in HP & the Chamber of Secrets) to attain young witches and, or dare I mention, muggle girls? Isn't that just a creepy thought, though? Indeed, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, disturbing.

The need to explode is necessary

So, there really isn't much to comment on. I think, though, that no matter where I ended up I would be unhappy (--actually these events bring me to the cliff of horrible, everlasting misery). I keep thinking of how else this tragedy could have turned comedy (The Winter's Tale, anyone?), but it keeps turning into inevitable loathing and doom.

Digression, digression.

I really don't know anything remotely worth a mention. I don't know what I used to elaborate so much on, although at the moment there is some construction-related noise outside that is quite loud and bothersome.

Eewck.

If evil goes down

Friday the 13^th.



What's scary about today? Hardly nothing unless you count some vengeful person killing off people in some summer camp. All I've got to state.

Well, do ya, punk? Do I feel lucky?

Since today's chock full of lucky goodness (that sounds like a lucky charms bit)-- Nothing. Just filler. Thought that I might put this in because there's a significant gap between my last thing. Since then I've watched Fast Times as Ridgemont High and it was killer. And I finally finished reading Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment and I read As You Like It by the guy who adores shaking his spear. Also playing video games to pass time. Oh, yes, other films too, yet not as nearly shocking, I guess.