Wow...

I am more popular than I thought...

Anyway, this happened a few weeks ago, but I felt the need to share today.

Teachers in France all have horrible handwriting. I am dead serious, I can understand a doctors handwriting in half the time it takes me to figure out what the hell they scrawl on the board. And it doesnt help that I cant understand what they say anyway.

They dont care if you understand or not, they just expect results.

Anyway, a teacher was actually writing out notes rather than preaching at us while we stare out the window (or that could just be me...) and I was actually writing them down. I know, right?

Anyway, they scrawled something particuarly illegible and I stopped, stared at the board for a moment, and tne said out loud, Is that even in English?

And then I was like ........

I may be having some issuses adjusting...

ANYWAY, Happy Belated Halloween!

(no subject)

Augh.

No one explains to you that being the adult in a fucked up situation is not only mindnumbingly annoying, but its also insanely difficult to not revert back to letting others just make the decisions for you, because thats what youre used to doing.

And yall wanna hear something a little messed up, and no small amount funny?

I am hearing voices.

And not just that voice of reason in the back of your mind, telling you what you should be doing. Its shouts and whispers and humming and tension and other people in my head and I sometimes have to stop and tell thim to shut up so I can think.

I dont think Im crazy, or even heading there. I am under a great deal of stress every day, and I sometimes need someone other than myself to talk to. Thats fine, I hope everyone can have those conversations with themselves to get a new perspective on a situation.

I just wish that I wasnt parinoid enough to hear Mmes voice gratting on my ears, telling me what I need to be doing to make her happy.

I quite literally found myself dropping what I was doing to scream at her to shut up and get out of my head. She wasnt there, of course, it was just that fucking voice.

Or sometimes its buzzing like flies, but thats easily cured, you hear that all the time in class or something, you just hum some song and fill your head with that. And youre not sure if youre acting any different, even when you know that if you let go and let it fill your head, youll probably snap and hurt someone.

This all sounds in parts woo-woo and in parts homicidal. Both of which are resonably cured by chocolate.

Or sleep.

Or Gorillaz.

Yeah, thatll work.

From One to Another

http://lyra-wing.livejournal.com/100679.html?style=mine

THE BEST LINE IN HISTORY, IN THE BEST STORY IN HISTORY, I AM NOT FUCKING KIDDING YOU.

YOU WILL KNOW IT WHEN YOU READ IT BECAUSE YOU WILL HEAR THE SOUND OF YOUR MIND SHATTERING.

YES, IT IS THAT GOOD.

No, seriously. It is. Its basically someone giving a name to my patron gods, and not too bad a face either.

And now is my time to get philisophical, so I suggest you just skim through this. This is just me putting thoughts to internet.

I have always loved travelling. I have always loved being the drifter, the one with no roots, no ties, outside the margin, beyond what you consider your world. If I see myself growing up to be something good, its in the caravan of merchents with a Winnebago and a trailer, drifing from one flea market to another faire. Its in the vagabond that makes money as they go, no ties, no address, no fucking phone number for all the world to find you. Its following the seasons, visiting places and people that you have never seen before, and may never again. Its something new every day, something scary, something that no one can take away. Its the rolling scenery, the wide open, empty highway, the grunge of sleeping in your car and washing your hair in a public restroom sink. Its brooding over a cup of diner coffee, in no hurry to be anywhere, because you have no one claiming your time, your presence.

I have always hated affluence. I hate having money just sitting there, doing nothing except weighing on your mind. I hate the idea of designer clothes that you only wear once, jewels you leave in a vault, cars you drive just to look good. I hate going to faires, circuses, markets, because I always feel like I am on the wrong side of the table. I shouldnt be browsing through earrings, I should be back there helping unload the truck.

I had a taste of that a few years ago, and while I hated the cause, the sense of being outside looking in was perhaps the best in the world. I was below notice for most everyone, and I didnt care.

I pretty much figure that if I was ever stuck in an office situation, I would crack from the monotiny of it all. Thats one of the reasons I started dying my hair all sorts of colors, piercing my own ears, splattering paint on my walls and clothes. To have some change, something new and different. The same, but not.

Unfortunatly, the only occupations I can think of that would accomidate that lifestyle is that of a trucker, or running away to join the circus. And Cirque de Soleil has pretty much ruined the classic circus for those who actually have bones, so thats ruled out.

Theres always being homeless...

Anyway, I have found my dieties. The Gods of the Highway. Bring it.

And I now have a new motto...

I have had several mottos in my life.

When I was young enough to not really notice, my motto was, Fill every waking moment.

When I got old enough to know what a motto was, it was, Who cares?

Then I changed it to, Its easier to apologize than to ask permission.

Throught high school, it was, I regret nothing!

My family motto is Embrace Entropy.

Up until now, my motto had been, Do what you can with what you can.

And it is now, Ask not if its responsible, but whether you can get away with it.

And I will endever to live by it. (heheheh)

So, anybody else wanna share theirs?