Greetings from the great wildeness that is Mississippi.
Been gambling here at Pearl River for the last two days. Last night had a great run of luck, including a 50$ hit on a nickle machine (turning 5$ into 45$). Tonight, luck has been horrible. I mean down right "what the hell did I piss off in my sleep" terrible. Oy.
So yah. I'll be home tomorrow, late some time. If I don't catch anyone of you on line, be good.

As a parting gift before I go, please enjoy these Subversive Crosstich Samplers. And be happy I wolnt be doing any xmas shopping from the site.

I have discovered the most addicting substance on earth. And quite by accident. For lunch, I usually have chicken and rice with a ceasar salad. To this salad, I add blue cheese dressing. Today, it was Rasberry Vinegrette, quite by accident.
I'm hooked.

A night of very vivid dreams, two I remember in particular.
In what my mind identified as Peidmont park, out for a hike with my family. My mother has to use the restroom, which is up ahead at point 17 (we are at about point 3). So, we start walking at a brisk pace. It starts raining. And raining. And rains harder. As the rain gets worse, we keep walking and then climbing up steps and through this towerlike structure of planking, where the trail becomes more of a ropes course, eventually becoming lengths of suspended rope (one overhead, one to stand on) over what in the dream looks to be acers of digital forest (the trees are more a pixel pattern of shades of green than trees). And it's still raining.
The next dream also involved my mother, strangely enough. I was at home, and for some reason my mother and I were outside at night, sitting in the driveway. A possom comes up to us, and starts acting like a cat. We talk to it, it responds, and begins following us around, climbing up into our laps, etc. Eventually, I take it inside to feed it. I get out a plate and put two slices of bread on it, and set it down. The possum instantly takes the first peice of bread and tries to hide it in the pot cabnet. I scold it, put the bread back on the plate, and tell it to eat. While it does so, I fill a bowl with water, and set it down for it. During this time, the possom has caught and killed a mouse, and is busy eating its head, very bloodily. When I set down the water bowl, the possom washes its front paws and nose in the bowl to get the blood off. It goes back to eating the bread, as I watch the blood slowly dissapate into the bowl of water.
All I know is that I'm still tired, and I'm thinking about a nap.

Remember the old "infinate monkeys at infinate typewriters" theory? Look what came up on the 374th click on my username:

Hmmm... 24 hours and seven minutes between posts. I sense a touch of To be, or not to be - that is the question; whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them. To die, to sleep - no more - and by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep - To sleep - perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub. Oh, wait a minute... Over there.. in the Google Ads! AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHH!

- Posted by wendell to Metatalk

GeneFilter - a Metafilter By-product

Shades of feelings my heart denies
bathing in shadows hidden in the eyes of lies
my glowing future now these embers burn
uncanny restlessness- but ask me what I've
learned...
- Cruxshadows, Heaven's Gaze

Today, when I came home, the cat wanted in the house. I couldn't let her in, of course, because she's not allowed in the house yet. But she wanted in. It was... depressing. Particularly because shes so damned cute. It was annoying however, in that shes a black cat, who streached out on a dark walkway, at night. Invisible cat, anyone?

Which Hellsing character are you?

A night of truly fucked up dreams. A dream of a sort of Sci-Fi event, with Wil Wheaton (aka, the Crusher brat from TNG) as the guest star. Found him to be very personable, happy to deal with the swarms of people who kept asking him questions.
The whole thing seemed to take place in a weird mix between my middle school gym and the GSU campus. Something caused us to evacuate the gym, and Wil and I and several Rampway and other campus people ended up sitting around outside, talking. Wil started telling really bad jokes, but we all laughed anyway.
I remember getting to pat him on the head, and him laughing. Very strange.
So yeah. No Anthro today. Should be a nice day.

The rain is still coming down in sheets. The streets of town are flooded, as they are want to do when it rains for longer than three hours. I listen to the rain, its stacatto uneven punctuated by the sharp rise in pace whenever the wind blows. My neck and sinuses ache dully, but nothing else beyond that.
I keep starting sentances, but each time I do it just seems so pointless, so bitchy, that I just have to stop and delete it. There is nothing really to say except what I am saying now. That there is nothing to say.
Godfuckingchrist. Rambling like that, you'd think I was a writer. I just seem to come up against this wall every so often, and the rain is only making it worse. Not quite anger at people, but more than frustration. But its a selfish emotion. I'm going out of town this weekend, and as such, Erik is going to be alone this weekend. I feel guilty, and annoyed that his roomie wolnt be home enough to take care of the dogs so he could go somewhere he wants to go. But what can I do? Nothing, and it upsets me.
I'm just sort of here, now, listening to music, and the rain. It's not true, what they say. The Devil is not just an angel in bondage. The Devil is inside each and every one of us, and his intentions are our own best ones. Its only that his way of getting results hurts people.

New glasses this morning. They look very much like the old ones, but narrower. As with every time I get new glasses, its taking me a while to get used to them, especially to ignore the frames inside my vision range. I almost went with something very differnt, but I decided against it as that the frames were very fragile, without the elastic hinges that I'm used to. All in all, I'm just happy to be able to see again without a head ache.
So after I got my glasses, a process that took from 10:45 till 12:30, I went back home, and slept until 3:30. Was nice. I feel infinitely refreshed, and awake, dispite the fact that I am still sick. My right sinuses are still clogged solid, and when I can get anything out its bloody and or green, but I take that to mean I'm getting better. I'm worried that my ear will get infected if it doesnt unclog soon, but other than that, seems to be doing well.
It started raining on my way to campus, therefore I didn't get to see the usuall cast of characters today. Hope that everyone is doing ok, and is safe and well during this storm. Me, I'm on campus, watching it get progressivly darker outside as evening comes too quickly even for this time of year.
And now it is dark, the world outside obscured by the glare of the florecent lights on the windows. I wonder if it is still raining outside?

Another scene from my movie yet to be written/stilborn screenplay in the process, this time a bit more prose form than before.

The cross bar is made of metal tube, about an inch in diameter, supported by a length of chain run through its center which connects to two latching hooks affixed in the ceiling above. The arms are twisted through nearly a full rotation around the length of the bar, to where they are held at the ends by nylon strapping. It is the shear tension of the bindings and the tendons in the arms and shoulders, which make the rest of it possible.
From the shoulder, the spine makes a graceful curve, like a swan dive turned on its end, holding the entire body from there down into this tension strung arch. Knowing this is unsustainable, for any length of time really, there is a steel rod, perhaps a piece of rebar, bent into the exact curve, and affixed at neck, crossbar, waist, and ankles. Even when the strength of shoulders gives out, the body will not sag, Christ-like, on its metal cross. It will stay where it is, as it is meant to be.
Already there are half a dozen small wounds, most of them abrasions or lacerations, but nothing deep, nor actively bleeding. They've been meticulously cleaned, disinfected, and allowed to form neat, even scabs of their own. What bruises there are, mainly around the wrists and along the left side of the face, are superficial and barely show in this light.
It’s a fish tank sort of light, fluorescent, but filtered to a watery green blue by some unseen source. The light is still, the air is still. It’s the perfect light to show the pale skin, and the stark contrast of blood, an oozing black substance in this alien sound stage.
On a small folding sideboard, someone has neatly arranged several trays of instruments with the same neat and ominous seriousness of a dentist’s office before a visit. Each tray has its own blotter of surgical paper, nearly the same color as the light, as a back drop for the various metal tools arrayed on them. A gloved hand reaches out, hovering over them, and then picks a small, wickedly curved scalpel, looking to be from a dissection kit of very high quality.
The eyes are open now, watching the blade and the body attached to it move closer. Anticipation, is it, or is that expression fear? Its always so hard to tell.
And so the work begins, the arrangement of each slice like a brush stroke, each network of dripping lines forming alien letters on the parchment of flesh. The first series, down the chest, across the breastbones, down each leg, across each arm, and then the next, each iteration smaller, more precise.
In the beginning, there are only small sounds, half way between pleasure and pain. It is only when the real work begins that the screams start.

There, hopefully one day I'll work all this into something coherant.

Today has been a strange day. I got to see a side of humanity that, in all honesty, sort of gives me the creeps. Let me set the stage for you. Our local KMart, one of the last left open, is located in a relativly middle lower class neighborhood. Its a primarily hispanic neighborhood, not that that has anything to do with things, but you get the idea. Low rent, high turn over, low english litteracy level, etc. It was announced last week that it too would be closing, like all the other KMarts. So, starting yesterday, they are selling everything at discounts around 10%-30% off. The store is packed, people are buying things, etc.
Now, there are two entrances to this store, one on the upper level , one on the lower level. Both have A security guard on them. Today, someone began setting fires in the store, in various locations, primarily in areas of expensive merchandise. Of course, after the first one was extinguished, the second one, back in electronics, caused the clearing of the store. The obvious conclusion: arson. Motivation: cause panic, and provide cover to steal items. Its logical, yes. But its... incomprehensible really.
People are animals, but with less sense, and a horrible facination with the material but inconsequential.
Its disturbing, really, to see that people are willing to endanger lives to get what they want for free. And what is worse, the fact that they were endangering lives never occured to them, more than likely. Its more sad than anything else.

A picture in grey, Dorian Gray
Just me, by the sea
And I felt like a star
I thought the world could go far
If they listened to what I said
- U2, Ocean

Other than that, today was ok. I worked on some stuff, wrote a paper, started research for another. Pretty much getting things under control, dealing with school and all. I've got a paper and an exam left in Plato, a paper and an ME report left in Anthro, two exams in Finance, two exams in Latin, and a project and final in Marketing. It sounds like allot but its not. Got to get an online survey up, thats the largest ammount of work. So, there we go.

Life, gah. Yep.

So my glasses broke today, and as such, are sitting a little askew on my face. Its sort of a strange thing, and keeps throwing me off.

and in this place, can you reassure me
with a touch, a smile – while the cradle’s burning

Drove home, listening to "The Reaper" and thinking about all the things the song entails. Love, death, freedom, obligation, necessity. Things I am sure were never meant to be gotten from the song, but are there none the less. The cold air, the sharp stars in the sky, clear and beautiful, the quarter moon looking down with her half face onto the night of the earth.

man i’m losing sound and sight
of all those who can tell me wrong from right
when all things beautiful and bright
sink in the night

Sometimes I wonder what is waiting for me at the end of this progression. But its better not to know, nor to wonder, I think. Some things are better left to be found when you get to them.

So yeah, here we go, another winter. Waiting for the Shortest Day, now, to mark the half way between the Thick and the Thin. Winter, which I used to loathe, which now I love. Strange, how things are like that.

From the pain come the dream
From the dream come the vision
From the vision come the people
From the people come the power
From this power come the change

I wonder, if one day, I'll understand this.