Girl Called Me A Skank The Other Day...

“If I Could Choose A Super Power…”

If I could choose a super power, I would choose the ability to fly. In retrospect, it’s not really super, or even a real power. It means I can just defy gravity at will. Which would still be freaking cool. I can go anywhere, anytime, without anything getting in the way…except planes, but it would be kind of hard to miss those. Also, I wouldn’t even go that high because the lack of oxygen and I wouldn’t stay too low because people going crazy. There’s one ultimate reason why I chose flight, so I can get away from people. Some person comes up to talk to me that I don’t want to then SWOOSH! I despawned! Of course I know some people who can despawn and respawn. It’s so weird, just turn your head slightly and BAM! there’s a person standing there. Being able to fly would also bring forth the advantages of pulling off many a number of pranks. T.P.ing would become that much easier, egging from above, and it would literally rain dogs and cats. I know it’s mean, but I still laugh. Then again, it would be cool if I had telekinesis because everything could fly at my will. Hmm…I think I’ll go with telekinesis. What super power would you choose?

>> Would someone be willing to develop a kind of anti-grav belt for me? Oh yeah, gots to thank my bro for helping me find this prompt. Also, yes, I didn’t update yesterday, because it was Memorial Day and I really didn’t want to. For those of you who don’t know yet, I have added a picture to my profile. That’s me giving two thumbs up…kind of. Yes, those are thumbs, and they are mine. My right thumb (to your left) can’t bend at the joint and is in all reality smaller than my left thumb. It also can’t reach any higher than shown, well, I have to force it up by some other means. I can also do this cool popping-joint-out thing…you’d have to see it to understand. For the most part I can do anything normal, except bend it. So far there has been one person who has entered the music/lyric contest……now I know there is someone else, let’s see if I can’t get them to enter. That’s all for now.

Six Inches Tall And I Still Find A Way To Rule The Universe

“If I Was Six Inches Tall For A Day…”

If I was six inches tall for a day then I never remembered it. I’ve forgotten a lot of things in the past, but I’m pretty sure I would have remembered being six inches tall for a day. Then again, it might have been so horrifying that I made myself forget. In that case, I’m going to try my best to not remember what it was like to be six inches tall. Of course, if I was six inches tall, then that would mean I could also grow larger! Which in turn means I can do anything! But I can’t remember how I did that, so…I can’t. That would have been interesting if I could have done anything. I’d gone and done…uh…that’s quite the puzzler. I don’t know what I would do, maybe secure the fact that someday I will actually have a legitimate child! Why that’s so important, I will never know. Or even create super rabbits! They hop, skip, and sprinkle badgers on their Mice Crispies. Though, I think it would be just best if I were to stay normal……if “normal” is what you’ll call me. Maybe that was my original decision when I was six inches tall, ruling the universe with a iron left fist, and riding rabbits in hyperdimesional wormholes. Well, after realizing my fatal decision, I’m going to go eat a popsicle to make myself feel better.

>> My bro helped me find this prompt. Went to my cousin’s graduation today, more people in her graduating class than the total number of people in my school. It actually wasn’t that long. Oh yeah, I saw the new Star Wars on……Monday(?)……and it didn’t suck. It was better than Episodes I and II, but still not as good as Episode IV, V, and VI. I’m pretty sure that’s all for now, so have fun over the weekend and other extend periods of time.

The 3 AM Oddyssey

“If I received a phone call at 3 a.m.…”

If I received a phone call at 3 a.m., I would say something along the lines of;
“Yes Mr. President! I will be on my way as soon as I can find my pants and the batmobile!” And then proceed to hang up. Of course disgruntled by this call, I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep and I couldn’t have the satisfaction of beating the person’s face in. I don’t have caller ID (nor probably never), so I’d try star 69, call the number and once someone answers I’d something like;
“Mr. President, I can’t find my pants! So, I just left at high speeds in the batmobile but now I can’t find your house! Now, I think I’m in Canada, but with all the lederhosen it’s hard to find my way.” Then, hang up again. Feeling a little better, I might drink some juice because no one would know. My family is a bunch of juice Nazis just so you know. Then again, if I recognize the phone number I would just go hunting at night. Since I know the person, I know where they live, and many…interesting…incidents will proceed. First, the person is obviously awake, so I’d ring the doorbell with the classic bag-o-poop on fire. While they’re dealing with this I’ll come up yelling “FIRE!!!” and shoot them with a squirt gun…full of a certain warm liquid. It’s sterile. At the present moment, they’d occupied with just being shot and don’t know how to react, I will quickly run into their house while the door is unlocked. Toilet paper will quickly be dispensed about the house, who’s going to expect someone to t.p. your house on the inside? I would also find some pants because I couldn’t find any earlier. I’d just where the pants on my head and don the name…Pantsman…or…Manpants. In conclusion, we can conclude I would just go crazy if I were to get a call at 3 a.m. Now, that may sound bad, but not really, I’d feel more sorry for the person who tried to call me at any other outrageous time.

>> Thanks to my bro for this prompt. Seriously though, I would probably do this. Now it’s a matter of who wants to test it. I have just looked through all my comments and email, Giggles has named my possible future daughter, Alicia, and someone has entered their subscription for the song names and bands. Now, it isn’t too late to enter as well, you can still tie, or somehow impress to give you the brownie points. A lot of those songs were easy, but I made it that way, so it appears next time I’ll just have to make it a whole lot harder. Remember, ANY resources which you can get a hold of. Anyway, in recent news upon my sad life, I’ve just read to a little over half of The Odyssey, not the cheap little books for little children tales or lazy bums, but the over 300 page Odyssey. It is much better than the cheap ripoffs you get in TV shows or presentations made by the TV channel. Also, if you ever want know about a hundred ways to say “had sex” read Greek mythology, I think the funniest I’ve seen so far is “accomplished in the deed of love.” Oh, good times. I may not have a journal up tomorrow, so maybe on Saturday (May 28).

Lousy Punks And Their Loud Music

“Memories From Music”

I want a girl with a short skirt and a long jacket. Despite all my rage I’m just a rat in a cage. Killing in the name of! But in the end, it doesn’t even matter. ‘Cause I’m just a teenage dirtbag baby. If I die before I wake, at least in heaven I can skate. I’m so happy ‘cause today, I’ve found my friends, they’re in my head. I want to be the minority, I don’t need your authority, down with the moral majority. Soy un perdedor, I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me? Say it ain’t so, I will not go, turn the lights off, carry me home. If you want to destroy my sweater, hold this thread as I walk away. Feeling like a freak on a leash. Is there anyone out there ‘cause it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. Alright, already, we’ll float on. It just takes some time, little girl, you’re in the middle of the ride. Vindicated, I am selfish, I am wrong, I am right, I swear I’m right, I swear I knew it all along. There goes my hero, watch him as he goes, there goes my hero, he’s ordinary. I, wish you were here. Lovin’, is what I got, I said remember that. I don’t want to wastes my time, become another casualty of society, I’ll never fall in line, become another victim of your conformity. I may be dumb, but I’m not a dweeb, I’m just a sucker with no self esteem. Let me go on like a blister in the sun, let me go on big hands I know you’re the one. ‘Cause I’m mister brightside. I…cry…when angels deserve to die…

>> Every sentence is a different line from a different song each from a different band. I just started typing down stuff that crossed my mind with the music I like. I put a lot of bands and songs down, so I’m pretty sure I forgot a couple good ones. Now, as much as I would like to tell what line goes to what song and band, I won’t. I’m going to see who can name the most correctly. You may use any resource that is available to you. Please name them in respective order, or it will be really hard to tell if you actually got it right. There are 24 lines there, so that means there are 24 different songs. Just number them and if you don’t know it, just skip it. If you can name the most, you get so many brownie points, there is not proper adjective to describe how many you will get. You of course can turn these brownie points in for cookies or something. Oh yes, if you post them, other people will just copy all your hard work, so email them to me (it’s sad if you can’t find my email address). I’ll give you……until June 11th to get your guesses in. Afterward, I’ll post all the songs and stuff. Have joy!

Carpe Diem!

“With My Own Two Hands…”

With my own two hands I have done lots. If they weren’t my own two hands, I’d be a little worried along with many other people. How creepy would that be? Just walking along then suddenly without warning, I take your hands away from you, tell you I’ll be right back, and continue to conduct an orchestra of trombones. Then again, I haven’t done too much with my two hands, it’s either one or the other. I sure as heck can’t hit a baseball with a bat, so that’s out of the question. I do play a lot of video games, but even then my hands are doing something completely different simultaneously. Whoa, I just realized I can do all sorts of things without thinking about or the knowledge that I can’t actually perform that task.
“You can’t do that in reality!”
“…You’re right…”
It’s like a bug climbing a mountain, it doesn’t know it, but it’s still climbing it. Afterall, when you get to the top of the mountain, look around, find a bug, and ask how that bug got there. It’s insane…not in the membrane because then you would know you can’t do a certain task. Wait, it’s not insane because you don’t know it, it’s perfectly normal to you. You perceive it in your mind to be normal, others see through their eyes as impossible. My two hands have typed this, and come to the realization that they are now tired and would like the comfort of the mouse and pocket.

>> Guess what? I didn’t need Mocoy for this prompt! All I needed was my brother! Who from now on is going to be called…my bro! Did no one count up the journals up to the last one? You should and you’ll get the answer. I have an inactive audience (audience of one or two, still an audience), you won’t even try to name my possibly future daughter, bums. But I won’t give up! Yet!

Count Up The Journals, You'll Get The Answer

“If I Were A Candy”

If I were a candy, I’d be even more paranoid than I am now. As I’d always have to worry about being eaten by some obnoxiously loud, sticky 4 year old. Or just being eaten for that matter. So, I’d be sour apple flavored, as no one likes that flavor because it tastes horrible. Now, if I were just some kind of food, I’d be Lucky Charms, magically delicious. Even Campbell’s Soup, Mmm, Mmm, good. Okay, that last one was dumb. The candy I wouldn’t want to be the most is a Kit Kat, because I don’t want a people breaking a piece off of me before I get eaten whole. It’s like being eaten by a dinosaur. You feeling everything until finally you just die. So, I figure I’d be a poisonous candy. Like, filled with tobacco so people will die slowly the same way they ate me. It also not to eat so much and not be all fatty. It should be an occasional thing, not a meal. Amazing, I sound like the stereotypical parents in a bad sitcom. Strange, well, I guess it’s not so strange since I’ve grown up with only public TV. So, upon recollecting what I’ve said, I’d want to be sour apple, Kit Kat-esque, tobacco filled, and the size of your thumb. Then, I’d be called fun-size Apple Kats, they kind of taste like apples!

>> What a sweet journal prompt. Thanks again to Mocoy. Looking back at what kind of candy I’d be, I am one messed up person. Then again, the answer to the prompt certainly wasn’t 42, so I had to come up with something. Unless there’s a candy bar named “42” that I don’t know about. The world may never know. I see how it is, no one is going to even try to name my possibly future daughter, fine.

Cthulhu Is The End, And The Ender Will Save Us

“A Story Character I Would Like To Meet”

A story character I would like to meet would be Cthulhu and not die. For those of you who have never heard of this mystical god, the best you can interpret his name to be pronounced is “Kuh-thu-loo,” but no one knows for sure as the writer is dead. The writer was H.P. Lovecraft and he wrote all lot of short horror stories, short, but the stories will leave you wide eyed and a baseball bat in your hand at the end. Cthulhu is basically considered to be an elder god in a deep slumber waiting to be awoken by his followers. He’s green, has wings, little tentacle thingies coming from his mouth, and is freaking huge. Also, even while he is asleep, he has affects on people with sensitive minds in their dreams. I’d like to meet him and not die because then he’d be my buddy, and he can loan me some favors. For those of you who don’t want to go out and read the short story “The Call of Cthulhu,” I’ll just say I want to meet Andrew Wiggin from the Ender series of books. Knowing most people though, they also have never read those books…*sigh*…go read it, get confused, think, and read it again, and understand everything. Hmm…I can’t really say anymore characters without anyone not knowing who they are, so I’d like to meet me. That would be interesting, okay, not really, but still…

>> Seriously, go read Ender’s Game, it’s a thinker and well written. The Ender series was written by Orson Scott Card and can be found in the Science Fiction section. H.P. Lovecraft was a good writer, especially for being in about the 1920’s, stories are disturbing but they’re really good. You may also find Lovecraft stories in the Science Fiction section, but be careful, in the books there may be stories by other people with spinoffs of Lovecraft originals (like Stephen King, which is almost an insult). Looking back at this, I realize how much of a loser I am, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Rufus, In The Back Of The Throat, RRR

“If I Started A New Life”

I’d raise it of course. It’s my offspring afterall. And I sure wouldn’t start an old one, there’s a reason it’s old and that’s because it was boring. I’d probably name it Rufus if it will be a male, and if female, I’d name it………I don’t know, uber-duber-brownie points for the first girl to come up with a good female name for a 50/50 chance daughter! Though, I may have to leave that up to my wife, whoa……I sure hope I have a wife by then, that would be bad. “I’ve had my first child and no wife!!.” “How was it born?” “Beats me.” Although, cloning is a factor and that’s just creepy. A littler version of me and female, I’d be ugly, kind of like now. Or even worse, a new life could just spawn off of me. Just sploop, and there’s weird little creature thing just walking around and whistling. You’d think I’d notice something spawning off of me, but I’d probably just think of it as…something off of me and use it to my full advantage. “Rufus! Attack!” Aw man, that’d be so friggin’ awesome! It would get my…I don’t know, but it’d get something! A new life, a new hope, a new way to piss people off by having a creature piss on them.

>> That prompt was kind of deep, so I decided to be shallow about it. What can you do? Again, I must thank Mocoy for the prompt, as I……yeah, I’m lazy. It still would be cool to have some kind of creature to be a little…creature.

Teenage Physics Ninja!

“If You Could Rearrange Anything, What Would You?”

I’d rearrange the laws of physics. Why? Why not? That would be the kickest-buttest thing in the out-freaking-standing world! Oh yeah, they’d only apply to me, because that kind of power in the wrong hands can lead to all sorts of destruction…hehehehehehehe. Can you imagine at the end of every law of physics with the line “this does not apply to [You cannot view the first name] Laufert.” I can, because I’m just stupid like that. Maybe my friends, people who fear me, and people who will soon fear me can imagine it, but that’s their own mentality problem. Revelation! I’d be like some kind of super ninja. An uber ninja! That works well together, German and Japanese culture, but it sounds cool. Wouldn’t you like to be an uber ninja too? Too bad, my laws of physics, but if you’re real nice maybe you’ll be included as well. This is only a dream though, to dream, to sleep, to wake up to the horror that is reality. Eff it. I’d rearrange it so reality would be that of dreams. You say this would be a problem once evil people have this power, but that can be overcome by the collective will of everyone in a room and their dreams. And giant rabbits will roam with the holy-hand-grenade toting squirrels.

>> I have to thank……let me think of a name……Giggles, for this prompt. Made me think really hard, you try it, it’s hard. Ironically enough, I’ll be surprised if a girl talks to me, but Giggles (and Mocoy as well) have remained my friends……my world has nearly imploded on itself. I must comment on the journal “Where From Here” (two journals back), because I have actually tried the tortilla with peanut butter and honey and it doesn’t suck. I have also put chocolate chips on a peanut butter-honey sandwich which also wasn’t too bad. I suggest at least trying the tortilla combination. I have updated for missing yesterday, so don’t piss and moan.

I'd Do A Handstand

“What Would I Do If Gravity Suddenly Turned Off?”

I would suddenly lift off the ground and because I’d probably be in the middle of a step, float endlessly upward. If I were in a room, I’d start making other people float to the top and push off them to wherever I wanted to go. If I am unfortunate enough to be outside, I’d suddenly be screwed. As I would eventually pass out because lack of oxygen, then come to my end…while sleeping. That would just suck, I would want to die another way. Like…not while sleeping. I might take some birds with me, maybe a squirrel, small dog, a cat, and then drop them…wait…stupid gravity not working! It sounds cruel, yes, but I was going to die anyway. Then, again, I would “climb” a tree, hang on, and make it look like I was some kind of ninja. Like in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, I’d be all “Swish! SwaAaAaA!! And scare the crap out of people by flicking sharp, shiny objects at them. There would be no gravity to get in the way…up yours physics! I’d definitely defy as many laws of physics as possible just to have the satisfaction that before I died I messed up as many people’s theories and laws as possible……or impossible.

>> I have to thank Mocoy for this journal prompt as well, Grammar and Composition II is over for me and hopefully many others. So, I need to rewrite some old journals and until then, depend upon my friends because they’re the only ones. Oh yeah, I learned about three days ago, that “left” and “right” had political terms as well. How dumb is that? That’s the dumbest things I’ve ever heard and I want to shoot the person that came up with that idea. Well, anyway, I am literally left handed, and I forgot what the political term for “left” is, but either way, it doesn’t matter to me and I’ll make my own political decisions on what I think is best and not what other people tell me and when the time is appropriate.

To Peanut And BUTTER!

“Where From Here?”

Where not? Anywhere is possible like Pluto, but I wouldn’t want to go there because that place is freaking cold. But now it’s peanut butter-jelly time time. I think I will go to the shiny, organic, peanut butter and put it on wheat bread. Now I’ll add strawberry jelly……hmm………imaginary strawberry jelly! And imaginary wheat bread! Here, we’ll use a tortilla and some honey in the absence of jelly and bread. Use your imaginations and instead of putting two slices together, you roll it up! It’s like a burrito! Except, no beans, cheese, onions, peppers, some kind of meat, and lettuce. Maybe I’ll add chocolate chips! It’s like a Reese’s peanut butter cup except with grain! Oh no! It’s dripping out the back, watch it…slowly…f…a…l…l…t…o…t…h…e…ground there it goes. I’ll have my dog lick it up, she a can hear you eat marshmallows, so I think I won’t have a problem. Now, the question is…where from here? The bathroom! That’s where! You can…stop now…I think you’ve heard enough…STOP!!!

I Forgot, But Is To Love Courage As Well?

“What Is True Courage?”

True courage is staring death in the face and the ability to laugh. To look at conformity and make your own decision, despite what others think. To know you will be seen and look different, yet do it anyway. To show you are crazy and not stupid. To show untold numbers of others your ideas and thoughts without much care (in my case, a number of two). To show them, yet to know when to listen, as that takes more courage to show you can listen to other ideas and not ignore. What is true? We don’t know, we can try to find it, but there are no boundaries unless you make them. To defy is courage. To be able to accept other ideas is the same courage. We can only know that death is true and certain. Death is true, and true courage is to see it and face it, then death is most likely courage as well. So, I can only conclude that facing death is true courage. I can only say so much without losing more to say. Therefore, I must stop now.

>> Wow, I rambled on about nothing there, unless you can see it. Oh, I have to thank my friend…(let me think of a name)…“Mocoy” for the last two journal prompts. I hope she (yes, Mocoy is a girl, you make your own thoughts sickos!) can give me more because I don’t want to retype some old ones that were originally boring. Oh well, I’ve made up for the days I’ve missed, sorry about that again……to whoever.

Ooh shiny! Spleee!

“If I Were A Color, I’d Be…”

If I were a color, I’d be shiny. Yes, that is a color. In fact, is multiple colors I believe, though that would be black wouldn’t it? I am not black, I am caucasian. Yet, I hold the firm belief that crackers can’t rap. That’s not really important at this present moment. I would still be shiny, yes it is a color because you can view in your mind, because it is a term I use to say I feel……special inside. I usually think my clearest, psychoticest, and specialest…specialist?. Many times I may feel a black shiny, or a pitch grey, even maybe an orange shiny. For some reason orange seems like a confused color…maybe even green or purple. I’m confused a lot times, like right now, how the heck am I supposed to know what color? I only type this because it’s the only thing that’s original at the present moment. Then the present becomes the past and into the future I go, but I’m still confused so I’m still stuck in the past. Cosmic. I have to stop doing that, it only makes me more confused and green, wait, no, green means something COMPLETELY different (you don’t want to know) and I am not green. I’m going to stick with orange, yet I still want to be shiny! All other colors seem to not fit right, black is affiliated with darkness, yet is the presence of all colors. White is seen as clean, yet the absence of all colors. Red is anger, yet I seen honor, courage, and bravery also represented by it. Orange seems to be bright and loud, yet almost confused. Yellow, pink, and purple are all “girl” colors…ok, I have nothing for yellow and pink, but purple is considered to be the sign of royalty. I think I’ll stick with shiny because it reflects them all and yet is them all and still is its own. Another sense of overwhelming.

>> You probably noticed in my last journal lots of errors like missing words, this is what happens when you don’t proofread. So, use your imagination and poke fun at me with it, everyone else does. Oh yeah, I should tell you what “green” means, but I’m not going to let society ruin another common word that I would just like to use without some idiot making some dumb remark. I hate those people. How about you? (who am I talking to?)

I Just Want To Be Loved......

“I Thought I Was Right but…”

I thought I was right, but you know, I’m actually left. Though, since the right hemisphere of my brain controls my left side, I’m right. Wait…is that true or not? I just heard from a bunch of people in my class because they’re so trustworthy and smart. Oh well, what can you do? I can’t be right handed, that’s very difficult and I know. Actually, I never thought I was right handed, just that everyone else was screwed up. Turns out I live in a right handed world, that means they’ll be expecting a right hand response, then WHAM! a left hand comes out of nowhere right…I mean left through the trachea! People will soon be taught the unwavering hatred of the lefties with an iron left fist! If you want to be treated well, I suggest you start making left handed AND right handed products. Do you know how annoying it is to everything “backwards”? Of course not! You’re all right handed! You should all try everything left handed to see how it is and then try to make fun of the left handed people. Yeah, lets see you do everything backwards! Lousy right handed inventors, why couldn’t they be ambidextrous?

>> Funny story actually, in middle school in the shop class there was a pencil sharpener (a sharpener you have to crank to work) that seemed odd and out of place and everyone had trouble with it. Well, people asked the shop teacher what was wrong with it and he responded that it was a left handed pencil sharpener! Of course, not having the ability to run a pencil sharpener backwards, the kids in my class always asked me to run it for them. Eventually, I just made them learn to deal with it. Okay, it’s not that funny, but meh. Other than that pencil sharpener, I have yet to run into any more left handed products. Yet, I can still shoot a right handed bolt action rifle really well, hm. Oh yes, sorry about not updating lately to my readers, yes all two of you, I’ve been busy with schoolwork and such. More soon I hope.

Two Thumbs Up...Kinda!

“A Time I Spent At The Hospital”

I’ve spent many a time at in the hospital. All the times I’ve been there it was for some stupid reason not worthy of a story (no where close to a song). I’ve been for just being sick, breaking my thumb, bit by a dog, and not breathing right. The sickness…well, that’s pretty obvious and dumb. I broke my thumb when I was in the 7th grade…while playing soccer. Yes, soccer. I was trying to the ball and a kid came up to me, something happened with me falling and landing on my thumb. That’s how it got broken…pretty weak. Then, I got bit by a friend’s dog. I’ve been over to his house multiple times and knew his dog…just not well enough. Well, we were watching Wayne’s World and my friend (we’ll call him Bake) went downstairs. The dog was close to me and I was petting him and I kind of moved close to him…too close…and he bit me in the cheek right (your left) of my mouth, so now I have a dimple thingy. Bake and I didn’t panic and just washed it and eventually I went home. My parents soon found out (took them awhile for a big hole in my cheek) and took me to the hospital. Most recently I went because I had a hard time breathing. It was like a fiery claw was grabbing my chest on the inside. Every time I tried to breathe in a sharp pain shot up my chest. It was like the claws would hold, then drive a dagger up and I had to force it down again to feel the slightest bit of comfort. The doctors seemed to have a hard time finding out what it was, but they found out somehow. It turned out to be called “viral plureasy” (pretty sure I screwed up that name pretty well) and gave me some pills. It was the pills or a shot……in the butt. Now, I’m fine and all is well and I’ll probably find another dumb reason to go to the hospital.
>> If you’ve ever looked at my right thumb, it’s pretty messed up, and that was before I broke it. I can’t bend it and it baffled the hand doctor, which is bad I think. Bake is a cool guy, I don’t blame him, it was my fault, he’s dog cool as well. Also, the sickness I had is pronounced “vie-rull plur-uh-see.” It sucks.

It's Not Only A Mere Minute

“The Longest Minuter Ever Spent.”

Through the eyes of the beholder, they see and perceive. The denim worn in, a faded blue, the bottoms tattered and falling. A streak of white paint stroked across the right pocket and the knees almost fully consumed in a white blur. A shirt of flames and strings hung onto the scant shoulders arms. Crimson highlighted the grey shirt with sleeves extending to the digits and a hood clinging to the neck. The neck hidden by the crouching cranium full of thought and perceptions yet to be discovered. Hair that is brown reaches the to ends of the ears, the beginnings of the eyes, and into the gaping crimson cloth on the back. The eyes watch their own and make perceptions like all the rest, hoping for some clarity. The face is spackled with brown dots with red pits of agony spaced randomly. A knee hobbles up and down with the progressions rushing into the ears disquised under the hair. Socks shining white appear above the shoe and into the tunnel of denim. Shoes of black and brown lined with white seem to stick to the socks as one bounces and the other stretches out as if to leave any moment. Pale is the color of the hands that spread onto the surface of the table with only fingers showing. Black cord reaches from the pocket to the ear and seemingly turns to white reaching across the head to provide music for shutting out the world. Is it for shutting out the world? For entertainment? Is it any different when others just zone out and stare intently? How do you know you aren’t being watched as well? Being perceived as something you may very well not be? Why don’t you find out? Is everyone scared of mere thoughts transcending across other’s heads? Or lack there of? Are you so certain you are better? To think so is arrogance, but not to is horrible because low self-esteem? Why is it “self” and not others, don’t they matter as well? Apparently, the majority decides, and the majority is always right…

>> I have no freaking clue what this is about. Or how it relates to the prompt. I kind of look back at this and scare myself. I just tried something new a friend suggested, if it has meaning, that’s great, have a cookie. If it doesn’t………have a cookie anyway. What do you think? (seriously, I need to know because I’m out of normal journals)

Wars Do Not Make One Great

“A Real Champion Is…”

A real champion is someone who doesn’t need trophies, they need the sense of accomplishment…blah blah blah……that’s boring. No one cares what a real championis. If you do, ask a coach or a teacher. We just want to know what real is. Or, in fact maybe what a hypothermic-dynamic, uber-charged, fully-auto, squirrel-launching, mind-boggling melting, nose hair singing, ear-wax candling, left handed, spork defying, shiny, and all at the comfort of your favorite sofa………I forgot, but doesn’t it sound cool? Also, available to you right handed people. All in all, a real champion is probably just G.I. Joe to fulfill your intensely burning curiousity.

>> Also, available in a variety of colors and shapes. Oh dear, it has appeared that I have run out of new journals. I think I’ll back and find all the ones I didn’t use and just rewrite those. This will be interesting.

Happy Pine-Sol

“A Recipe For A Happy Life.”

If we’re talking metaphorically here, then I don’t feel like talking about that topic at the present moment. Instead, I’ll discuss the aerodynamic velocity of an African swallow while carrying a coconut. Unfortunately, I don’t know enough about physics or birds to do such. So, perhaps the probability of a meteorite made of frozen, grapefruit scented Pine-Sol impacting the bright side of the moon so hard, it turns pink from such an improbability. Well, somewhere along the line in the future (>> where else? The past?), I’ll give about 5 years, we will launch all uneeded junk into space. Pine-Sol will of course have its own space shuttle. The shuttle will crash into an asteroid (in the asteroid belt) hurling Pine-Sol everywhere. At such high speeds it will pass all other planets when pulled in by the gravitational force of the sun. With so much Pine-Sol hurling around it is bound to hit the moon. Now, the improbability is so great, that it will turn the moon pink, making is a 1 in 1 probability.

>> I seriously have no idea what I was talking about. Though, the grapefruit scented Pine-Sol is pretty funny to think about. Come on, its “grapefruit scented.” Who’s idea was this? I can see it now.
“Why does your house smell like a grapefruit?”
“I just got done cleaning it.”
“…Did you clean it with a grapefruit?”
“Nooo……”
“I think you left a grapefruit somewhere.”
Besides, it’s fun to say “Grapefruit scented Pine-Sol!” in a loud, proud, booming voice to everyone in a 20 foot radius. I just realized, I’m running out of journals, that means soon I’ll have to do something else, now I’m sad.

Mind Wars

“If We Could Read Each Other’s Minds.”

We would all be dead. You may think we could solve each other’s problems because we know what they’re thinking. I know what some people think and I still don’t have a clue on how to deal with their stupidity (>> or just at all). We’d all be dead because our heads would explode with so much going on in everybody else’s head. It would cause lots of anger as well, so other than mind melting spontaneous combustion, we would all kill each other. Though, we would know it’s coming, but then they would know we know and probably go crazier. Also, if people knew what was going on in my mind they would die of absolute horror and insanity. Seriously, my friends don’t even want to know what I think.

>> Kind of a grim perspective, but its also kind of realistic. I’m actually surprised at how many friends I actually have. Maybe it is because they don’t know what I think and my whole thought process. I should start saying everything I think and test out on people who think they are my friends…hmm…I’ve another sociological test.

My Hip!

“Heart Troubles at School.”

My heart is perfectly fine. Everybody else’s heart is a different matter. Though, they don’t matter much, so thery’re hearts can decide to attack all they want. They’re hearts can fall, crack, break, jump, skip, stop, and beat incessantly for all I care. The heart is deceitful above all things and is beyond cure. I’ll stay with my mind, its tarp as a shack. I mean…skippy as a bunny. Now, if we’re talking metaphorically and not literally, then it’s the same as above.

>> Don’t worry, everybody’s heart is made of the same matter, their hearts are just a different ordeal. Wait, this was supposed to be at school………there’s no difference. Is it just me? Or are these journals getting tinier and tinier? I blame the wide rule that is my paper.