l'enfer, c'est les autres.

my ebook of unseen academicals has NO FOOTNOTES.
i sit down to a nice bar of chocolate and my terry pratchett, only to have my dreams of silent rumbling laughter (giggle jiggle, for those of you in the know) and warm melt-in-my-mouth chocolate goodness dashed at the very first line. the very first one.
a little asterisk after a seemingly-ordinary phrase (It was midnight in Ankh-Morpork's Royal Art Museum*) that mocks me with its promise of more. ...what royal art museum? art by royalty? royalty as subjects of art? or perhaps there's no real connection at all between the royalty and the art. perhaps some little old queen just inaugurated it once, a long time ago. maybe the wind flew up and revealed her yellow polka dot panties as she did it, resulting in a tremendous scandal. maybe she wasn't wearing panties at all. maybe it's performance art. if so, was there a butt double? maybe there was once a shootout there, a bit like the one at the guggenheim in the international. maybe.
what was terry pratchett trying to tell me, damn it?
whatever it is, i. is. wanting. to. know.
even the next line (Glenda sleeps in an ancient iron bed.*). there are so many possibilities for interesting stories about beds that i don't even know how to express in words how i feel about the lack of said accompanying footnote. it breaks my heart a little, that. it really really does.
someone,
someone (THIS person) shall have to answer for this.

more later.

bah. grumble, grumble.

s'pose i should post something, what with this spate of blog-rejuvenation happening all around.

Personality Disorder Test Results Paranoid 38% Schizoid 66% Schizotypal 66% Antisocial 50% Borderline 54% Histrionic 34% Narcissistic 54% Avoidant 30% Dependent 22% Obsessive-Compulsive 30%

Take Free Personality Disorder Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

Author Note:I don't think Schizoid personality is a valid disorder (read), some of the smartest people in history were schizoid because they occupied a remote end of the intelligence bell curve. Schizotypal personality can encompass highly original thinkers as well as totally insane people so I think it's a flawed type. I think the remaining eight disorders are generally valid.

Disorder Info:

Eccentric Personality Disorders: Paranoid, Schizoid, Schizotypal.

Individuals with these disorders often appear odd or peculiar.

1. Paranoid Personality Disorder - individual generally tends to interpret the actions of others as threatening.

2. Schizoid Personality Disorder - individual generally detached from social relationships, and shows a narrow range of emotional expression in various social settings.

3. Schizotypal Personality Disorder - individual is uncomfortable in close relationships, has thought or perceptual distortions, and peculiarities of behavior.

Dramatic Personality Disorders: Antisocial, Borderline, Histrionic, and Narcissistic

Individuals with these disorders have intense, unstable emotions, distorted self-perception, and/or behavioral impulsiveness.

1.Antisocial Personality Disorder - individual shows a pervasive disregard for, and violation of, the rights of others.

2.Borderline Personality Disorder - individual shows a generalized pattern of instability in interpersonal relationships, self-image, and observable emotions, and significant impulsiveness.

3. Histrionic Personality Disorder - individual often displays excessive emotionality and attention seeking in various contexts. They tend to overreact to other people, and are often perceived as shallow and self-centered.

4.Narcissistic Personality Disorder - individual has a grandiose view of themselves, a need for admiration, and a lack of empathy that begins by early adulthood and is present in various situations. These individuals are very demanding in their relationships.

Anxious Personality Disorders: Avoidant, Dependent, Obsessive-Compulsive

Individuals with these disorders often appear anxious or fearful.

1.Avoidant Personality Disorder - individual is socially inhibited, feels inadequate, and is oversensitive to criticism

2.Dependent Personality Disorder - individual shows an extreme need to be taken care of that leads to fears of separation, and passive and clinging behavior.

3.Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder - individual is preoccupied with orderliness, perfectionism, and control at the expense of flexibility, openness, and efficiency.

--

i'm odd and peculiar. not surprising in the least. i should also point out at this juncture that i have a red nose and exams in 2 days.

.

the rest of the crazy bunch - yes, all of you. i want you to break down the crazy and let me know what's what by taking this: http://similarminds.com/personality_tests.html.

-

oh, and i should mention that i ran across this on shreena's blog, who is a follower. i'm not quite sure why she is (because almost nobody reads this blog, including easily-bored I), but much appreciated neverthless. (i hope it wasn't an accident =D). also, i hereby publicly confess my love for chick flicks and romance. general angry emo appearance of this blog aside, there is a girly girl here, playing dress-up, putting on make-up, and smudging said make-up when there's a sad scene in a movie on. i cook, bake, sing, dance, do crafts, giggle, and thoroughly and enjoy cutting people's hair. but that could just be the scissors, knives, and general abundance of sharp edges. shhh.

.

alright, that's enough now.

.

.

currently: sniffling, surrounded by a mound of used tissues.

listening: fez / being born - u2, because i'm giving them a second chance, and only for you.

.

ps: and yes, dots are there because i couldn't fix the damn formatting. call me technologically incompetent, but it serves the purpose.

there is a hair on my nose (as the girl makes a noise somewhere behind)

hello.

i'm kind of having writer's block. write about that, you say? but its so very hard to type. concentrate, m. concentrato. concentrating. so. here goes: humpty dumpty is sitting on the fucking wall, people. get fucking over it.

now, i can't help but think that if i had glasses i know what i'd do. i'd drink beer with the boys knowing it's waiting for me to come home.

tell me - that made just as much sense as that beyonce chick's song does, did it not? hmm. that's what i thought too.

zing! revelsign made her first sasta.

relaxing hair should be allowed time for sleeping.

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE.

do you know that feeling? that weird feeling, like one of those people who'll wake up at the end of a hangover and look out at the ruins of the night that had just transpired? this blog post will be the ruins of my current little voyage, trip, voieee-ahhhhge as we may be so kind to call it, to the limits of outer fucking space.

now blue. then red maybe tinged it all! ting ting ting.

humpty dumpty my good friend. in your shiny whiteness, and neatly combed hair, i see an evocative snapshot of our generation. cold. confused, going around in circles. white. trying to find purity. crazy, rolling around roiling on the inside, but hard, smooth, perfect on the outside? sometimes we roll / let the crazy break through. some people spend their whole lives rolling / being crazy. Mr.egg and humanity's generation X, unite.

WOW. what generation are we in anyway? you remember reading vaguely about gen X people, a while ago. were we them? are we us? genX? genY? is. there. a. gen. Z?!!?

these are all things to ponder, people. this is truth speaking. no lies. i'm not blogging for any of you. there are no readers in mind. i don't give a rat's ass if no one but me reads this post, that's how i blogged. i wrote down pure, untempered thoughts. ting a ting me for that, if you want. but that's how it's goin' down. snap.

now that that business is over: let us proceed, Lord Denning MR. he who shall never be reincarnated after they get one o' those fancy little supreme courts in that country. don't worry. i'll still make you pea soup.

an ending, an ending.

i'm bored.

humpty dumpty sat on the wall eating a nice little brunch. he ignored all the naysayers, the disbelievers, the haggles, the critics who said - HE CAN'T SIT ON THE WALL WITHOUT FALLING! - and he sat. he sat and took out his egg sandwich (that's disturbing m, in your thoughts dreamy imagination thing humpty dumpty is a cannibal! smushy egg yolk, crumble, chew.) (wow, i used/am using round brackets instead of the little triangular dealies i usually go for) (wow, are three clauses in parentheses right next to each other allowed? what does it all mean? is it a revolution for english grammar? a sentence structure that no one has thought of before? a new possibility. when do we get to see that in this lifetime, folks? (girl sitting behind is singing. slip. dance floor. naked? ooh. no. hat.)) and he ate it like there was no tomorrow, folks. he was dignified. he brushed his mustache with his napkin and brushed the crumbs off his lap. he ignored the shouts of all those crazy people telling him to come down. their worry, their unecessary anxiety. when he was done, and only when he was done - he packed away his lunch box. readjusted his tie. and climbed steadily down the wall. reached the ground. patted his head. and walked off into the sunset.

so i guess what i'm saying is - the moral of this story / the point of this blog / the motto for YOUR life should be (shout it to the rooftops):

humpty dumpty is sitting on the wall people. get fucking over it. (or perhaps 'fucking get over it'? i don't know either way, your choice. make selection clear when filing purchase order.)

amen.

currently: clearly something is happening. quick! duck! a return of bananas and the dolphingium! no! you already said goodbye and thanks for all the fish! grr. i hate a dolphin that goes back on its word.

listening: a bit of something, fan-like, nail against keyboard. (mehhh says girl sitting in back.) well, there you go people.

life as i currently know it.

of pillow fights to avril lavigne, flailing legs and war-like screams.

not to mention truly dumb dumb charades and britney spears / guilty pleasure music marathons. mashed potatoes and almost taboo. participants shall remain unnamed to protect reputations all around. instead i dub thee as follows:

the monster Baby

simply put: the Legs flailing

the vaguely confused Screaming

the underservedly Unmolested video-ing

the vengeful Pacifist singing

all those who need to know know what i'm talking about. ;)

perhaps something more profound to say later when i'm not quite as happily well fed and drawing such a goddamn blank.

.

currently: well-fed and lazy; gently rumbling tummies and happy sighs.

listening: what i like about you - the romantics.

the sound of silence.

i hurt myself today / to see if i could still feel the pain.

a shout out to mr. johnny cash. you sure know how to throw those words together.


currently: lying in bed.
listening: the sound of the fan spinning over my head.

grrr.

[edit]

.

things that seriously piss me off: the internet, 'ciao.', dust, the WTO, hope, money, mustard yellow, frailty, politics, writer's block, human beings in fucking general. oh, and did i mention the inter-fucking-net?

.

currently: red satin, lace, raj bhala, and i have launched an all-out war against the WTO. die, die, die. there will be foosball and omelettes involved.

listening: go home, get stoned - hinder. excellent fuel for headbanging and evil plots.

and the space flies have landed...

i've been wandering down the hallway, munching parle g and meandering, drifting from side to side. there's a light on in that room, way down there, so i amble forward and peer in curiously. after that i go away. i go go go.

off down to a locked door steel lock. confusion. where? where? where?

turn around, walk back, voices. room. glint. metal. key. there. hello!

almost forgot. bye-bye.

---

things i love are nailpolish, kangarooes, and the color yellow.
juice is also good. maybe for drinking. maybe.

say hello from time to time. we won't die. i won't get up and start barking. its okay. we can make snow. if you can't make your mind up...

coupling. sex. isn't the english language weird. i wonder who the first professor of the english language was. and chippendale dancers. wow. and tlc, for that matter. and smiley people with teeth that are just way too damn white. people that smile too much are...in need of watching.

also, love. love is rain. fleeting. like hilary duff.

criminal as it may be, we can't all be fluffy. some of us are straight. and some are shiny. some have too much. and some have too little. but hair is hair. and that's that.

i've got may peace prevail on earth on my mind. non liquet. the icj. a situation without answers. a void. a place where nobody knows what to do, or how to do it.

there's a guitar in my hand. mona lisa. the last of your kind. lover i don't have to love. first thing on my mind. there's a little more left to write.

crinkle dink, crinkle dink.
the space flies have landed.


currently: cherry-lipped, worrisome, guitar in hand.
listening: hallelujah - jeff buckley.

post-ette.

i know what a sextet is, but i'd rather not say.

mister musician man, do what you will with that. ;)

a blogging phase has begun anew. perhaps i'm confronting feelings. perhaps i'm just avoiding work. whatever it is, i suppose it's good to be easing back into it.

my pocket geographical dictionary is a well-worn friend, indeed. labour law miracle on dasht-e-lut with an umbrella and a cup of tea. light snacks, light showers, good reading.

currently: bare feet on cold stone. giving a post-laughing fit listen to three marlenas by the wallflowers. that jakob dylan sure is sexy.

[edit]

its about time: http://www.google.com/hostednews/afp/article/ALeqM5hWbNh6saqZIrxx6sUHmwdZDcMeBQ

just a sinking feeling.

now that's the problem with letting people know you care.

currently: melancholy.
listening: everything's not lost - coldplay.

darkness

"i had a dream, which was not all a dream.
the bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
did wander darkling in the eternal space,
rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
morn came and went - and came, and brought no day,
and men forgot their passions in the dread
of this their desolation; and all hearts
were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light:
and they did live by watchfires - and the thrones,
the palaces of crowned kings - the huts,
the habitations of all things which dwell,
were burnt for beacons; cities were consum'd,
and men were gather'd round their blazing homes
to look once more into each other's face;
happy were those who dwelt within the eye
of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch:
a fearful hope was all the world contain'd;
forests were set on fire - but hour by hour
they fell and faded - and the crackling trunks
extinguish'd with a crash - and all was black.
the brows of men by the despairing light
wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits
the flashes fell upon them; some lay down
and hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest
their chins upon their clenched hands, and smil'd;
and others hurried to and fro, and fed
their funeral piles with fuel, and look'd up
with mad disquietude on the dull sky,
the pall of a past world; and then again
with curses cast them down upon the dust,
and gnash'd their teeth and howl'd: the wild birds shriek'd
and, terrified, did flutter on the ground,
and flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes
came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawl'd
and twin'd themselves among the multitude,
hissing, but stingless - they were slain for food.
and War, which for a moment was no more,
did glut himself again: a meal was bought
with blood, and each sate sullenly apart
gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;
all earth was but one thought - and that was death
immediate and inglorious; and the pang
of famine fed upon all entrails - men
died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;
the meagre by the meagre were devour'd,
even dogs assail'd their masters, all save one,
and he was faithful to a corse, and kept
the birds and beasts and famish'd men at bay,
till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead
lur'd their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,
but with a piteous and perpetual moan,
and a quick desolate cry, licking the hand
which answer'd not with a caress - he died.
the crowd was famish'd by degrees; but two
of an enormous city did survive,
and they were enemies: they met beside
the dying embers of an altar-place
where had been heap'd a mass of holy things
for an unholy usage; they rak'd up,
and shivering scrap'd with their cold skeleton hands
the feeble ashes, and their feeble breath
blew for a little life, and made a flame
which was a mockery; then they lifted up
their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld
each other's aspects - saw, and shriek'd, and died -
even of their mutual hideousness they died,
unknowing who he was upon whose brow
famine had written Fiend. The world was void,
the populous and the powerful was a lump,
seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless -
a lump of death--a chaos of hard clay.
the rivers, lakes and ocean all stood still,
and nothing stirr'd within their silent depths;
ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,
and their masts fell down piecemeal: as they dropp'd
they slept on the abyss without a surge -
the waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
the moon, their mistress, had expir'd before;
the winds were wither'd in the stagnant air,
and the clouds perish'd; darkness had no need
of aid from them - she was the universe."

- lord byron

because, its perfect.

mirror, mirror...

so take it back and paint it black.