ruminating...

I think it actually means something to do with cows, but I forget, so, meh.

The last time I felt this drained was when I had that surgery and they had to basically wash out my blood. That was a weird time.

Had the most delectable piece of cow for dinner. Like, good. The Japanese may be short and kinky, but they sure know how to make good beef. Magyu beef, which are basically Japanese cows grown in Australia. Yeah, okay fine. Whatever. At any rate, it was good. San Francisco Steakhouse. The place in the Summit is kinda fucked, cuz it's quite empty, but the food is good, service prompt. Maybe because it's empty. Anyways, blur pics soon to come. Forgot to bring camera. Like, camera phones seriously have to NOT be VGA phones.

I'm going to make it a point to wake up insanely early and go for walks. Then come back, lift weights a bit, then maybe run around some. The point is to work the body to exhaustion. Time to break it down into tiny bits, then reconstruct it. Especially the brain. It's beginning to malfunction lately, as you can see with my most recent posts.

Drastic situation I'm in. I'm no longer top in anything. My chem's fucked. English even more fucked. And I'm short of 1 to be top of geometry. And those of you tearing out your nipples in outrage at my seemingly ungratefulness of my position can go right ahead. Once you've tasted ambrosia, you don't go back to downing air tebu. So, make sure you have the number of a good plastic surgeon to reattach your detached mammary glands.

I've lost touch with myself. And other people. And I don't miss it one bit. It's hard to, when it doesn't quite miss you either. Time to move on, eh? I'm getting quite emo lately. No idea why. Maybe it's the emo component of me finally coming out? Quite strange, can fell all sorts of pangs for stuff I don't normally even think about. And songs can make me stop dead in my tracks because they remind me of things, even though I've never heard the song before. One particular one is Utada Hikaru's Final Distance.

As of yet, there are no applications for that smooching post. Oh well. it is not crucial, and I do not have the time to finance such a position, so, I suppose it's a good thing. There are more important biological voids to fill, such as my renewed compulsion for eating all the time. This is proving expensive, since my choice of nourishment has attained somewhat loftier positions ever since I started eating less, but higher up the scale. Must starve into insanity. That usually rebalances the checkbooks. Of course, the more obvious option would be to eat cheap, but obvious is boring, isn't it?

Emo kid, maybe that's what I've been unconciously all this while. Lucid thinking seems to be the predominant trait and can somehow override more pressing emotional concerns. Crying is hard still, but I'm letting loose the twistedly insane cheerful streak so often that I think I may have gotten someone to somehow change his sexual orientation. Coolness.

I read this story of this boy who had long silver hair, one cybernetic eye, and apparently full of life. He had this quirky trait of being so inanely cheerful that everyone had no choice but to live to his level of enthusiasm. He had this problem, similar to epilepsy, that could only be controlled through the ingesting of some addictive, mentally eroding drug. And of course, another guy falls for him and something something. Of course, this is a lemony bit of fiction, but it was a good one with a real interesting story. You can read it here. The weird part is seeing my name in the story. Repeatedly.

Such an emo character I am. And then again, not. The manner in which I can instantly regain composure is so unsettling to me that sometimes I question my own intentions. The sad part is not being able to answer for sure. I pray somehow that out there, someone can finally fix me up to perfection, or deconstruct me so completely, that fixing would never be an issue.

Ah, emo kid am I.

Meh.