Thought Vomit

"I haven't been HERE in a while...!" the blogger said with the joyful awe you can only get by visiting an old, familiar place. She decided to dust the shelves and start writing.

Lately all I've been drawing are Neopets. It is silly how much these made-up creatures mean to me. I love them.
Phinble and Saaburu. The effortless painted-no-shading-black-outline style is wonderful.

My boyfriend and I's small business is now a legitimate business with a legitimate website. Much work is ahead for us.

Speaking of Stark, things are hard for him. Somehow I feel that my easy-ass life thus far has put me in a great position to help him. What I mean to say is that I feel like this moment, this beautiful human being, is my reason for being here. His hard life balances my one that I've coasted through. I, being the stronger person (in some aspects), will support him. I see his potential. I see the fire in his eyes. I love him and will help him always. Feeling this way feels like being alive.

Here are some random tidbits from my new "Random Poetic Thoughts Journal". I often have little poetic rantings or bouts of colorful language. I decided to buy a journal to write them down in.
"It's one of those futile feelings. When you're searching for something, even though your rational brain knows where you left it and that is isn't there. Your hands still sift through your pockets, purse, backpack. Maybe it's just the principal of the thing. You feel like you need to look for it anyway due to its importance. Such is the stubbornness of the human habit. "

"Someone honked at me while I was driving today. It was dark, raining, the light was red, I stopped to look to turn right. There it was: a car's horn behind me. Distant and cruel, something that demands angry attention. Car horns were designed for letting other cars know about potentially dangerous things... 'Don't back into me,' 'stop', 'watch out'. But we have turned them into on-road, language-less curses... Angry and anonymous yelling. Whenever I hear a car's horn, my mind snaps into frantic and guilty thoughts. What did I do wrong? Am I not doing what I'm supposed to? Even if the noise wasn't meant for me, it gets me on edge. That person had an ISSUE with me. After that, my mind tricks me into thinking everyone's got a bone to pick with me. The man sitting in the parking lot booth is displeased with the speed I'm going. The person parked next to me thinks I am too close. Right here: the embodiment of a common paranoia. I hate driving. "

"The sound of rain is absolutely different every moment you hear it. Technically, every drop is different and hits a different spot on the ground, the plants, the umbrellas, the cars... So it should logically make its own special sound. The really beautiful thing about it is that it doesn't."

I hope you got something out of them. :)
Be safe everyone.

Some Happy Things

This song makes me cry every time I hear it.
My mother used to sing the first verse to me as a lullaby. On one hand I think it is funny, because the character thinks about women and drinking, and it amuses me that my mother would find this suitable for a lullaby. But on the other hand, I find this song irresistably beautiful. Every time I hear it, sing it, or even read the lyrics: I tear up.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5EoNd_maBbY

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Here is another warm-fuzzy.
Cast aside all previous bias, all rational thought, and embrace the child-like and simply charming writing of Edward Lear.
(Poem and image credit: http://www.nonsenselit.org/Lear )



I
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo,
'Good gracious! how you hop!
Over the fields and the water too,
As if you never would stop!
My life is a bore in this nasty pond,
And I long to go out in the world beyond!
I wish I could hop like you!'
Said the duck to the Kangaroo.

II
'Please give me a ride on your back!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.
'I would sit quite still, and say nothing but "Quack,"
The whole of the long day through!
And we'd go to the Dee, and the Jelly Bo Lee,
Over the land and over the sea;--
Please take me a ride! O do!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.



III
Said the Kangaroo to the Duck,
'This requires some little reflection;
Perhaps on the whole it might bring me luck,
And there seems but one objection,
Which is, if you'll let me speak so bold,
Your feet are unpleasantly wet and cold,
And would probably give me the roo-
Matiz!' said the Kangaroo.



IV
Said the Duck ,'As I sate on the rocks,
I have thought over that completely,
And I bought four pairs of worsted socks
Which fit my web-feet neatly.
And to keep out the cold I've bought a cloak,
And every day a cigar I'll smoke,
All to follow my own dear true
Love of a Kangaroo!'

V
Said the Kangaroo,'I'm ready!
All in the moonlight pale;
But to balance me well, dear Duck, sit steady!
And quite at the end of my tail!'
So away they went with a hop and a bound,
And they hopped the whole world three times round;
And who so happy, -- O who,
As the duck and the Kangaroo?

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It really is the little things that help me get through the day. (And by "day" I mean "my 4-hour gap between classes at school".)