Books

Right now I'm reading Voyage in the Dark by Jean Ryhs. I'm loving it. This lady has some lines. Man, oh, man. Does she have some lines.

The Votes Are IN!

Kyle is officially a reverse idiot savant. I don't know if that is the preferred nomenclature. If I have offended you I don't care. I'm in the midst of a joke, okay. Get over it.

Reverse Idiot Savant (RIS if your into acronyms) is an affliction, some may call it a disability, where you are exceptionally bad at one thing. See because a regular idiot savant is being exceptionally good at one thing, but with low functioning in most other areas. See how that works. That reverse thing.

Let me give you an example. Kyle is a highly functioning individual. Except in the kitchen. Good god almighty. He is the worst cook on the face of the Earth. He can fuck anything up. Anything. He can't cook by himself. I have to watch his every move. It is laughable. Today he fucked a cobbler while I wasn't around. I know you are thinking, "Fucked up a cobbler?" Yes. But never the less it looked like it was fucked. And it was black. The bread and everything. BUT, get this, it wasn't burnt. He is amazing. Knock your socks off bad.

Just think about the first time you saw Rain Man. You know when that waitress drops the toothpicks and you are awed by his counting skills. Well, Kyle inspires that same awe.

What fills my days

In addition to being utterly miserable and tired most of the time, I have an unnatural urge to be creative. It is eating my alive that I don't have time or the energy to take pictures. I haven't even renewed my Flickr pro account. Just thinking about it hurts.

I so, so, SO want to take pictures of the trash Corley, Casey, and I dug through.

Corley didn't mention it, but I found a horseshoe crab. Dead of course. It was in a shoe box. It was so rad. I don't have words for just how cool it was. Plus the books. My emotions of that night are best described by clenching my fists, folding my arms in half at the elbow and tightly vibrating my hands back and forth. All the while emitting a squeal so high pitched only the dogs can hear. Good thing to, because the neighbors would call the cops. For sure.

A Prayer for the Dying

Dear God,

Please, oh please, help me to decompress before I hurt somebody. Or explode. Or implode.

While your at it the heartburn and the muscle spasms, could you do something about them.

And my Spanish Teacher.

Thank you kindly.

Yours very truly,

Little Lauren Lead foot.

I'm a strange bird

No doubt.

I have a running commentary, with myself, on what I think hell will be like. (I think it will be an individual experience if there is one. ) I have decided that my hell would be forever taking a Spanish Test as my teacher pronounces her Y's as J's and there will be someone coughing non stop and I will be sweating.

As a project to look on the brighter side of things I have recently started a running commentary on heaven. So far it is The Beatles (hopefully they will all be dead by the time I go) and Virginia Wolf on the Isle of White. I'm not really sure what we will be doing there. Oh, and my idol, Hunter S. Thompson. You know great rock and roll bands and writers and the like. I think that would be great.

Real as surreal can be

A succession of events led to an out of mind experience today. It felt good. I need more of these.

I leave my first class which is really exhausting, but I go a different way. I go make an appointment to see an adviser. This happens quite smoothly considering I came at the brink of lunch time. I thank the adviser that made me an appointment and leave the building.

Classes have started so there aren't a lot of people about. As I begin to walk to my next class, five blocks away, I see a man standing and orating to no one in particular. The spot he is standing in, directly in front of the tower, has a particularly good echo apparently. So I begin to slow down, his voice is nice he is talking about the Bible. It interested me, this echo. After I am past him I begin to slow down more. I'm not afraid he will talk to me anymore. I don't want him to break the spell. He is reading a passage from the Bible about "the salt of the earth". I look up to see past the tower. The sky is impeccably blue. There are three vultures. The pulsing of the echo in my head has perfectly coincided with my foot steps. For a second, I feel like my body has gone. Everything is gone. The only thing remaining is this echo, this painful blue, and the vultures soaring in this blue muddle on some hot, rising chamber of air.

Finally, I look were I am going. Slowly everything comes back, the woozy feeling is gone. But I still need a little shake to free myself completely. As I'm trying to come back to reality all I can hear is, "Let your light shine. Let your light shine. Let your light shine. Let your light shine."

By god, I must need to let my light shine. But how?

Now my internal narrative is going full speed ahead. Is this a sign? If so was it God? What would he be saying? Let my light shine? Oh, dear God, things couldn't get any weirder. Let my light shine? Maybe this is some weird trick. Can't be. Everything is connected. I'm reading To The Lighthouse. Isn't that a weird coincidence? Let my light shine?

No. No. I'm sure this is just some acid flashback. Nothing to worry about. God hasn't contacted me. Drugs have.

In a way it was like a mini "psychedelic humbling". It reminded me a lot of the waves you ride on an acid/mushroom trip. One minute you are perfectly lucid. The next you are in a new universe where everything makes sense, but nothing makes sense. Then back, at the drop of a hat, right where you left off. One minute your body is a sack of bones and muscle weighing you down, the next it is a bag of nerves and sensations lifting you up. Life is like that. These ups and downs. The chemicals just intensifies them. Makes them come quicker, stronger.

Oh. My. God. This can not be coincidence. The Lighthouse is all about waves. Waves of time. Waves of reality. Maybe I'm channeling Virginia? Maybe her surrealist thinking has seeped into my consciousness through this story of hers.

Wait. Am I high right now?

I don't think so.

Big Day

It was a big day at the old college in Austin, Texas yesterday. One dead body was found in the early hours of the morning on campus by UT employees. They are saying now that the 40-50 year old Hispanic woman died of natural causes, and a bomb threat to boot.

This week

This week has picked me up thrown me across the room. We he was done with that he scooped out my insides with a grapefruit spoon, put them in a blender, then shoved that gooey mess up my ass, then called it a day.

So, needless to say, I'm a little worn out from all of that scraping and blending and shoving.

Good night. I'm going to hope that I don't remember any of that mess when I wake up in the morning.