Stream of Consciousness

I know I'm tired, but I have absolutely no desire to sleep. Doing so would end the day, and wedge me farther into the unmapped future. So instead, I rebel against time and peel back my eyelids.

I read over my journal from when I was 13 until 16. After I recovered from my convulsing laughter, I got a tad bit frustrated with myself. I have the same problems now as I did when I was 16. The problem was me. But now, I'll never look back.

My Ukranian step cousin is in town. Sweet little thing she is. Reminds me a LOT of Amelie- the French girl in the movie with the gnomes? She's sporting the same haircut and she's foreign. We all visited The Baltimore Inner Harbor today. She and Inna insisted on starting a conversation with 5 thuggush strangers. Damn their adorable, trusting nature. Olya actually offered a lick of her ice cream, in a completely non-sexual manner of course. Though nothing happened other than really awkward, forced conversation, I did in fact, momentarily fear for our lives.

Dad's iphone flew off the top of our car and was run over by several automobiles. I laughed. He did not. We are both, currently Iphoneless. Oh well.

I was approached by some sort of non-denominational evangelist today in Barnes and Noble. We talked for a while, but I didn't feel the urge to argue unitl midnight. He pleaded that "it was a matter of eternal life." I know sir. Believe me, above all, THIS I know.

Strangely, I dreamt a similar situation only two nights ago.

I conducted an experiment today and found that thoughts really do control bodily reactions. Your temperature can truly reflect your mood.

This Ukrainian cat has somehow crawled her way into my lap and into a perfectly shaped sphere. She finally relinquished her battle for my laptop's keyboard as her nest, and settled for my thighs. She looks like she's always wearing heels, the way her legs are shaped. Always presentable, always poised. In fact, she'd be an expert video-chatter.

Rain, summer rain. Thunder, sing me to sleep. I'll concede to you.

Nothing's guarunteed, even if it's promised.

Went with my dad today to his appointment and meeting. He's switched careers recently, from a master carpenter to a life insurance salesman. My skepticism prevailed, even up to half way through the appointment with Takeela (yep, real name). I'd hoped this was not another quick fix, miracle solution my dad had "discovered." But then he started talking, and the insurance info oozed. Then surmising training session after the house call further impressed me. Here was a group of people thoroughly invested in a plausible opportunity to make money. Enthusiastic, supportive, and obviously benefitted (several people won cruises), this group congratulated my dad on his abundant success. A woman gushed that he was "so sweet" and "one of those people you can't help but like." Aw... dats my dad.

So, I am inspired in my own job quest, commencing tomorrow. I've got everything googe-mapped, several resumes printed, reference numbers recorded, and craiglist exploited.

Maybe I'll make a pit stop at Maryland's quaintest consignment shop- Mustard Seed! It's been a chunk of time since I've bought any clothes.

I can NOT believe I have three months off! What the hell am I going to DO?! Ok I've got vague plans that include working, reading the 'classics,' eating healthy, finding new recipes and COOKING them, traveling, and working out. OH! Plus I'm going to reteach myself the entire Spanish language in order to test out of it for the Honors College. But, between all this, how am I going to live without my dancers, suities, honors nerds, and tour guides?!

Three months is a long time. Enough for a lot of things to change. I hope one stays relatively stable; even if it has to lie dormant. But that's how it's been for the last two months, with a pleasantly surprising erruption. Mmm hmmm.

Nothing's guarunteed, even if it's promised. So why even say anything at all? What is, IS. What will be, will BE. All I can attest for is the present and the slightly furturistic present. Today, tomorrow, perhaps next week. Forget the rest. Forget the past. It's all a blur of foiled intentions.

That's why I can only be happy as a result of one source.

here we are again I suppose. another venture; another possibility. the climb begins. minute questions trickle from my mouth, as does the routine speech. love the dealbreakers. welcome to my world. nice to meet you.

*************************************************************************************
All Night.

Our relationship hasn't lasted long,
but it's intense enough to inspire song.
Spent the night in wild shame,
gave me wings of impassioned flame.
Those lustful hours you stole attention,
demanded focus, relieved all tension.
Gave me life amidst wearied woe,
the task ahead went much less slow.
And as the sun rose above my head,
I realized I had not yet said:
"You, indeed, excite my soul,
you, my dearest, reddest bull."