For goodness sake.

I can barely withhold my immense Christmas spirit!

Christmas is everywhere. I went driving through the mall thing near my house and it's all decorated for Christmas. Lights strung up between the lamp posts and across the streets. Trees adorned with ornaments and lights and candy canes everywhere.

And Santa sitting on a big chair, and a big line of kids waiting to tell him what they want. Or to cry. Or pee in his lap. Whatever it is that kids do while on Santa's lap.

"It ruins it for me." She said about the omnipresent holiday. The Christmas inundation we already have. It's not even December yet and Christmas is kicking everybody in the balls. She doesn't want to hear about Christmas on the radio or on television yet because it's too early. Well it's too bad, I think, because I am already in the mood for holidays.

Fuck finals!

I've already finished most of my Christmas shopping. Which I think is kind of wrong. But oh well. It's almost Christmas! And the radio is playing Christmas music all the fucking time now! God damn, I'm excited. It's going to get cold and then we get to dress up in winter clothes and go around listening to people singing carols and drinking hot chocolate and starting fires and looking at lights and having a really fucking good time.

I almost got a waterproof camera! I should've bought more shit! It's okay though. I have a lot as it is, and I am thankful for everything I have.

Or wait, is that the wrong holiday.

Comments

Past the butterfly wall.

Spontaneous pneumothorax is a collection of air or gas in the space between the lungs and the chest that "collapses" the lung and prevents it from inflating completely. Spontaneous means there is no traumatic injury to the chest or lung. There are two types of spontaneous pneumothorax: primary and secondary. Primary spontaneous pneumothorax occurs in people without lung disease. It occurs most often in tall, thin, young people. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket but I can't answer it. We are in the middle of rehearsal. It is not an uncommon event. We continue to play. The strap of my saxophone cuts into my neck. The nylon is rough against my skin. I look out of place. Everyone else is dressed casually; shorts, shirts, shoes optional. There I stand, a button down shirt and slacks. I'm entitled to dress up a little. It's my birthday. My phone vibrates again. I always used to roll my eyes whenever I saw those scenes in movies. The phone call. The bad news....

Pseudo-science (like psych).

I consider myself a man of science. I try to approach problems and deal with them logically, using observations previously recorded to handle new problems. So of course my interest was piqued when someone I knew posited that men are needier and more complicated than women. An interesting theory. But to properly examine it, one must understand the concept of sexual selection and its two aspects: male competition and female choice. Which brings us to point one: men are needier [in relationships] than women. This is true. In a natural/primal setting, the males are generally love-'em-leave-'em kinds of guys. Their main objective is to reproduce as much as they can. Humans, in their infinite wisdom, have decreased the emphasis on this to the point where it has become a footnote in male purpose. Civilization dictates that, instead of finding a partner for the sole purpose of reproduction, males find females for life companionship. With the effective removal of their natur...

I wonder, sometimes.

I am standing on the edge of a cliff face. A breeze whips past me as I stare out into the darkness. It's a familiar sight, comforting. The river bends below me. It stretches out, away from me at both ends. The arch of the bridge traverses the river, silhouetted by the house lights and golf course below us. So far away from us. The highway reaches out before us, straight into the hills and disappears on the horizon. It is silent. There are no cars. No planes. No animals. It is just us standing on top of the cliff. As it should be. It's late. A late weeknight. Just a normal Tuesday night to the world. I step away from the edge. In 5 minutes, I will be 22 years old. It's a turning point in my life. A fixed checkpoint. I'm only 21 years old, I'm not an actual adult yet. Maybe legally. But I'm still a child. I'm immature, I laugh at fart jokes. I laugh at everything. Why would I take anything seriously? 21 years old and we still have no responsibilities. We c...

everything is fine

Search This Blog