July 3rd, 2002

NewYorkNewYork

(no subject)

My muscles hurteded. I need like... deep tissue massage. Most people don't like doing that, though. It's uh .. it's pretty rough and I know that when I do it to people they end up with dark red marks all over their backs.
But it's *worth* it, dammit.

Went to bed really late.
Got up early-ish.
Had a talk with my mom about that whole... so depressed I can't move thing I've been feeling. I want to clean out and defrost the chest freezer today. What I really want is to get the rest of the things together for SOMEONE'S birthday gifts... but it's disgustingly hot and I'm just not leaving the house if I don't need to. I had this weird epiphany this morning where I figured out that one of the little plastic pieces on my camera strap is a viewfinder cover for remote shots where your head isn't covering it to prevent light leakage.
People make my head hurt.

I think I should get more into telepathy.
I've enough capacity for annoyance, rage, anger, and out and out *wrath* at humanity that if I were to concentrate it and focus it in some way, I'm *sure* I could make peoples' heads explode, at up to transatlantic distances if necessary.
::nods::
NewYorkNewYork

I'm tired

I want to go curl up in the chest freezer. Not because I'm cold or anything but because we've had that freezer since I was fairly young and I've always imagined just climbing into it. Now that it's cleaned out and defrosted again, I'm sure it wouldn't be a problem. I don't want to lay down in it or anything. I just want to sit in it. It's deep enough that I wouldn't bump my head when I close the lid.
I remember all these strange warnings when I was a kid about not playing in old refrigerators.
I don't remember there ever being an old refrigerator just... around and available for kids to frolic around. But I've had this strong mental image of a hide and seek game that turns tragic when little Timmy picks the *perfect* spot to hide and isn't found until weeks later when there are packs of wild dogs growling and licking at that stinky refrigerator in the abandoned lot right besides the old refinery (or what have you).
Maybe it was in a movie or a television show or something and at this point I just *think* that it's an original thought.
Very possible.

I decided last night that I *really* don't like Rush and I just don't get the appeal. I get more visceral musical enjoyment from Spinal Tap. Seriously. Neither do I have a great love of Led Zeppelin , Yes, The Who, The Eagles, or Black Sabbath.
I can understand why they were good in their time. But as far as wanting to listen to them in *this* time when I don't have to , well, I'll pass.
And ya know.... I don't understand the joy of indie rock either.... I dunno. There's the possibility that I just haven't heard the "right" things. But I doubt it.

I'm really scattered. I'm actually *really* tired. And it isn't even full dark out yet.
jeeze
NewYorkNewYork

Lobster

My father brought home a lobster.
I decided to take pictures of it before he cooked it. I do stuff like that.
Well, in the process of sitting on the floor taking a good long look at this really weird looking little creature while it bubbled and clicked at me and wiggled its eye stalks when I tapped on its shell, I became horribly horribly sad.

My father is cooking it right now.
I was never an ideological vegetarian. In fact, they sort of annoy me with their frequent (if not constant) ribbing about the pain and suffering of the animals and their snide remarks in the presence of meat eaters. (and no, not all ideological vegetarians are like that, I know...) I just don't eat meat because I don't like meat.

But it's going to be a good long while before I eat anything with a face again. This really got to me in some odd but definitive way.

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