Nup II

Time is like a gnawing itch that you scratch but that keeps itching over and over then everything is loud and you wish you didn't pick your nails so that they were longer and thereby better for scratching so you could dig them into that itch that isn't sexually related because it's on your elbow plus getting that type of itch would require activities that- well it's definitely not that sort of itch.

That's what time is like.

Plus every time you scratch, there is magical new scratchy place on neck or hand or.. Wait, DOIHAVEFLEAS?!?

I guess it's like they say- if you lie down with the dogs, you get arrested.

My fantabulirrifical day continued as expected. I'll concede that one mightn't be a word, but why the hell not? If that's not a word, why does horrificalible get to-- oh, that's not either? Not exactly FREE speech if you can't make up words.

Today definitely got to me. I partly blame my dream girl, aka unnamed girl of fictions I met while asleep last night. It's like when you those freaks watched Avatar and cried because the fictional planet of beauty where everything tries to kill you wasn't real. Seeing as I live in Australia, I need not long for any additional death traps cause we have deadly females, and other animals, whereas Pandora just had made-up-ness. I don't get the "I wish I lived somewhere more likely to kill me" as a result, but MAYBE I just take that side of my country for granted.

Or maybe I'm not fricking crazy.

Haha. Ok, so I take it for granted. So I wake up thinking THAT.WAS.AWESOME. Yes it is very sad that my dreams are about communication and kisses and loviness and daffodils and zombie cults and rainbows. But not real. I used to be so used to that, that the day after a really good day, I'd wake, wondering if it wasn't even real. And it was!! So this just made me want to sleep more instead of facing that annoying itch of life, since I was running out of time to scratch away.

Work shenanigans, which I'm not really going to go into, as well as some other things I'm not going to go into either - there's such a thing as too much information, and okay, so I'm already at that stage, but that's not reason to go off all in... if that makes sense.

I had the unnerving compulsion to walk in the rain - and wouldn't you know it, every time I went to try and walk in it to compound my foul mood, the torrent ceased. This happens to me from time to time (or itch to itch) where things I want to go wrong never really do. Yes, I've complained about getting too many green lights while driving!

It's not a case that nothing ever goes wrong, but none of the trivial stuff does. At least not alone.

Unfortunately today has had no writing beyond this blog (though two entries, not bad). Just not in the right mood for my awesome novel of awesomeness. Maybe tomorrow.

~T

Nup

Time is like eating forty cakes. Sometimes you really just need to say No. Okay, I'm not really sure how one might say No to time; look at the clock and waggle your finger? It still does it's thing. Screw you, Time! You could go to your nearest newsagency, pick up a copy of the eponymous magazine (and not the e-Pony/Mouse magazine dedicated to virtual all sorts of cute virtual pets and the cute wittle outfits you can get for those cuddly wuddly critters), take it the counter and then go "Actually, no. Screw you, Time, I ain't buying what you're selling. As in, I'm not buying you."

You should also rant at the newsagency officer for good measure. Trust me, they LOVE it.

I could probably deal with eating part of the 40 cakes - the icing and the cream, but I don't really go in for the 'cake' component of the cake. When it comes to cakes, the icing on the cake is really the icing on the cake. I don't mind stuff like tarts and brownies and... NO THE FRICKING DESSERTS, YOU PERVERT. Also, almond-y biscuits! I really really love my chocolate, especially a chocolate mousse.

So I've been reminiscing today. It's something I used to do a lot - oh, how I loved it! Today my reminiscing is more about shirking responsibility cause I'm not really in the mood. I felt like this yesterday too and was INUNDATED WITH MESSAGES WONDERING IF I DIED cause there was no blog entry. Or at least I should have been, you uncaring wretches! But then I had good music, and I looked AMAZING and then I heard from a friend and was all THISISTHEBESTDAYEVER and then last night I had a dream I met a girl and she kissed me!

Then I woke up and cried... out "DAMNIT"

So today I'm trying to find my music and my writing mood and my friend messages but it's not coming, so I just say No to today. Lunch will help. Lunch always helps. I should have cakes!

Sometimes this blogginess will have random off-the-cuff tangents that nobody gets. It's because I'm a random off-the-cuff person that nobody gets. Also, I hate cuffs. At least the shirt kind - the other kind depends on company. I can never find a jacket that is the right length and the stuff under is the same or less.

It's cause my mind is just weird. Imagine a man wandering the desert. He's wearing a little straw hat on his head, but it doesn't quite fit right. As it falls again, he looks down and notice his shoelaces are untied, so he ties them, but he thinks it would be funny to tie them together. It is, but nobody's there to laugh. Why aren't you laughing at him?

Anyway, my stress levels are at BASHMYHEADINTOAWALL levels right now. Appropriate time to crawl/walk/run away...

~T

Some kind of project

Time is like a tea cup. Until you actually put something into it, you're not really making use of it. If Agent 86 had a tea cup since it would also need to be a self-destructive kind of tea cup to properly be representative of how time gets used up even if you're not putting tea into it at all.

In the unlikely event you're having this blog recited to you by your man-servant in bright pink speedos, I would like to point out that in this case I'm talking about the beverage kind of tea cup, and not the T-sized cup that might make their presence felt in the daydreams of a young adolescent who was not concentrating in class and instead imagining a comically proportioned woman with curves to out-do Jessica Rabbit .

No, we're talking Tea. Earl Grey. Warm cause otherwise my tongue gets all ouchie.

I often struggle with ideas on what useful things I can fill my tea cup with, whether it's half-full, half-empty or WTFITSFULLALREADYSTOPPOURING. The whole idea of 'Say When' never really worked for my muse, since she's all like "yeah, I has ideas and you just have to keep up."

As I've mentioned before, I'm currently working on a novel. I wrote it last year from start to finish during nanowrimo, and it's since become the longest thing I've ever worked on. No, she didn't.

So, this novel, I'm trying to get past this one part in my editing since I'm doing it sequentially, and have set myself the goal of finishing it by the end of October. Earlier today that deadline was mid-October, to give myself a small break between then and the start of nano. It will possibly change as time goes on, to excuse my laziness.

I think I need to eat more fish and drink more coffee to get my mind BUZZING so I can just fix it all up.

I also hate winter. If you're like me, every summer you have a bunch of people on facebook saying "wah, it's too hot, i hate summer." and then "wah, it's too cold, i hate winter" when it's winter. Well I hate winter ALL THE TIME (except for birthdays cause I officially get older but will eventually hate that too)

The main reason I hate it isn't the cold. It's the dark.

It's not that I'm scared of the dark. It's just that I much prefer the safety and non-scariness of daytime. Today is the shortest day, and from here more sun will be out and about, and I dunno about you, but I absolutely love the sun. I really am a fan of it. The orange rays of the sun as it's going down (again, no she didn't) in the afternoon feels really nice. And sunshowers, how cool are they?

Anyway, I miss sunset. During nano, I used to walk down to the harbour, sit in the sun as the day died, and it was a great source of inspiration and my magnificent tan. It'd be nice to get both of those happening again. This is especially true at the moment, as I'm at a part in the first chapter edit of Shimmer (the infamous novel), where I really need brilliant visuals to inspire me, and in the midst of murky winter evenings is not much inspiration.

I think my next novel (AND I HATE THINKING ABOUT IT CAUSE THEN I'M THINKING ABOUT THAT AND NOT THIS (this THIS is meant to be even bigger, like in CAPS-CAPS but changing font-size is cheating) ONE).... um, I forget.

I think my next novel needs to be a darker one, at least in the visuals required. That, or something where a rainy day works. Actually the script I failed to write earlier this year started like that, on account of my brilliant imagination that was totally capable of imagining I was warm and dry while I shivered in 5 layers of clothing and a doona.

Don't fret, I'll get there.

Right?

RIGHT??

~T

Just one time

Time is like inspiration, in an inversely-proportionate kind of way. When you have lots of one, you never seem to have enough of the other. One of my biggest problems is that I often have way too much time on my hands. It just happens to be at the wrong times.

Actually motivation belongs in there somewhere, too. Like right now, I really couldn't be bothered to write aside from this where I'm just dumping whatever's on my mind as opposed to trying to write something amazing instead.

Considering writing is 'my passion', that's bad.

It's kind of annoying, since if I didn't have so much time at the times I did have time, then I'd probably seem a lot more sane. I don't know if it's a case of too much time, or if I'm just phenomenally brilliant at doing things quickly that when I reply to peoples and they take 30 seconds I think "WHAT'S TAKING SO LONG? I TYPED IN 20 SECONDS ITS QUICKER TO READ FFS"

I'm terrible at procrastinating for that very reason. I'll sometimes talk to a bunch of different people at once while reading websites, playing games, and checking my phone all at the same time and still have spare time to daydream.

Yeah, 'terrible' is probably the wrong word, since with that repertoire you'd have to say I'm actually very GOOD at procrastination. It's just being good at it is a terrible thing.

It's not that I have ADD, ADHD, AD or even BC. It's just when my brain kicks into gear, it goes kind of fast. Imagine if there were some sort of mechanical contraption which could travel so fast, it could actually lift into the air like the birds do. Okay, suspend your disbelief for a moment, and try to imagine. And imagine now that this mechanical bird is large enough to fit an elephant inside, and is decorated with jewels and all sorts of exotic metal like gold, silver, and ivory. And it played an awesome musical tune every time I press this beautifully ornate ivory button.

Wouldn't that be cool?

If anyone reading this is a reclusive billionaire that could make use of my services (blogging is the closest I have to a skill. Yeah, you know you want these... um.. blogginess), then I would totally take a job in exchange for my magical blingbird.

Right now I have a bunch of time, yet very little motivation. Tomorrow on the train I'll probably have time, and maybe even motivation, yet without a seat. Also maybe without inspiration, as there's a part I'm trying to get through that I'm just having trouble with. Considering it's a 3 paragraph piece I could maybe just skip it, but I is trying to make my novel really great.

Sometimes I'll feel like doing something new, though the next something new isn't probably going to start till nanowrimo. Or. OR. ORRR... I could christen my new writing books by writing something new - I don't really want to use them for something OLD until I finish with the book I'm currently midway through.

I'm thinking a western or vampires or maybe both. Or DINOSAURS

Could there be dinosaur vampire cowboys?

So yeah, while I should be working on my novel at the moment, I REALLY can't be bothered. So INSTEAD I'm stalking facebook waiting for someone, anyone, to talk to or reply to or be witty to.

But since I can't find none right now, is blog time.

A Run-in with the Law

Time is like oxygen. Until you've got none left, you tend to take it for granted.

So I was pulled over today. Random Breath Testing, my ass - I just knew it'd be me that was picked as soon as I saw them. Time and oxygen, the cops wanted a bit of both.

Now, I had some alcohol last night.

Not a lot, but I really don't know how long it takes for the demon drink to get out of my system.

Also, my being on P's means I cannot have any. The reason for that is a longer story, though since longer doesn't always mean good, I can use it for a blog post another day without any fear of being inconsistent on quality.

Back to my potential drink-driving.

Mathematically there shouldn't be any problem. Maths tends to like me. We get on like 2P to the power of q. Since it was the next day, and probably 12 hours had passed since I'd last had a drink. No screaming hangovers or anything like that, but there's always the chance. "What if... my body evolved in such a way that when it digests things, it actually ferments whatever I've eaten and releases alcohol into my bloodstream and that's why I'm so weird all the time - I'm actually drunk on fermented KFC. I'm screwed!"

They don't do the walky-test they do in the movies, which is great. I can't balance myself ever- walking a straight line isn't a problem, but I'm affected by tiny singularities that orbit me so it LOOKS like I'm not walking straight. Instead, I have to count to ten. Slowly. How slowly... what if I get one wrong. WHAT THE HELL IS AFTER SEVEN?? In the end I was worrying for nothing - before I could get past seven, the cop said "You can go."

PHEW! Talk about your close calls.

I really like the idea of having cops - I think it's a really solid idea, in fact. They just scare me. It's not so much that I know I have something to hide - if I did, I could live with that. It's that I don't know if I have something I should hide. I mean, is it okay to wear two jumpers and a jacket because it's cold? If I start crossing the road seconds before the wittle man goes green, am I going to be tazed? AM I GOING TO BE TAZED?

The uncertainty is tough though. As I tried to remember the numbers, I thought to myself "Um.. I have no fricking idea if I have even the slightest trace of alcohol."

Right at that moment, not only did time seem like it was running out, but so did oxygen. Which could be because those mobile breath testers they use capture some of my breath while they're trying to suck in your soul. It's a known side-effect. "May cause shortness of breath, anal leakage, and soullessness."

Luckily, I still have my soul. I ran a test.

Afterwards I thought - wouldn't it be cool if they asked you to count to 12 instead? I mean, not cool as in "something that is cool", but funny cause then I could count like that old ONETWOTHREEFOURFIVE, SIXSEVENEIGHTNINETEN, ELEVEN TWELVE thing they did on channel 2 back in the day. It kind of gets in your ONETWOTHREEFOURFIVE, SIXSEVENEIGHTNINETEN, ELEVEN TWELVE head a bit, too.

I decided to tell the officer "Have a nice day" as I drove off, rather than my customary farewell for matters of the law. "You don't have to check the boot, right?" It just draws too much attention. I mean, there's a freaking tyre in there, and if they see that, they'll want to know what I did with the rest of the car it came from.

~T

Chew Carefully

Time is like a finding frozen mouse in the oven. You don't understand what it's doing here, and you're not sure if you really want an explanation of why it's there in the first place, but you've never said no to a free meal. Even the bad times are still times you get instead of hungry death, and if you get it saucy enough, it makes for a tasty treat. Just close your eyes and chew, you big girl.

There are times like that for me. Also, you should probably clean the oven. Just saying.

Sometimes I get the feeling that no matter how much people might smile when I'm around, like that mouse, I may not really belong. Of course I also tend to notice that they're a bit more receptive when I am sauced-up. Might be on to something here!

The feeling of OHGODWHATAMIDOINGHERE??? is unfortunately a difficult one to shake. Unlike my online interactions where I'm attention-seeking and silly, in the breathing world I'm shy, attention-seeking and silly. And while before I get to the situations, I think to myself that going along to something will be awesome, when I'm there I think.. well I already said that. But to elaborate more, "Will this never end?" also crosses my mind.

People freak me out. Possibly even you.

It's not that I think people are staring at me, like I'm the star of some really shitty Truman Show, cause that would be egotistical and wouldn't gel with my self-esteem deficiency.

But why does it look like they're looking at me?

You ever go for a walk somewhere random and see people staring at you like you're going to destroy the universe or they're time-travellers or something? Where do they even get these ideas???

Then there are times when my personalities WANT attention. They crave it, like a mouse wants the leftover pizza that's in the oven despite it probably being a trap, and SOMEHOW FREEZE! Those are the days when I think I'm looking good, or on a sugar high from candy. It always seems like SUCH a WASTE to go home when I feel like that, but then I never know where to go.

There's no equivalent of an oven around.

Some might call these two different reactions a contradiction, but they're wrong because shut up.

I am finding my place in the world - there's equivalent hangouts that won't cook me frozen. Also, I hate the weather when it's too hot for jackets or jumpers and too cold for not. Maybe that's what happened to the mouse - silly bugger forgot his wittle mouse outfit.

~T

Destroying the Universe

Time is like a creepy guy on the train next to me right now. No matter how much you ignore the heavy breathing or narrowed-eye stare (oh god, why is he looking at me now?? Should I stop dictating this blog????).. No matter how much you ignore it, it will take you for a ride if you let it, and when it's done you'll think "No.. What happened to me?"

Seriously, this guy is kind of freaking me out a bit.

Oh shit, now another guy is staring at me, and I don't even have boobs!

So, about a month ago I started walking to random places. Not hugely random like bus-stop #2 on the 396's route (total coincidence- someone I don't stalk gets off there at 7:12 most every weeknight except Thursdays), but random places from my past. A little reminiscing, but also erasing. I walked past my old school, my old uni, my old man, my old work, and lots of places from memories. Some places didn't exist anymore, so I don't know how you could say I walked past them, but whatever dude, it's your story.

In a way it was like erasing the past, but then the universe ceased to exist so I fixeded it. I did delete bad karma, but also lamented lost opportunities. You shouldn't dwell in the past though, so I came back. But like this guy with a whisper-thin moustache and pungent rag, it does make you think about how quickly things can change.

Those places, while a part of me, are my past. They're gone now, and like my potential kidnapper, are best moved away from.

Now, the places I go might be the site of future memorable memories.

Anyway, signing off now. I have a sweet tooth, and apparently this guy has candy. See, I shouldn't be so judgemental.

~T

Respect the Unexpected

Time is like a taxi. You can't expect it to take you where you want to go if you don't tell it anywhere. It's not a Johnny Cab. If you get inside and say drive, you're going to end up in Newcastle. Potentially any Newcastle connected by land, since even a kick-ass water taxi is unlikely to cross the ocean, though of course you never know. Time will dump you there, too.

Sometimes you know where you want to go, and even have an idea of how to get there, so you say "Pardon my audacity, but I wish to travel to Liverpool in this fine motorised vehicle." (taking extra care to pronounce it as veer-hick-el, not vyr-kul so that you don't end up in the frozen north).

So the driver says "Is take to this road?" And you go "uh, sure." I mean the guy's a driver, he has to know the way. Well time screws you the same way. I mean, you know you want to be an astronaut or World Cupcake Champion, but time is always saying "You go moon next year, good yes?" or MY CUPCAKES FATSO!!! And time doesn't really need it, cause we know the whole 'curvature of spacetime' is just the nice way of saying time's so heavy, it created mass.

That's the real reason everything was 'Heavy' in Back to the Future.

At this point you get annoyed, and decide to get there yourself. You know where you want to go (anywhen but now). Even if you try to get there yourself, there's a bunch of taxi's in your way that go GRRRR MY ROAD. GET YOUR OWN DIMENSION, JERK

Also, sometimes it knocks you on your backside when you don't expect it.

Today I saw that. With a taxi, that is. Time is a lot less literal when it comes to physically knocking people over.

A woman was hit by a taxi in The City. She wasn't killed, lucky for her, and I didn't see the circumstances. What I did see is lots of people rushing out to help her, which was nice. Usually the tabloids and lunatic fringe like to paint this city as a heartless den of depravityNO WAIT THAT'S THE MAINSTREAM MEDIA. It was nice to see them so utterly wrong - now they can go back to what's important:

Reporting on Masterchef!

But to attempt some sort of cohesion here - both a taxi and time can take you places you haven't been before, and it's possible that along the way you'll see something and go "hey, i'll get out here." before you realise the skinny girl in the short shorts and a low-cut top is actually a guy and have to find another taxi.

If you have doubts about this, watch Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure. There's a reason time continues in San Dimas when they travel around - just like a taxi, the meter is always running.

~T

There's Never a Now

Time is like a river. Pshshshshshsh. Noisy! Well no, you can't hear it. I mean sometimes people might say time whooshed by, but they are lying. It might feel like it's passing you by so quickly that you imagine there's some huge gust of wind and your brain says "Wow, time's totally flying by right now." but it's SILENT. Even now it's flowing like a really super quiet river, running away from you with every tick of the clock. No, it's totally not the same thing.

Alright, so, sometimes I think a lot of nonsense. Bear with me though!

No, tapping your foot waiting for me to get to the point isn't the same thing as time making sound - it's YOU being impatient! Also, deluded to think I'll always have a point. Or ever?

So, it's like this. Time is like a river. If you drop a little splotchy of neon-pink dye into it, you're probably better off not drinking from the river and it's completely for the best if we instead settle on a hypothetical river instead of an actual one since this didn't go down too well with my 'Time is the Gulf of Mexico' analogy that I've since removed. So hypothetical river, splotchy pink, and pshshshsh (okay, so hypothetical time river makes a sound since I have no pictures to indicate the flow of water in this case). And then the dye moves along a current, and then it's gone. At any point, you could try to scoop up some dye, but you'll never really capture it.

The dye is you. Yes, you're bright pink, but you're confident in who you are and you really don't care what people say, because you're your own person DAMNIT! It hurts of course, but why should you change who you are? JUST LET ME BE ME!!!

Right... um.. where was I?

I had a novel/script/story/poem/blog idea once about a time-travelling fool that attempted to recapture a lost past by trying to relive a beautiful moment, prolonging it. I may have also had a dream to this effect, and it's entirely possible that I invented time-travel and completely messed with the flow of time and left my life in a disorganised mess from what it was meant to be.

It's also possible I didn't, in which case I probably should invent time-travel because hey, why not, right?

Anyway, something occurred to me earlier this week: There's never a now. Even as I type this, the words were created before I see them, even if just infinitesimally 'ago'. Yeah, this is already old news. For you reader(s) (please be s's!) that are reading it, the next sentence is the future, whereas these words are the past.

Also, I was very tempted to not have a next sentence to demonstrate the tenuous nature of the future's knowability (hush, it should be a word). Or to be a jerk. One of the two. OR two of them.

Please don't tamper with our chronological river. Keep our space-time continuum free of pollutants.

~T