Lalalalala... LALALA! LAH!

Today I realized that I have an inexplicable yet undeniable weakness for tiny little brown paper bags. You know, like the kinds that the nice people behind the cash register put cookies or bookmarks or pencils in. The days tick by so slowly. It's not a bad thing, nor a particularly good one. Just a thing. I've felt slow lately. I feel like I've just been shuffling around to the same, tired, circular dance for decades. I feel boring, and a tad lonely. It's not necessarily bad. It just is.

There hasn't been much inflection in my routine lately. Not many ups or downs. A few for certain, but it seems like the beginnings and ends of days are marked by these infrequent ups and down rather that by the cycles of day and night. Things bleed together. It becomes hard to remember what day it is, or when you last saw someone.

                                                       poop

Notice that spacing out my post like this makes it seem longer.
I feel something though. Yesterday, I felt something familiar that I've missed dearly. Something that's been almost entirely absent from my life for the past few months. I felt a familiar, prickly sense of lonely wonderment. For a few hours yesterday, the lines between daydreams and reality felt weak. I wandered aimlessly, and acted without reason. I stared at things that weren't at all beautiful, because I needed something to stare at. I made things strange and realized that I like people. I like people. They're so strange and sad and beautiful and ugly. I like people.

Yesterday I took a long walk near the bike path. Along the bike path, there are thickets of trees by a creek. In the thickets of trees, there are sticks that no one sees or cares to look at, because they're just sticks in the bushes. I found a large one, and put it in the middle of a dirt road that ran parallel to the bike path. That's all.

                                                     weiners

I've had a lot of dreams within the past ten days or so. I had one where the world ended, and there was an abandoned hospital and thousands of children. I had another where I walked familiar places at night and talked to secret, lovely people. I had another where my friends and I were a band of medieval warriors. I had another where I was married. I had another where a girl I love left me. I had another where my friends and I were roadside bandits. I had another about a pirate ship and ghosts.

Something occurred to me the other day that made me a bit sad. It occurred to me that I'll probably never leave this planet. I'll probably just stay here on Earth my whole life. I'll never go to space, or see our world from afar. I'll probably never leave this place and get to see what happens outside of my own narrow scope of things. This world is the place where everything I know and love happens. Everything I've learned, I've learned here. Everyone who's lived and died has done so here. All teachers, lovers, artists, rulers, peacemakers, assholes, mothers, daughters, sons, and fathers are confined to this infinitely tiny speck. Everything I know happens here. I want to escape. Even for a few minutes. I want to be able to see my world entire as nothing more than a forsaken little blue thing, containing everything that I have ever cared about. I want to just watch as life on Earth spins onwards, as per usual. I want to see where day and night falls on the houses of my friends and loved ones. I want to watch from afar as time flies by, carrying with it the infinite billions of thoughts and concerns of everyone on planet Earth. I feel like it would be beautiful and depressing beyond measure.

I love a girl named Jade. Sometimes I stop thinking about her, and sometimes I grow distant. Sometimes I become angry with her or question whether or not we'll work. I always come back to the same realization though. I always come back to knowing that without a doubt, I love her. I always know that wherever I go, I'll want to come back to wherever place she is. It's an odd thing. It's not just some passionate, mushy sentiment that I constantly have to stoke and keep alive (although there are sappy sentiments aplenty which accompany this). It's just something I know. It's a fact to me. I know it just as well as I know how many ears, eyes, toes, and fingers I have. It's a nice thing to not have to tell yourself that you love someone. It's nice just to know.

I like mornings. I want to see the ocean.

I found a crashed spaceship. I'd flown it once. I found a magic wand. I can't remember where I left it.

I wonder what's going to happen.