2004-05-04
Potaotes and Late Nights

hearing: nothin...
reading: Miracles - C.S. Lewis
wearing: pjs

I was in bed. And I couldn't sleep. Darn loneliness. My music wasn't helping either. Just making me...lonelier... Darn music. (What...was that just an allusion to the real meaning of the last entry's metaphor? *gasp horrors and shock* Acually, you have no idea what the heck that would mean anyway. HA!)

Now I am having conversations about how profound mashed potatoes and dressed up plates of rice are. Basically, I am discussing how playing with your food aids a person in unravelling the mysteries of the universe. Not seriously debating of course, just jesting.

And that is the sort of thing I do late at night. I get very...creative... Sometimes I even "wake up" more. Usually, I do.

Which means I should have something profound to ejaculate at such a ridiculous hour. But really, I am drawing the well dry.

Well ok, not really. Have thought about a lot tonight. I have had far too much time to myself, which means that I have been questioning everything again. I have been questioning my own thoughts and "rationale". I have been questioning existences and questioning whether my questioning is valid and profitable.

I decided that all of this was lame and ridiculous and that I needed a life. So I set to work creating myself a little fantasy world with dancing trees and faeries and glowing pools and flowing hair and bright pinpricks of stars, until I realized that that wasn't much better than all the questioning I was doing before. It was, possibly, lamer. So I abandoned it all and took a shower instead. Then I relapsed into thinking and questioning. Darn Megan.

And thus it goes. Some girls are quite demented...

before & & after