I’ve been reading a lot to pass the time. First I read Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, which was a completely different experience than I what I expected going into it. I was surprised that I felt sympathy for both Dr. Frankenstein and his monster, but the most rewarding facet of the novel was the way in which the monster understands the complexity of human nature yet chooses to reduce it to “abhorrence to anything imperfect” in the blind rage of his own misery. I’m also reading In the Spirit of Crazy Horse about the FBI’s renewed assault on Native Americans in the 1970′s when huge uranium deposits were discovered on reservation land. It is difficult for me to read too much in one sitting because I feel myself getting angry, and I am not an angry person, and I will leave it at that because I must resist turning this humdrum post into a rant against the white man with their white-man religion and white-man false treaties.

I bid this post adieu because it is unreservedly aimless and an arrant stain on the good name of the Internet.

That’s right: I have had a great deal of spare time, and my only friends are exclusively people who think too much about the various scents of Rod Serling, namely myself and my cat. I have spent these past months inching towards college graduation, writing about the urination schedule of the imprisoned Toussaint L’Ouverture, and staring at a wall. The wall I speak of is blank and white, and I often think I hear voices coming from it or figures moving within it. My cat, Skywalker, sometimes stares at it with me until he calmly states, “Enough wall-staring; there is little time for you to enact my vengeance upon the framing section of Hobby Lobby,” but the violent acts which my cat commands me to do are another blog post entirely.

So, I leave this post knowing that I may not write another for quite awhile, and also knowing that it is entirely possible that I may soon write another. I originally planned to write about something important, such as Israel using a fistful of Ginsu knives to unnecessarily slap an obnoxious child, or Barack Obama moving into a house which an obnoxious child formerly used as a fort from which he shot spitballs of disaster at everyone, or how my poorly conceived metaphors for current events reflect my disdain for obnoxious children and proper metaphor construction.

But do those things have anything to do with nostrils whiffing Rod Serling?

I think not.

But those thoughts are usually personal and need not be read by anybody, as they are not very engaging thoughts, nor are they tidbits of wisdom. However, I often think such things as, “Wow, what I just wrote with this terrible ink pen, in my journal made of paper derived from banana leaves whilst sitting on a plane, concerning the habits of first-class airline passengers whose only special treatment is a dish of candy, slightly more comfortable seats, and a separation from us lowly coach flyers by a flimsy blue curtain, is something that maybe someone else might find interesting, especially people who read extremely long run-on sentences.” 

So, here I sit, writing a blog entry which I may or may not write about in my non-tree-paper journal later on tonight when detailing my uneventful Sunday. There is really no point to this entry, no point at all, other than the fact that it may or may not constitute an interesting thought which whoever is reading this may or may not enjoy.

The smudge arrived by bus not three weeks ago, seeking work after being fired by his boss in Houston (for discovering an embezzlement scheme), and ended up in the suburbs, somehow. Cold, desperate, and alone, the smudge broke into my home and rested on my wall, where it soon starved to death considering it had not eaten in quite some time, nor realized its hunger in its depressive state. Its body is slowly decaying into a permanent, frivolous stain on my wall. It does not affect me in any way, shape, or form, as it has no way, shape, or form of its own. It simply remains a smudge on my wall, forever.

Since I’ve been back, I haven’t done much besides getting back to work and taking it easy. I was glad to see my cat after the week I was gone, since he was apparently horribly depressed in my absence. (My cat, Skywalker, follows me around wherever I go when I am at home.) I am trying to lose the five pounds I gained in Montana, due to lack of exercise and watching what I eat, by getting back into my running/exercise routine. The monotony of my day-to-day life will surely destroy my sanity by the time the summer break is over.

I’m trying to finish it before the 30th, when I leave for Montana. I have bought several books to read there, which will probably be my only vacation activity. (Una semana de vacaciones con mi familia). I have bought a journal to write in while I’m there in the mountains.

Things I have remembered today that I should not forget: My sister has borrowed several movies from me (All of the X-Men movies, The Machinist, Mirrormask, and she still owes me a new Equilibrium DVD). I will most likely never see them again, as she can be forgetful and utterly irresponsible about 95% of the time.

My public speaking class only has four days left. But what a four days it will be. Two speeches to give and a panel discussion. Throw in a final exam, (which takes place on my birthday), and you have a week of weeks.

But back to my point, this reading clerk is on a level of greatness I cannot even begin to express. I have never even seen her on C-SPAN before. Yes, I watch C-SPAN.