Starting off.

By: SpikeSpades Mood: other Date: 10/13/2008 19:32:30 Music: Iggy Pop - "Loco Mosquito"

I've been told that writing a blog somehow manages to relieve the mind- I'm not sure how, but I'm willing to find out.

So apparently, I'm going to be writing about how I'm feeling at the particular time of me writing it, and what I had done during the day.

To make it more interesting, I decided that I'll make a list of "emotions" I felt during each event which happened during that given day, just to show an example of something called, "complexity," or how one thing or event seems to effect ones self.

 I woke up around 6 or 7 this morning with a slight headache on the left side of my head, mostly behind the eye. My face itched to all hell as well, and it seemed the skin on my eyelids had become inflamed once again. Annoyance.

I proceeded to get my lazy arse outta bed, after about 20 minutes of me rubbing my facials vigorously against my particularly scummy cushion. The damn thing has an ecosystem growing off of it, I swear. It survives off the generous amount of saliva gifted by me- They must worship some sort of mucus deity as well, I'm sure. Anyway, after tripping over my wolfhound, Jay, I stumbled out into the hallway of the house I currently room in with a few other assorted people. I soon made my way to the medicine cabinet a removed myself a couple of assorted tablets and popped them boys on down. To say the least, I'm grateful of my pill swallowing "talent", probably has all to do with my ridiculous amounts of saliva. I then trumped to the lavatory and fell asleep on the nice, cool floor. Blank.

I found myself awoken by a few nudges to my aching ribs, which seemed to ache from a small incident involving falling from a certain light rigging at the theatre. Nothing too serious, but I've got a nice set of bruises to show from it. I can't actually recall who was nudging me, nor do I recall what I did for the space between 8 AM and 12 PM. I will start from what I remember though- I fed my rats, dog, and ferrets. New rat, by the way. He's a hairless, completely bald with the exception of tiny hairs that sprout from his face and underbelly. He looks like uncooked poultry, and smells of lavender and soot. I named him Wez. Secure.

 I took a trip outside today, not for work, but for play. I rarely leave my abode to do the unnecessary anymore, I guess paranoia has set in more than anything. I hate being alone, but at the same time, it's almost the only thing I want to be anymore. I don't want commitment, and I don't want to hurt anyone anymore. I've been content with my current fuzzy companions. Although it does make me feel bad to reject hanging out with people- I can't help it. Hence me buying a friend of mine a 20 pound/40 dollar leather jacket off some biker to show how sorry I was. I truly am, the whole day he'd wanted to go play some music with me back at his apartment. I got some free noodles and crab cakes from a real nice bloke who runs a noodle stand whom I knew back in England. So I fed him as well. He started to cry because he was so pleased with me, which inevitably led to some sense of satisfaction from me as well. I wish I wasn't a bastard, however. Somewhatly Pleased.

 As I went to feed my little white mouse, I noticed an unmistakable lack of motion and animation coming from the pile of tissue paper he quite fancied to snooze in- He died during the night, apparently. I felt bad that I couldn't shed a tear for him, but I'm sure he's off onto better things or whatever. I bet he was reborn a walrus, he sure looked like one. troubled

I did a bit of tidying to get my mind to a better state, and gave my ferrets a bath. They hate it, and I always end up having a nice series of scratches on my hands and arms- But they really do stink. Soon after, I gave myself a soak- I think I needed it more than they did. sleepy

I ate "tater tot surprise" from the din-din place for folks like me down the street, and washed it down with whiskey and Valium. fatigued

I slept for a few hours, then got online to check stuff. I ended up writing this- And truth be told, I do feel a little bit better. Drooping tired.

Cheers, I'm off to bed,

Spike