Monday 08, week 02

12:44 PM: the sky is pure, undisputed blue. My stomach is miraculously stable and healed. The only downside is that I have to do homework, but hey. Can’t have all the things, can you? Some might say everything, but I’m not some, so I am mysterious, with my own language…
12:47 PM: I had a dream that me and my family visited these “gay people who aren’t actually gay” which was weird. But they were really fun, albeit breaking all the rules that define being gay by being the opposite sex, but eh. Rules are boring πŸ˜‚
12:50 PM: homework, homework, burn and die… why do I need to know all the US states, I mean.. just… agh!
6:37 PM: distracted by my Greek mythology assignment, I have failed to produce material. Waah.

Smile at everything. It confuses people πŸ™‚
In the grand scale of things, we’re all just aphids. Tiny, compared to the universe. It’s comforting in a way. I know, I know, “Why the hell does feeling small comfort you!?” But it just does.
I’m sorry, guys. My ambitious nature is slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. That’s such a metaphor. Sand. It takes years to form, be ground down, then when you try to pick it up and look at it it escapes through the gaps between your fingers and you can’t stop it and close them, no matter how hard you try. The same goes for water. But they’re different. Like, a long, great relationship or life is sand. But water… water is a one night stand. Water is a day alive. Water is five seconds, then it’s gone.
Fire is best used to describe me. Prettiest in the dark, warm. Can die down to a few embers and still flare up. Can be so sudden. Can be fast, or slow. It makes distress almost everywhere it goes. But water can kill it. And sometimes it can’t. Sometimes it’s strong.
What else can be used as a metaphor… hmm. We’ve got sand, water, fire… ah. Stones. Pebbles.
We’re all pebbles on a beach. Every year, even every day, a little more of us is worn away. Some of us are small, some are big. Some are weak, some are strong. But eventually we’re all beaten into sand.
And candles. We’re also candles. We burn and burn and burn until our wick runs out, then all that’s left is either nothing, or a whole lotta wax. A candle burned away completely is a fully lived life. A candle only half burnt… well. You know.
Maybe there were humans when the dinosaurs existed, but we died out along with the dinos and aliens took our remains away for some weird reason. Maybe to make necklaces out of our bones and our teeth.
Maybe people tamed all the great monsters that existed back then, like the Mosasaurus or Dunkleostus. I can just imagine a cave man coming along like “imma ride you” (that sounds so wrong) and got eaten. Then they digested our bones. And never shat them out πŸ˜‚πŸ™ˆ
Has anyone who’s reading this ever seen that tv series or whatever it was, Ancient Aliens? It makes some pretty good points. Always leaves me in a hypnotised state, kinda like that time I saw a tv show on life on Mars and/or visiting it. My eyes went like flying saucers… ironic really.
You know that song called “Street life” (at least, I think that’s what it’s called), well, me and my mum always thought that she said “streetlight” and still stubbornly sing that to this day πŸ˜‚
Fun fact: my favourite classic is White Fang. I lurve that book.

Gonna post now πŸ˜€ enjoy the endless metaphors and existentialism πŸ˜„

Btw, thank you toΒ for the follow and the likes πŸ™‚ everyone go check the blog out :3

See ya


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