Cleaning the attic, I have come across all sorts of strange artifacts. Today, I picked up a blue notebook and opened it, to discover that it was the free-write journal I was forced to keep in freshman year of high school – I believe we got 5-10 minutes each day to write in them, and I apparently took full advantage of the fact that no one would be reading them. The entries reek of senselessness and a bit of pretension, so it’s a bit embarrassing, but I wish to commemorate that time past by typing some selected entries up here.
I used to write a lot of stories which were simply characters saying irrational things. I suppose I once found it funny, although they hardly elicit laughs from me today. If you are hoping to know what I did in high school, you will be very disappointed. Not a single word refers to my everyday life, and most of the feelings are distant or fictional. Here are a few excerpts, my personal favorite being the 2/12/01 entry which records “observations” about rocks, after a decoy first line, presumably because the teacher was nearby:
September 8, 2000
2:57 PM Sunny, Clear
80 degrees F
“Step up to the plane, you silly VOLES!
This is a VOLE PLANE, for voles only. Selovs can just go and drink milk in the lobby.”
“Well, sir, the Voles aren’t listening. They’re running under the tires for shelter!” (shudder) “Man, the VOLE PLANE is big.”
“Yep, sure is, it’s the biggest in its class.”
“Really?”
“Really?”
Of course, of course, sir, the Voles are not boarding right now.
[rest of entry truncated]
11/3/00
77 degrees, Sunny, 2:44
BLUE MARBLE
I doubt that blue marble will eat today
‘Tis too warm and too cold,
The foods are of recession,
My tables are paling,
Smiling, I look at blue marble,
Why?
Blue marble will be eating today,
But there is no way for him to eat.
DESK
I know I say it. They won’t believe me. The desk has shifted; I don’t like that.
How could the desk move?
-CREAK-
Spake into my astonished face,
Desk, dare-thou to move againe,
Smile not,
Eat not,
Creep but an inch
My anger is welling,
quiet, quiet, shall it move once again?
-CREAK-
No games, not I,
I play no games,
Neither shall your games
Fool me to play,
No games, not I
[Two more of these .. things .. “Temperature” and “Cheese,” have been omitted]
Nov. 17, 2000
Cloudy, cold 2:45 PM
CAT
It’s a rainy day,
A gloomy day,
An all in all
Quieting day,
But it’s not a sad day,
No, sir,
It’s a day to be spent
With a cat.
(various doodles accompany)
You tiptoe on the rugs,
Keeping a straight face,
Dreamily murmuring,
Delicately flowingly stepping,
and then it’s
An hour’s past
Your body aches and cries
For a cat.
Meow!
Cries he that is Cat,
You feel joy swelling up
Engulfing all thoughts.
You are smiling,
Your eyes closed,
You envision that you are spending the day
With a cat.
Grateful whispers
From his petite mouth,
Rummaging through the piles
You have compiled
You seem annoyed,
Yet you are friendly and kind,
Your smile is big because you’re spending this day
With a cat.
You pounce about,
Petting soft Cat-y,
Wielding food
And joy,
You can’t think
Of a care in this world –
You’re spending this day
With a cat.
The clouds retreat,
The sun beats down,
You look out the window,
Wondering,
Cat leaps onto your lap,
You’re the one purring, because you’d just spent a day
With a cat.
– – – –
1/5/01
Sun / 2:41 PM
O.K., well, this week I feel pretty strange, but maybe … …
Of course, I will help you; you’re my best friend
Why’s it so hot!
If it weren’t so quit–
If it were lonely
Would it be happy?
My cat
NO!
Cat. Not mine.
How can we say
We own others?
It’s slavery.
Equal Rights for Everything.
If water had rights, would we be dead?
I can live forever in my atoms.
Don’t you wish love were eternal?
No! What is good
without evil?
Maybe if we threw away evil,
It’d just be a big clump ‘o junk.
Would you throw away your flaws?
If blue were red
Would I blush blue
Or red?
Am I afraid
Or am I scared
Or am I fearful?
If hair were hard
Could we still cuddle in it?
My feet are warm
but only compared to outside
What is,
What isn’t
The above isn’t a line. In fact, it is a series of mounds on a smush of life.Can it be that love’s just a joke?We had the ability to live forever
How did we know that we had to turn it off?
We take what is for granted,
but I am sure that everything done unconsciously has a reason.
There is a reason why we are so inefficient:
Our bodies don’t function as well as they could.
Evolution didn’t create stronger beings, it created equal ones.
The ones unfit die because they aren’t good for the species.
We live for the species.
Even as we try to only focus on ourselves,
Our bodies know that our population as one is the one tha tmust liv eon, not us.
Our cells know that
For the good for our species, our old die in favor of our young.
January 26, 2001
2:43 PM
77 degrees –> classroom
Sunny & clear 45 degrees –> outside
Sometimes, I just go and collapse onto the soft, leafy grasses that my mom gave to me for my birthday. She said that they were specially made just for me in her lab.
I’m pretty much a lair cuz I have covered myself with paper (metaphorically, of courses), so people think I’m just a bland white. But I’m hardly the subservient-scientist-under-the-queen kind of character. I mustn’t let this be understood, so I write in English, an ancient language that died out 900 years ago. Iyens is so much easier and florid, but this will have to do.
My “mom” feels guilty for having produced me simply to create the “Urime`ntian,” but I’m just glad that I’m the only unit in my batch. But that only makes me more lonely. The other people have their sister units to talk to and conspire with, and I must live on my own.
I have to concentrate most of my life on synthesizing a god, and I have the basic plan finalized. However, I think I’ll put some twists. They are too ignorant to realize what will happen when the psychic, nearly-immortal gods are released into society. It’s so stupid. The perfect organism, a god, would be … all it is. there is no change, no need to change, and just existence. People aren’t ready for this. They want meaning in their “children’s” lives and their own’s. If the project is finished, only clone will have to be produced every million years. I won’t be heir to queen anymore, as the gods will be our rulers until all of us die out. The gods’ll be silvery-white …
Monday, 2/12/01
70 degrees 2:43 PM
Cold outside
Today, I am taking notes on the textural softness of cat fur.
My teacher is so far away, so I will take notes on the severe hardness of a rock.
* When you poke a rock, it sometimes jumps. This is a natural reaction, due to the force of the point concentrating on the breaking point of the rock. By applying minor pressure, it reacts as to preserve its form. However, quick transcension of the forces will cultivate a calm, invisible rift that will rip the hardness and thus ruin the rock.
* Applying water to the surface of the rock will tan its surface and emphasize its wrinkles. This is why rocks like to sit in the sun or underground if they are too ashamed of their looks.
* A rock that hits a head remains hard as before. However a scratch on the surface will created a canyon-like white streak, revealing rock-blood. Such wounds can be attended to but are extremely hard to heal.
* By examing a rock’s underlying infrastructure, we see an intricate society woven together. The solidity is caused by the uniform existence of cloned molecules. By creating diversity in these molecules, the rock becomes unique, having its own speial pattern.
* The rock fur isn’t really fur but a fashionable moss. In general, female rocks like this rock-fur, but rocks don’t really have genders, so the previous statement is void.
* By placing a bomb on a rock, it proves its determination and honor, enduring the blast to protect fellow rocks. Every time a rock gets blown up, be ashamed that its dedication is overlooked.
* Naive rocks may bounce, but elder rocks stay put.
* If the temeprature is too high, rocks can mutate into their liquid counterparts. Do not touch mutated rocks.
* Usually, rocks are spelled “r-o-c-k-s,” but cool rocks are dubbed skcor(s).
Justin
Sunny & Clear 72 degrees
There are more rocks than one rock. Or more than one. Some rocks can have more than one. Three rocks hold 3 > 1, but Three Rocks >/ 1 rock at all times.
In order to examine this desk, I will read what other people have written [on it]. A person has mispelled “communist.” [Note: I mispelled mispelled and had to cross out the extra “s”] That makes the person look stupid. That was probably not his/her intention.
A green cat is pigmented green. Cats only have orange and black pigments, so there is no such thing as a green cat.
However, if a person paints a cat green, is that cat green?
Before I say that it is, let us ask that if a person paints his/her face blue, is the person blue-skinned?
According to logic, the cat is not green, though it appears to be. In itself, the cat is still its original color.
So, if a cat painted green is not necessarily a green cat, then a house painted blue is not nessarily a blue house. Only the paint is blue, and the house is still a house.
So, if only the sun’s light is yellow & orange, then the sun is not necessarily golden. The atoms themselves would be clear, and the light released would be like the paint.
Just like paint can be peeled off, can sunlight be “peeled” off? Then, the sun would be clear. If the sun were clear, then it’d still be the sun but Earth would not be bright. So, if the sun isn’t seen, is it still the sun?
So, then, the “sun” as most describe it, is really the sunlight or the sunheat. Do we see only the paint of a ahouse?
If the sun, to us, is its heat & light, then a house is its paint and the green cat is actually green paint.
If 70,000 cows ate 70,000 blades of grass, it doesn’t imply that each cow ate a blade of grass.
