I guffawed.

Yep, that funny. It’s partly because I can relate to having to come up with your own analogy when writing a high-school essay, but mostly because they are so stupid.

Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36pm traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19pm at a speed of 35 mph.”

One of my favorites. I give you the worst analogies ever written in a high-school essay. Warning, hilarity will ensue.

Click here for something that will make you laugh your ass off.


So we’re bound to linger on, we drink the fatal drop…

Some days you feel transparent. Invisible. Like you try to get through to people, but not only do they not listen, they don’t even acknowledge your presence. You scream for attention, but people just look through you, to their reflection in the mirror. Enchanted by what they see, unknowing of what you see. Unknowing of the fact that you see. That you’re standing there, trying to get through to them. Sometimes you feel like you’d do anything to be noticed, but that it would be of no use. Your attempts would be futile. Some days the feeling of hope is particularly small. You feel it shrinking, struggling. But it never vanishes completely. It’s always there. The hope that someone will actually see you. Other days, it’s the opposite. You feel looks burning you from every direction. They leave marks. You know that they are permanent. Ugly scars that will burden you in the future. You would give anything to not be seen, to just blend in with the scenery. You just want to feel the relief of not having someone scrutinizing every move you make. You want to be able to just breathe without having to think about the responsibilities you have in life. You want a second to stop and think, to clear your head. You want a moment of peace. Even if that moment is fleeting. Invisibility can cause misery, and it can give solace.

I’m naked. I’m numb. I’m stupid. I’m staying.

We can’t shake it.

Term of the day: Lucid dreaming

I’ll start by explaining it a little. Lucid dreaming is when you’re dreaming and are aware of it, either you’re conscious of the fact that you’re dreaming as soon as you start or you eventually come to that conclusion after a time has passed. Having lucid dreams has often been linked to being able to control them, as both often happen in the same dream.

I read this blog post, and unsurprisingly enough, it perked my interest. Pretty much anything that has to do with the mind interests me actually…just thought I’d let you know, since it’s not reflected in this blog at all. Wow, sarcasm translates really well into text. Funny how I was sarcastic when saying (or writing, I should say) that sarcasm translates badly in writing. As if that’d translate well? Oh, the irony. Where was I? Right, the post. Anyways, it was written by Alex Gaskarth, a member of All Time Low (Yes, I am aware of the frequent mentioning of this band. You got a problem with that? Didn’t think so.), on the subject of lucid dreaming. Apparently, he experienced it and from what he’s written, it seems pretty amazing. And frightening.

So, I decided to do what I normally do, I wikied that shit (it’s a WA thing) and read about it some more. Apparently it can be used to “cure” nightmares, and by nightmares I assume they mean the kind of nightmares that occur very often and scars a person mentally…or maybe the other way around, a person who is scarred has nightmares because of it. It says that it helps if the person knows it’s just a dream, and I guess that makes sense. Another thing I read is that you can increase the chances of experiencing lucid dreaming if you keep a dream journal, you keep it close to you and write down what you’ve dreamt as soon as you wake up. I think I’m going to start writing a dream journal, maybe not so much for the lucid dreaming, but more for the sake of it. Sometimes, I dream some really bizarre stuff, and it would be interesting to be able to read about them later, when I’ve probably forgotten them. Plus, it will look really funny to have a book filled with bogus “stories”.

Something I first read in the post, but didn’t quite understand until later, is that when Alex knew he was dreaming, he wanted to look in a mirror, which magically appeared (So cool!), because he had read in an article (Is it bad that him reading odd articles makes me feel a connection? Yeah, that’s what I thought.) that that’s what you should do. Here’s where the frightening part comes in, he describes the experience like this: “what I saw was an eerie, shadowed reflection of myself who’s features were distorted to the point of scaring me enough to force myself awake.” I swear to God, my heart started pounding so hard when I read that. I mean, I was literally quivering with fear. And a sick part of me got morbidly interested. Like, I wonder what I would see if looked in a mirror? I will probably regret even wondering in the first place if I ever get the chance to see the answer, which, apparently, is the same reaction Alex had (No, I did not think/say to myself that we are kindred spirits! Yes, I do know that that’s farfetched…kinda. Okay, it is! Jesus, can’t a girl dream? Pun not intended, but I wish it was *gigglesnort*). Now that I think about it, it’s always when I’m afraid that I get interested in something and have to (Yes, have to. Even if I try to suppress the curiosity, it niggles at my brain until I give in.) read about it more. It’s actually the same thing when I see a horror film or thriller on TV, the rational part of me switches the channel because I know I’ll have nightmares, but the abnormality-loving part of me always changes back, just to switch it again. This goes on, and in the end, I’ve practically seen the whole movie…in flickers. Back to the topic. We were at…deranged reflection in the mirror part. Then I read, on Wiki, that there are a couple of ways to prove to yourself that you’re dreaming, if you ever happen to be able to control your dreams:

  • You can do the usual “pinch me, I’m dreaming” thing, although it probably won’t work. Even though you don’t feel the pain of a physical pinch, it can be simulated by the brain. Which will leave you thinking that you’re awake, when you’re actually asleep. So, this classic is obviously…bullshit. This is, in my opinion, highly unsettling.
  • You can look at a text or a digital clock, remember what it says, look away and then look back. In a dream, the content will likely change. Is it just me or does this sound…highly unsettling?
  • You can try flipping a light switch. If you’re dreaming, the light probably won’t change. This is only slightly unsettling, the grandeur of being able to make a light switch appear by pure will makes up for the creepiness…a little.
  • As Alex wrote about, if you look at yourself in a mirror, your reflection will probably be blurred, distorted, incorrect or frightening. Being able to make a mirror appear does not make up for anything in this case. Still highly unsettling.
  • If familiar music is playing, you can see if the lyrics have changed or if the tempo of the song has increased. *silence with eyes big as saucers* Yep, highly unsettling.

I just wanted to add that sometimes during a dream like this, you will dream that you wake up. Then, thinking you’re awake, you will do your daily routines…while sleeping. So it’s a dream within a dream. Highly unsettling? I think so too.

So, in conclusion, this is some freaky shit. I’m scared, and I almost don’t want to fall asleep tonight, but I’m also fascinated…and desperately want to experience this (yes, I know I don’t make sense whatsoever. Thank you for pointing out that I’m abnormal.) And, for some reason, fascination always trumps fright. Now that I think about it, it’s actually mind overpowering body. Interesting.

Tune of the day, because the music reminds me of dreaming, it’s slack (that’s what she said) and relaxing, but at the same time it’s a bit hectic and busy. I like that it has a small amount of words, it let’s you enjoy the music…sometimes, words are unnecessary. Cheers for still reading:

The American Analog Set – Hard to Find

(Oh and btw, even though this post contains the same subjects as the ones brought up in the movie Inception, I did not have it in mind while writing. Ironically enough though, I did see that movie the other week. I recommend it. Not that that is of high importance, the whole world does too. Okay, I’m exaggerating. It’s still good though.)

I could go on and on about these things, but lucky for you, my eyelids are heavy as lead and it physically hurts to type right now. I guess that’s a sign that I should go to bed, right? Right. Then why am I typing this? It must be the lack of sleep, it’s affecting my ability to think logically. I love that I am able to write that, but still won’t go to sleep. Some one just logged on with the status “sleeping” included in the username. Obviously that person is asleep. Talk about multitasker, chatting while sleeping. Good to see the snarkiness is intact. Who gives a fuck about logic? All I need is my sarcasm and I’m good. Okay, I’ll stop now. No seriously, this mini-ramble within the already rambling post is getting longer than the actual post. I’m going to sleep now…srsly. Yay me. Okay, I’ll stop. Good night.

I could sleep forever these days, because in my dreams I see you again

Term of the day: La petite mort

Okay, so that’s not really the focus of this post, but since it’s mentioned, I might as well write a little about it. The direct translation of La petite mort is the Little death. It’s in french, if you didn’t get that, and it’s basically an expression for the word…orgasm. To me, a girl with little…actually zero experience, orgasm screams (literally, ha ha) awkwardness. For some reason my mind automatically goes to pornography, which is even more awkward. Anyways, la petite mort sounds so much…bigger. Like something grand and dramatic. A small death sounds gut-wrenching. Which, from what I’ve heard, is the same thing that describes the…climax (God, it’s awkward to even write about it in an anonymous blog). So I think, this alternative term fits the act so much better than what is used today.

But, this wasn’t really what I wanted to write about today. I was looking through my documents and files and found one called Pretty. And in it, there was this quote, from an unnamed source:

“I was dead from love’s bliss; I lay buried in her arms; I was wakened by her kisses; I saw heaven in her eyes.”

Pretty indeed, I thought. So what did I decide to do? That’s right boys and girls, I wikied that shit. And for some reason I came to a wiki-page about something called Liebesträume. My first thought was, that’s a fucking odd word. Turns out, it means dreams of love in German, I thought it was very pretty and now have a new-found respect for the German language for having a word for that.

So, Liebesträume is a set of three solo piano works by Franz Liszt. The songs are made from poems, which I thought was lovely. Each piece is about a certain form of love. The first is about saintly, or religious, love. The second is about erotic love, and here is where my little quote comes in (as a part of the piece), and the third is about unconditional mature love. I thought this set sounded beautiful and found it pleasing that I found a pretty random quote, which lead me to more beautiful things. So, ofc, I wanted to share it with you. And yes, the cheese-factor is going through the roof, your point?

It’s beautiful, about love, albeit in a more tragic way (death, and such things), and has some piano in it. It’s no Liebesträume, but I love it anyways. This is the acoustic version, which I prefer immensely over the original one.      Tune of the Day:

Bloc Party – Signs

Two ravens in an old oak tree, one for you and one for me. And bluebells in the late december, I see signs now all the time…

The sand, silvered, carries the moon on its shoulders…

I’m still reading Special Topics in Calamity Physics, and I come across so many lovely parts, especially descriptive ones. Here’s one I just read, and just to remind you, I’m not reading it in English so my translation may be a little sketchy.

>>Only a few realize how meaningless it is to chase after the answers to the big questions in life<< Dad said once when he was in a whiskey mood. >>Everyone has their own erratic and unpredictable agenda. If you just have a little patience and don’t stress them, they’ll throw themselves at you when they’re ready. And don’t be surprised if you’re completely stunned into silence afterwards and little cartoon birds chirp around your head.

Even though this is a conclusion I’ve reached to myself, and many times at that, I still ponder over the meaning of my life. I know the only thing you can do is just let life take you where it may but I still can’t help trying to know everything in advance. I guess it’s my nature. Or maybe it’s in our nature as humans.

Tune of the day, the epitome of feelings only a song can evoke and describe. Words are sometimes lacking, but music always fulfill it’s purpose:

Minus the Bear – Pachuca Sunrise

Mellow out dudes

The rhythm of my footsteps crossing flatlands to your door have been silenced forever more.

I’ve taken notice to a certain type of people, people with a certain thing, but I’ve never been able to describe what it is. I’m currently reading a book called Special Topics in Calamity Physics, by Marisha Pessl, and in it, there’s the perfect description. I understand that I sound really fucking  vague, but trust me, you’ll get it when you read it. I’ll write  the passage here, but it may be ruined a little, since I’m not reading it in english and have to give a half-ass translation. Anyhow, here it is:

He smiled at me. I thought he would be a headless freak, but to my great surprise, he was a Goodnight Moon (Brown, 1947). A goodnightmoon has bedroom eyes, shadowed eyelids, a smile like a hammock and a silvershimmery, sleepy look that most people only possess during a few minutes before falling asleep, but that goodnightmoons have from morning to evening and a good while into the night. Both men and women can be goodnightmoons and they are adored by all. Even teachers worship them. Teachers always turn to a goodnightmoon when they’re asking a question and despite the fact that they get drowsy, completely incorrect answers, they say “Oh, wonderful” and bend and twist the answers like a thin steele wire until they start sounding like something brilliant.

An excerpt from Special Topics in Calamity Physics, by Marisha Pessl.

(I’ll write more about the book when I’m finished reading it, although I’m enjoying it quite thoroughly at the moment as well. You should read it.)

This is so fucking convenient, I now have a name for them. A perfect example of a goodnightmoon is Ian Somerhalder, he’s not the most…lively(?) man on the planet, though he seems very intelligent, but you still hang on to his every word when you see him getting interviewed. I mean, have you seen his eyes? I got talked into giving Vampire diaries a chance, soley by seeing those eyes. And even though pictures suffice (actually, that’s an understatement), you have to see him in action to witness the full effect. A classic goodnightmoon.

Tune of the day, with the same drowsy, enchanting feel as the archtype goodnightmoon (mentioned above):

Death Cab For Cutie – Transatlanticism

Yeah, so uhm…I’ll write later, I guess.