Act 1. Scene 1. Verona. A public place.

Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs. Being purged a fire sparkling in lovers eyes, being vexed a sea nourished with lovers tears, What is it else? A madness most discreet, A choking gall and a perserving sweet.

William Shakespeare

Advertisements

And all at once I feel this. Oh, how it clings to me. It reels and calls me towards it, confounding destiny.

Hey peeps,

so yesterday I got to release my inner nerd and get my copy of Scott Pilgrim’s Precious Little Life signed by Bryan Lee O’Malley, the author. I went along with my partner in crime Succy, who took advantage of my fear of people and used it to make me squirm. On more than one occasion. In the end, I was happy with myself for saying hi to him and not quietly staring like the dweeb I most certainly am. A part of that happiness did come from getting the first frapino of the year. Delicious, despite my failed attempts to mix the chocolate with my straw and being called a noob by Succy. What a mean friend I have. Anyways, later that night, I went to the cinema and saw Fast Five. Holy crap, that movie was awesome. I’m not really an action movie kind of girl, but this has to be one of the best films I’ve seen. In my whole life. Not because it was life-changing, deep or had an important message. Because it was two hours and nine minutes of pure entertainment. Top notch. Oh, and everyone who’s going to see it, sit through the credits. Just do and you’ll experience some serious mindfuck.  Waiting anxiously for the sixth film now.

Tune of the day CXXXIV, because it’s a good song. Simple as that.

Pain.

“He says people live their lives out of the left half of their brains. It’s only when someone is in extreme pain, or upset or sick, that their subconscious can slip into their conscious. When someone’s injured or sick or mourning or depressed, the right brain can take over for a flash, just an instant, and give them access to divine inspiration. A flash or inspiration. A moment of insight. /…/ according to Plato, we don’t learn anything. Our soul has lived so many lives that we know everything. Teachers and education can only remind us of what we already know. Our misery. This suppression of our rational mind is the source of inspiration. The muse. Our guardian angel. Suffering takes us out of our rational self-control and let’s the divine channel through us.”

Diary, Chuck Palahniuk

Chains.

I beseech thee, O Lord, by Thy great mercy take us home, by the hand of Colonel Regan, take us home, in all Thy glory, take us home, ad astra, ad astra, ad astra…

– Isabel Finch, Chains

I’m currently reading Chains, by Laurie Halse Anderson, and it’s truly one of a kind. I like it because it describes how the life of a slave was, in a realistic and relatable way. When you hear about the history  of the slaves in America, it often comes off in a cold manner, the sole intent often being educational. But this book makes it all real. I feel like this teenage girl is real, and like I truly get to follow her on her journey, her struggle for freedom. It’s a beautiful story. Actually, it’s a beautiful book as well. It has a pretty cover, and the pages are lavender. Reading this book is a true joy for many reasons, and I highly recommend it.

…uhm…so…yeah.

Yo yo yiggidy-yo,

I’m just sneaking in a little blogging in the middle of studying. That’s going to be happening a lot now that I’m supposed to fill my time with more important things, although that is debatable, than surfing the interwebs. Anyways, so I had another one of those WTF-worthy dreams last night, and I thought I’d document it. I should probably make a “dream” category, since it seems to be a subject of importance. At least, to me. Okay, so here’s the dream.

I’m in this cubical room that’s entirely gray. The whole room is bare, except for the exceptionally old computer that I’m sitting in front of. I’m reading a book about the bird-apocalypse online, and suddenly, I’m inside of the book.

For some reason, I know that I have entered at a time before the actual apocalypse. I calmly walk into an empty storage room, but as soon as I’m inside, the door closes with a loud bang. I’m startled and start panicking. I frantically wiggle the doorknob, but the door is locked. I stand in the room, waiting for the apocalypse to happen, because apparently, I know when that is.

After a while, I know it’s over, and subsequently, I know that the door is unlocked. I go outside and people are running everywhere. I see families running to their cars and driving away, fleeing from something. I see hobos in corners, writing something on a billboards with blue paint. The hobos all have a blank stare and don’t look at the paper as they’re writing. I catch sight of a huge sign on a tall building, that says: “We will fly high.”

As I look up to the sky, I see that it’s nearly blackened by a huge horde of birds, some beelining towards the ground to attack the people. I instantly decide that I have to find a way out of the book, and the way to do that is to get in touch with reality – I need to remember sitting in front of that computer, reading the book.

For some reason, I can’t do this, and I start getting frustrated. That’s when Jacob Black walks past me, he has a determined stare and, obviously, a certain goal. Apparently, we have something (romantically?) together, because I shout his name, trying to get his attention. He continues walking. Then I realize that I just need to say it as it is (whatever it is), and in a matter-of-fact tone, I say: “I need you to kiss me.” He stops and comes to me. We kiss. A lot. With tongue. After that I kiss him on the cheek as a silent thanks and tell him to be careful. He bitterly says “It’s all his fault.” (whoever he is), and reluctantly promises to hurry back. Then a light flashes before my eyes and…I wake up.

Okay, this is another dream I don’t know what to say to. It’s obviously inspired, if I can even call it that, by some book I read about on Wikipedia that’s about the apocalypse, by Eclipse, and by a bunch of other stuff I can’t think of. On the up-side, I got to first base. Which has never happened before in a dream. Or rather, has never happened before period. I have strange dreams when I’m ill. Alright, I have strange dreams period.