first night of pesach

today i feel: unpleasant, mostly
today i'm hearing: nickel creek -- helena
today i'm thinking: only true friends pwn your life; ironic but true

I've decided that I am no longer allowed to be left alone on high holy days. Because I get all thoughtful and spiritual and emo. And, as we all know, those are not good things for Kirius to be. No. They are not. Because I'm a naturally melancholy person and being alone on high holy days brings in all sorts of 'thoughts' about 'family' and 'commitment' and 'disappointment' and then? Then I want cloves and Denny's coffee. Which would be just fine if I had a.) cloves, b.) a car, and c.) any fucking clue how to get to Denny's. Naturally, I possess none of these. So I end up listening to mellow music and get all mellow (ie. borderline depressed) and feel like writing. Except I have nothing to write. Which creates a whole new world of problems that we don't need to discuss. So there.

I guess that I was afraid that if you rolled away, you might not roll back my direction real soon.

I think that Jack Johnson songs should be outlawed. Because Jack Johnson is just so pretty and soft and calming and that's great and all, I can support that, but he brings about Thoughts. And Thoughts, as ridiculous and cliché as this sounds, are very dangerous things. Honestly, I don't need to have Thoughts. My life would be so magnificently easier if I skipped that whole Thoughts stage and found my way into blissful, blinded contentment. I'm sure that's very ignorant of me. But I just don't want to have Thoughts anymore. I want to go back to being naïve, but better read than when I was naïve. I mean, I'm sure I'm still all bright-eyed and rose-bespectacled, but it's a lot less delusioned than it used to be and that really gets to me sometimes. Obviously, it is impossible for me to delight in the small victories of 'growing up'. Well, you're a poopy head.

I was good tonight. I finally ate a bowl of cereal when my stomach started rejecting all of my love and Chelsea got some ice cream in me on the premise that we were both being emo-kids. And it was tasty ice cream. And I actually went out into the hall and socialised with next-year's suitemates and gave the Buttons a bit of we!time, which they kind of needed. And when they left to go to some Dijurido concert (and I know that's misspelled but I've seen Cowboy Bebop more than the actual instrument and I really don't care if that makes me uncultured), I did my readings for Pesach and that was really good. It felt good. But then I got antsy and my oral fixation kicked in and that's when I rediscovered my massive collection of mellow emo-hippie muzak. And that, my friends, is the cause of these superfluous sentence structures. Yay! Alliteration!

I seriously think I have a hefty case of ADD. I can't stop proving this possibility to myself. Cause for alarm? Probably. Call for action? Likely not.

Our room is that very awkward temperature right now where it's too cold to wear sleeveless shirts, but rather uncomfortable to wear jumpers. Honestly, I should just put on my jimmy-jams and curl up in bed (where the temperature is surprisingly perfect for me). But I don't feel like changing. And I think I'm getting kidnapped to do laundry soon (read as: I hope I'm getting kidnapped to do laundry soon as everything I own reeks of ass) and that's kind of inspiring me not to change into jimmy-jams and curl up in bed. As happy as my jimmy-jams are, they're not outdoor-world appropriate. Alas. Alack a day.

I feel like reading Alice's Adventures in Wonderland again. Honestly, I should just find a copy of Through the Looking Glass and read that, seeing how I never have, but I kind of want the stability of knowing how it's going to end and that that ending is delightful and happy. This is probably a very silly comment. I honestly don't know what I'm saying. I turned on '90's altrock and lost my waxing-philosophical train of thought. Sorry to disappoint.

I think I'm going to go look at fan art for a good two hours. Goodnight, all. Hope you are well.