You ever have those moments where you feel as though you don't have control of your body? and have no idea what the hell you're doing as you're doing it?

it was a nothing moment. a brief, insignificant little thing. I walked up the hill and saw the dog, not understanding why
-the entry is embellished-
or was it a deer? or a lion? I walked back the way I came, I was too scared. I couldn't sit on the stone bench across from that thing, afraid it would come across the street and attempt to bite my throat off, even though just moments earlier I'd imagined myself running into a mugger who would should my face off in the middle of the street because it suited the moment
and I looked at the sky, at the stars, at the things I couldn't see because the street lights and the random noises of people screaming were in the way, obscuring my vision and my enjoyment, a pitiful exchange of safety for an overall atmosphere of confinement
-don't look at me. go away. stay away. don't come closer. I don't want anyone to see me right now-
and I was being moved by a figure that I didn't know, I couldn't feel him but part of me knew or felt that he might be there, telling me? - no, there was no voice, there was nothing but my own emotions guiding me towards that destination that no one else could see in sight, telling me but not telling me to relive those moments, those dreams, that monstrosity up at the Rose Garden
-and I looked at my old entry from April, the one where I said that I wasn't a robot. I hate the term. and how I kept looking straight at this beautiful creation of God and couldn't appreciate it for what it was, a fucking tree-
sitting on the steps waiting for Mom and Dad, staring at the pebbles in front of my piano teacher's house. they would always take forever because they were shopping at a chau or 99 ranch and neglected the fact that my lessons ended at 11 30 and I'd just sit there bored for an hour replaying tiny toons episodes over in my head-
and all those stupid insects that kept coming at me. I tried sitting down on the bench but I didn't want to obscure the names of all the people that had died. it felt like I was doing them an indignity
-lying on the bed, wondering-
- every several weeks in a while I'll have a dream where we're suddenly best friends again. I'm always happy in those dreams, and then I wake up and remember that we don't talk anymore and I'm sad again. I'm making light of nothing. -
because he died in the middle of the crosswalk, got run over by a car and we never saw him again
I refuse to talk to you, because I am stubborn and incompetent and quite frankly don't care about you
-
are you okay?
and I stood there, leaning against the stop sign at the corner of hilgard and scenic, staring up at the sky. it was a bright blue black. the lights were blocking the stars that were out, and I kept hearing random spurts of laughter from people across the distance, and a car once in a while. I wondered whether or not Olivia was living here, with her roommates that I met that one time I visited on Cal Day. and then I stared straight across at the other stop sign in the distance for a while, not really thinking anything. I am as guilty as him.-
a lady asked me for the time along the way back. it might've been 7:30 at the time. I was surprised at how much time had passed since I came to the Rose Garden. Time of me asking why-
and when Ben Linus confronted Jacob, asking him, "What about me?" whereas Jacob follows with, "What about you?"
- can I really just choose not to play Counterstrike? I just don't feel like it. I might enjoy it for about an hour or so, but I don't find that hour of enjoyment worth it. I'll just end up uninstalling it the same day anyway.
- I couldn't get into the same things that other people get into. but then again the people who do tell me to get into them never get into the things that I like anyway, so why should I bother anyway. -
and I looked up at the ceiling for the first time since "music for looking at ceilings" and noticed that the fire alarm was gone, and there was this golden hook that elan would later accidentally rip off -
this is an experiment. which one will you let go?
this one.
- I am not a simple fellow of simple means. I am not a complicated fellow of complex means. I do not think, therefore I am pistachio -
and one of my 32 other personalities was based off of Kaito Kid from the Detective Conan series, complete with a white fedora and tuxedo and cape. he died.
- reach out to the stars.