survival to me is all centered around time and sleep. the manipulation of time. which is folly. time always wins. the clock will always strike midnight before you can blink. you were too busy to notice the clock striking twelve weren't you. i don't get enough sleep. i am sick. is there a correlation? am i sick cos i don't get enough sleep? or do i sleep to avoid the sickness? put yourself in my shoes. wait that's impossible. that's the problem with the world today. it's the holiday season and most of the shows i am forced to watch and do the addendum imdb perusing and extra videos and facebook and reddit and wikia and tv.com and av club tv club and toonzone and ign and amateur critic writeups from sad, thirty-year vets and bubbleblabber and the show's own website and rogue reviewers on youtube, or yubtub, for are on hiatus. theoretically this would mean more free time for me. it doesn't. it somehow never does. i wouldn't know what to do with actual free time. i haven't seen Blue Is The Warmest Color and i so desperately want to. that makes me blue and warm under the collar. the last DC Superhero animated film, or cartoon movie, i saw was the one just(ice) before (or right, on the side of right) the one with the Flash visiting his hometown. Center City? center of my (DC Extended) universe. Central City? central standard time, the one zone i haven't experienced. i used to watch those films religiously so it's hard being an atheist. the culprit? instagram. my life can be demarcated pre- and post-instagram. don't get me wrong, i love instragram. that's the problem. can you love something too much? is there such a thing as too much love? i wonder what God has to say to that as He is essentially all-encompassing neverending effusive Love. does God question His existence? but it keeps me up at night. i used to scoff at the Instagram Insomniacs Club when i first started scrolling, when i was a wee rookie barely able to touch the screen with my baby fingers. now instagram has turned me into an insomniac when i wasn't one before. i get four hours sleep if i'm lucky. it's a bit depressing when you hit the bottom wall scrolling and breathe a sign of relief and finally look at the clock and see 3AM. wish i had some relatives to talk to..................................maybe not. but there is no other way. i could pencil in all the videos and watch them later after i get a good night's rest but then i'd be in a perpetual cycle of logjams, backlogs, and Mountain Dew which is the logger's sprite. i'm due for a break. my eyes are weary, i have to constantly splash water on my face. i wish my faucet still had that nozzle where you could shoot sweet liquid directly into your eyes and avoid the time to take another shower. i am propped up on Vanquish and Airborne. you're supposed to chew that large Airborne wafer vitamin, right? i dunno, it's not working for me. you always get the worst colds from the ones you love. George, Carrie, i pray for you as my eyelids grow heavy. look for the prayers when i close my eyes, those are the more effective. it's hard to stand. drowser's tip: eat plenty of Cheerios with bananas cut with a knife. the bananas must be cut with a knife or they'll get mushy in your mouth. nice clean slices. i need a vacation. but i haven't any money. i'd even risk going on a cruise at this point. o what i do for old nihilist films and cut brandy. i still have to do the Doctor Who review...for some reason...i hope the room's available...and it's quiet...wish i got boat money for those. but i'll be okay. i just need to sleep. and stop sneezing. sleep is the best therapy. no talking to strangers involved, it's great. is that Pick Boy in the picture up top? if this reads as a typical myspace emo rant, it's cos it is. anyone else? ya feel me? the thing is, the reverse is also true. i somehow get through each day, i somehow get all the work done, and i move on. that is the miracle of survival.
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