"I don't really think it's a hallway at all..." Visceral, Atavistic Dreams

I dreamed about a lot off intense conflicts, abotu people I love forgetting me, ignoring me, underwater, houses underwater, built to withstand pressure. Conversations with a man as he was attacked by a pirate Spawn, swimming through the water and the Abyss-like pressure wall, to strangle him. Nathan Fillion as a delivery person.

[10.03am: Possibly because I finished Qabalah, Qlippoth,and Goetic Magick, right before bed, and the concepts of "unwanted" and "Underneath" were very prevalent, in my mind.]

I don't know. Crazy shit happening, today. Was watching a Palin Rally in Ohio, this morning, and a Sizable portion of her audience "BOOed" when she mentioned Joe-The-Tax-Dodger.

Watching McCain, and he seems kind of desperate, latching on to this "measuring the drapes" thing, when he's the only one I've seen be called "Mr. President" by a supporter, to a cheering crowd, and all he did was smile and say "Thank you." Doesn't that seem a little weird? Desperate, kind of brittle and haggard, likethere are some decissions which are really heavily weighing on his mind, or like he's finally realised what Google is Actually For.

Möbius strips are a strange thing. Some times the only way to move on is to travel the same fucking ground.

But it's still gonna be a Great Day.

Before, I was disappointed. Now I'm Mind-broilingly Enraged.

As previously noted, I was rejected by Michigan State University, because "it really does not seem like a good fit."

Today I receive the following call for papers, in my e-mail:

'The Association for the Study of Esotericism is seeking just a few more articles to complete the next volume in the series Studies in Esotericism, to be entitled Esotericism, Religion, and Nature. The collection will be published by MSU Press in late 2009 / early 2010.'

I want EIGHT cigarettes. RIGHT NOW.

Today. Words.

Strange day. I don't really have much for you, other than that.

An experiment: Replace your favourite expletive with the work "cake," for the course of a single day. Watch the dawning horror and hilarity.

Huh. Just noticed: Slut. Lust.

Decompression. Non-explosive.

Originally uploaded by _Vorfas_

I need this:

1. Stop talking about politics for a moment or two.
2. Post a reasonably-sized picture in your LJ, NOT under a cut tag, of something pleasant, such as an adorable kitten, or a fluffy white cloud, or a bottle of booze. Something that has NOTHING TO DO WITH POLITICS.
3. Include these instructions, and share the love.


Now go vote, tomorrow.

Hipsterism, Emo, and Failed Love

[Re-]Read this: http://wolven.livejournal.com/1452129.html

Now. Hipsters and Emos approach every aspect of their lives as glorified children; without responsibility, with no communication skills, no accountability.

And then they write most of their songs about how, shockingly, their love lives suck and everything fails.

Isn't it a little possible that there's a connection, there?

Do we not

[11/04/08 8.16pm: Supposed to read: "Do we not suppose that this willful denial of consequences might have an effect on our love life? Maybe?"