Not terrible, but bland.

What a dull life we live in our cars and houses on the streets of brains splattered across the lanes, we should quickly run towards the source of happiness. When I speak of joy, I mean not the joy one experiences when in some sort of fun event, no, I mean the joy that is peace of mind, the constant tone that lets one know that life is living. I feel like I need to reach this state, or I'll die sadly in the end. The end isn't quite near or anything, but I like to contemplated it sometimes. I like to think about who and what I am. I like to think. I don't know what I'm thinking right now. I don't want to talk about anything because my brain isn't working the way I want it to, because I'm not reacting the way I want to to the assets of the world, to the ugliness of the world, to the scary things, the beautiful things, the smelly things. I want to react like myself. I want to be myself. That's the correct way of saying it; isn't it? I see the sky, well, actually, I don't because I am sitting in my room typing on this keyboard, but I can sense it through the window due to the light that's trying to break its way through the curtains and succeeding slightly.

What is love? Is it something that one feels when one is afraid of someone else's death? Is it a monster waiting beneath a cemetery for the mourners to leave, so he can eat the slightly fresh meat left by said people? Is it a car that runs out of gas, but luckily does so on a hill so it can coast it's way all the way to the next station without much trouble? Is it a man who lost his entire family and wept till he died on the side of his desk due to lack of food and the will to live? Is it a woman who lost her unborn child while her uncle gave here a ride to his house on the countryside that she loved more than anything else in the world? Is it a treasure chest beneath the bottom of the sea that contains nothing but heat and energy? Is it a wave that refuses to tumble over and stays up until it is forced to due to a near by island, gaining so much force that it kills every man, woman, and child on that island? Is it a plane that losses its wings, but still tries to fly because its captain and pilot tell it to, which makes it crash into the sea, killing all of its passengers? I don't know the answer to this question, but there are a few metaphors that you can mess around with in your head.

Now, for the quorum. Damn, I'm talking like that Finnegans Wake book did to me while I tried to read it over and over until my mind caught some sort of meaning from it. How difficult it is to read that which you do not understand contextwise or otherwise. I see the trees are beckoning me, so I must go and climb them, or I'll dye my hair the color that it is, which is actually not really technically a color. Well, that's it for the well of wonders. What else can we probe?

The sun once told me, through its setting, that I was destined to loose my life some day far away, and I spoke back to him by being silent. He then smiled at me and faded out of existence. At least, that's what I thought I did until I realized that he had only gone down and would come up behind me like a birthday cereal killer the next morning. Wow, how fun, right? The sun as compared to a serial killer just because it goes down than comes up behind you mysteriously, is quite a mystery.

History as she is harped, rite words in rote order.

DUhhhhhhH!