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May. 2nd, 2007 12:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Onward and onward and onward I go. Where no man before could be bothered to go. Till the soles of my shoes are shot full of holes. And it's all downhill with a bullet. This ramblin' and rovin' has taken it's course. I'm grazing with the dinosaurs and the dear old horses. And the city streets crack, and a great hole forces me down with my soapbox, my pulpit
Dear 30. Good bloody riddance. For the most part, you won't be missed in the slightest. Also, when you see 21 in whatever hell realm really bad years go to suffer, give it a solid kick in the temporal teeth from me. I seem to have very poor luck with supposedly meaningful years. At this rate, is anyone up for a suicide pact in 9 years or so?
31, you have a very, very easy act to follow. Admittedly, I haven't been incredibly thrilled with the past 8 minutes, but I choose to blame that on 30's lingering influence. I am already favorably disposed to you, as you are a prime, and while you're not also a fibonacci number, well, I wasn't that interested in seeing the other side of 89 anyway, and besides, we can't all be perfect (especially if we're prime) (Yes, a truly miserable pun that I'm sure will largely go unnoticed).
So, apparently I am still a dork. I guess that's sort of a relief. I'm sadly and entirely unsurprisingly also still in a pretty bad mood, partially thanks to the day itself, and partially because I made the mistake of succumbing to a bad case of hope last week, and am now paying the incredibly predictable consequences thereof. I would find the Pandora myth a lot more reassuring if the last thing to come fluttering limply out of her box were resignation instead. Resignation by it's very nature is incapable of disappointing, which cannot by any stretch of the imagination be said about hope. Feh.
I think I need more things to fill my weeks up with. This whole whiling away time between club nights doing nothing thing is sort of beginning to get old. I love bookclub, but that's only a monthly. The weekends generally take care of themselves, but Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and most Thursdays could pretty much be replaced by me sleeping for 72 hours and I doubt I'd notice the difference. Anyone have any suggestions? I'd like to be able to host something here, but that's just never going to happen, especially as I inherited a couple dozen old boxes of mine that had been idling their time away in my mother's attic for the past 6 years or so. There's some well and truly embarrassing stuff in there. Also, plenty of things I've ended up with multiple copies of that I'll probably toss at interested parties. Actually, speaking of, anyone wantBuffy season 1, Jan Svankmajer's Alice, or The Machinist on DVD? It'll be a very hobbit birthday this year.
When I look back upon my life, it's always with a sense of shame. I've always been the one to blame
Dear 30. Good bloody riddance. For the most part, you won't be missed in the slightest. Also, when you see 21 in whatever hell realm really bad years go to suffer, give it a solid kick in the temporal teeth from me. I seem to have very poor luck with supposedly meaningful years. At this rate, is anyone up for a suicide pact in 9 years or so?
31, you have a very, very easy act to follow. Admittedly, I haven't been incredibly thrilled with the past 8 minutes, but I choose to blame that on 30's lingering influence. I am already favorably disposed to you, as you are a prime, and while you're not also a fibonacci number, well, I wasn't that interested in seeing the other side of 89 anyway, and besides, we can't all be perfect (especially if we're prime) (Yes, a truly miserable pun that I'm sure will largely go unnoticed).
So, apparently I am still a dork. I guess that's sort of a relief. I'm sadly and entirely unsurprisingly also still in a pretty bad mood, partially thanks to the day itself, and partially because I made the mistake of succumbing to a bad case of hope last week, and am now paying the incredibly predictable consequences thereof. I would find the Pandora myth a lot more reassuring if the last thing to come fluttering limply out of her box were resignation instead. Resignation by it's very nature is incapable of disappointing, which cannot by any stretch of the imagination be said about hope. Feh.
I think I need more things to fill my weeks up with. This whole whiling away time between club nights doing nothing thing is sort of beginning to get old. I love bookclub, but that's only a monthly. The weekends generally take care of themselves, but Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and most Thursdays could pretty much be replaced by me sleeping for 72 hours and I doubt I'd notice the difference. Anyone have any suggestions? I'd like to be able to host something here, but that's just never going to happen, especially as I inherited a couple dozen old boxes of mine that had been idling their time away in my mother's attic for the past 6 years or so. There's some well and truly embarrassing stuff in there. Also, plenty of things I've ended up with multiple copies of that I'll probably toss at interested parties. Actually, speaking of, anyone want
When I look back upon my life, it's always with a sense of shame. I've always been the one to blame