The Foe of Fatigue

I contented a need yesterday that I have not required since my imaginative flow was expressed in coloring books, Simba was my one true love, and my knowledge was acquired from my pious screening of Sesame Street. At 8 o’clock p.m., I went to sleep. This is a happening I am mortified and reluctant to disclose. But, there was no other alternative. I promise. For days, my endeavors to write, think, read, or to do any of my intrinsic conducts were impeded by exhaustion. So, I either had to cease my soul’s habits or go against the grain of my nature and disregard the night. I opted to give the Destroyer of Life, which I call sleep, a blow at my character this once. In truth, I fashioned this foe of fatigue by occupying my time of sleep with reading or thinking. Bah! O how I abhor sleep and long to stay awake always. Why can I not transcend this human constraint? Auspiciously, in giving my antagonist the upper hand there was a special burn on the sunrise this morning because I rose above the strike. All of the contemplations that had unconsciously amassed and were hindered by my zombie-like condition, emptied out of my person. The unoccupied spaces on the edges of my lecture notes, I crammed with illegible ideas. At work, I almost had to clean the thoughts emanating out of my pours off of the dishes along with the leftover sustenance of lunch. I will doubtlessly squander my sleeping hours catching up on all I neglected in my weariness this week, thus refashioning my foe. Alas…

An Undersized Avalanche and the Superiority of White

I have many deep and reflective matters that I could put in writing. But, some shallow motive within me beckons this particular blankness on my blog to be about the really simple and pointless things I contemplated or observed today.

Ahem…

I never put ice in my drink. The underlying cause for my aversion to adding such coolants to my beverage is that the method of getting the ice into my cup is slightly scary. I discovered this intimidation today when I offered to get a friend her drink and she requested her glass be filled with ice. Approaching a machine I rarely visit, I mimicked the actions of the guy in front of me. I put pressure on the metal lever with the plastic cup and a fast rushing throng of solid liquid came forcefully out of the appliance. The consequence of wanting a cooler drink is an undersized avalanche! You truly do not know when the freezing flying pieces are going to impede their flood or if they will resolve to go in the preferred unfilled container instead of striking you.

My only interaction with the beast of an entity called The Government is taxes. With this only contact to judge the system, I conclude complete abhorrence and insolence towards it. Not because I do not want to compensate money, I will gladly offer my share, but because it requires me to obtain a certain set of skills which I do not possess and a deadline to not only acquire these abilities but perform them flawlessly. The consequence of not succeeding at these two feats; trouble! Numbers elude me. Forms with business jargon baffle me. I should shoot the government in the knee!

White/clear things always taste better! The only Life Savers I will consume are the clear ones. My preferred gummy bears are clear. The chalky valentines’ day hearts are horrible expect for the white pieces. Jelly Beans are the same.

Balloons should not be popped. It is like slaughtering happiness.

Cheerios and Contemplations

I am sitting on my never made bed, satisfying my mouth with Honey Nut Cheerios and thinking. My zombie like stare contrasted to the fixed motion of my arm delivering tiny rings to my machine like chew, certainly creates an peculiar scene to my studying roommate. I am grateful for her contrast in bubbly character in this moment. I could describe her in one word; pink. My roommate prides in her pinkness until it explodes all over her life like an overblown piece of bazooka gum. The cheery pastel of femininity is the true shade and her nature and does not match the darker shades of my countenance. I am darker than blue. This fact of my disposition is what has led me to my Cheerio binge upon my polka dotted sheets simply over thinking. Cereal and contemplation; marvelous!

So, this week I:

-Raised my hand in class for this first time in college. The question asked begged for my personal reply and I knew to leave it hanging in the abyss would be to slay the very make-up of my being. So, I risked the raising of my arm. I turned red once I noticed the gathering of gazes yet I answered proudly. I did it. I hope to never have to again.

-Studied for hours in the sun. I am almost done thawing out from the blasted winter.

-Received legitimate mail!!

-Watched Power Rangers and relived my childhood desire to be the pink ranger and slay the maniacal menaces of the underworld.

The First Battle

There is a battle to be fought,
Before the weapon is in hand,
Or the enemy is in distance to strike.

The battle is in the mind,
To take captive our fears and doubts,
To secure our thoughts and
Command our mental faculties.

To walk into the shadow of death placing our
Destiny in the hands of God,
This is the Heart of ancient Knighthood,
When every day was a battle in the mind.

—Sir R. I. Tulak

Tasteless Truth

I’m the kid who shoves their hand elatedly in the cookie jar and because they seize too many scrumptious spheres cannot get their filled fist out of the container. My cookies are thoughts. My overexcited zeal to think gets me in a disarray of joy with an ending consequence of impossibility to consume all knowledge that I feel I must. Today, I arrived at the actuality that I have to let go of a few of my desired ends or I will remain immovable in this maddening realm of infeasibility and never actually enjoy what I am granted as human to understand. It’s an astringent reality. I’m going to pout immaturely for a few days more and then permit my mind the absence of these contemplations. I do not know if my obstinate mentality will consent to this but I should attempt.
* pushes face into the dark masses of my bed hoping the unseen folds of my pillow would absorb my thoughts as quickly as they captured my capability to breathe*

I fail.