July 13th, 2002

Salt Precaution

A bit of fun is hard to come by

To-day was a day that certainly kept me on my toes.

Awakened at 7:40 am by the buzzing of my vibrating pager, where it lay on the table beside my head. This was my friend Trisa, requesting a favour.

Unfortunately, the number she left on my pager's voice mail dinna work. And since her cell phone was not working either, I realised there was nothing for it except to visit her at work in person.

Trisa works at children's hospital, where, during a regular day, only the very privileged are permitted to park within a reasonable vicinity. I suppose other children are encouraged to simply learn to live with whatever it is that is ailing them, or to die.

So, peasant that I am, I was forced to park several miles away in front of a Japanese mini-mall. Despite this, I managed to walk up to Trisa's desk and startle her only about two hours after her initial page. Not bad, ne?

Trisa and I were chatting for several minutes when we realised that a general hush had settled over the office. Peering over one of the walls of her cubicle, I was naturally very startled to note one of Trisa's co-workers, a dark skinned, black haired woman, had gone through some noticeable changes. For one thing, her skin had turned to a greenish grey, her hair had become a tangled, filthy mess, and her eyes were glowing a sickly, pistachio ice cream green. Her jaw was sagging open as she looked back at me with only the barest, most primal of intelligence. She was, I realised, shuffling towards me, slowly and evenly.

"Uh, Trisa," I said, "I think something's wrong,"

I won't bore readers with many details, but suffice to say, Trisa and I spent much of the day barricaded in a broom closet while, as we later learned, the zombified populace of Kearny Mesa, Clairemont, and Mission Valley went on a lumbering rampage. I don't even know HOW we got out of that one.

Oh yeah, and it reminded me of Quake. Just one of many of my games--did I say many? Perhaps it would be more accurate to say ALL of my games--that does not work with Windows XP. I went looking for the patch that's supposed to fix the problem, but naturally Microsoft could not be expected to bend over backwards and make it easy to download a reparation for their fuck-up, could they?
  • Current Music
    David Bowie - Heart's Filthy Lesson
Salt Precaution

I have a headache, yo

Ungh. That's all I have to say. Ungh.

But just for fun, I shall say some other things too.

Why are there so many white jellybeans? I love white jellybeans. Today I might go see a movie with my friend Trisa. Although my instincts are saying that it's not going to happen. So later I'll check my notes here and see if reality ended up matching, just to see how my psychic instincts are workin'.

Growing increasingly worried about Cryptess and Richard. I hope I'm just being silly.

I've been thinking more on how I'd never know about it if they died, and that led me to a feeling of general meaninglessness as regards human life and the impact individuals have on one another. I've tied that into my general hatred of people and I've come to the conclusion that I was meant to be a hermit.

I feel the relationships I have with inanimate objects and works of art are a thousand times more fulfilling than most of my relationships with other human beings. If not all of them. One of the primary distinctions between humans and Everything Else, as I see it, is that humans tend to carry on about completely meaningless shit. Humans cling to the fucking mundane like a life raft in the oh-so-wicked sea of Interesting Things.

Like someone will put on a big fucking scream-n-spit show about how the picture on their television isn't ABSOLUTELY perfect, and at the same time not challenge themselves to the slightest degree to ponder and learn from a wonderful movie they might watch on said television. Or at the most, these people will only dig lessons that, as they perceive it, already fit in neatly with their preconceived notions.

And it gets so fucking--grr--oppressive listening to people grind on and ON about how the most important thing--the only thing--in life is just surviving, that emotional growth is just like shitting--at times necessary for survival but ought never, ever to be discussed by descent people, and must be avoided at all costs if possible.

I'm hating people more and more I swear. I wonder how long before I start making a real fool of myself . . . I mean, these people just don't seem to merit my patience or self-censorship at all anymore.
  • Current Music
    William S. Burroughs and Tom Waits - T'Aint No Sin