unreality….it happens

i don’t know what happened today, but it was strange, and it isn’t the first time it happened before. i was working, pretty tired, didn’t want to be there, the usual.

then all of the sudden, things became strange and i felt like i wasn’t really there. i was a part of this larger system, things just clicked into place, and there was no wasted motion on my part. every fumble, every action was plotted out, and everything i did just made sense, in a grander scheme of things. my mind detatched itself from my body, and i was just there, doing things. i felt like i had slipped through the floor and landed in a parallel dimension that was almost exactly the same, but there were differences in the tiniest details. i didn’t actually see any of these details, but i just sensed that everything was not as it had been before. i was devoid of emotion and i found myself just doing things to do them, smiling, moving, talking, none of it was forced, i was on a track and there was no way for me to do anything to divert myself from this track.

the last time something like this happened, it was due to not sleeping for a couple of days, but i have been sleeping, so it shouldn’t just nhit me all of the sudden out of the blue like this. it’s strange though, like i’m this puzzle piece that just realized it was a puzzle piece. part of something larger, only fitting in one spot.

reality just became distorted, and i felt like every question i could have possibly answered would be answered flawlessly and immediatly, but i couldn’t just do it then, it would come to me when it needed to be there.

it has definatly been a strange day today since that happened, but i have definatly enjoyed it, a little dose of unreality is healthy every now and again. i really think that it might be that i don’t have any mental days off where i do nothing mentally stimulating in particular. my days off include socializing, or school, and both take large amounts of concentration. maybe all the concentration spilled some chemicals over to an unused part of my brain and sent random signals around the thing. or maybe i was touched by god. i don’t know, it could be anything.

i thought i’d write this down, but i think i need to go embrace it some more, maybe something will come of it. but if it doesn’t come to me now, then it will someday.

typing while standing. the new way to be? or probably just something to spice it up a bit.

this is really great, i’m in the mood to write something, but everything strikes me as inane, and not even worth documenting here. at the same time, this is a bunch of self-rightous crap that i pile down to allow myself some form of writing outlet in a convinient fashion.

i guess in the end, i’m trying to kill time because i’m programmed to study really really hard because that’s what i did all last year, and now that i mostly just work in labs as opposed to doing them, my finishing classes are a bit of a joke. i mean, after you take biochemistry, genetics, and developmental biology in a quarter, all with respective labs, everything else just seems like you barley have to try to get the same mediocre grades that you always get. i always wanted to just try the not studying tactic to see if i get roughly the same grade i do when i work at it all week, but i’m too chicken in the end.

risks of any type are not my forte, besides the calculated risks that fall heavily in the favor of success.

i went over to one of my friend’s yesterday and they fed me this fabulous meal, which seems to happen everytime i go there (mostly because i think they eat on a gourmet level all the time). but anyways, i just had to wash dishes so i could feel like i was contributing something to the meal, and not just mooching.

theni realized that even at this low stress job i have, i can still get into hyper-stress mode. even at school, i can get into this high stress zone, where i am on high alert and everything matters. i thrive on this shit. i’m laid back but if you put pure unadulterated goals in front of me, i start slathering like a beaten and starved german shepard with a piece of meat in front of it. i know that on a level, i hate having to ride my bike to school, i hate having to go to school, and the same goes for work. there’s this inherent laziness that’s at the foundation of my soul, and its in a constant struggle with my hard-working tendancies. all the while i am doing things like going to school and work, and all i can think of is “dammit, i just want a day where i can sit around and do anything i want to” and yet when i have that oppertunity (which is basically the summer) i end up keeping myself just as busy with people and activities. when i do sit down for an extended period of time because everyone’s busy, and i don’t have any responsibilities, it’s still not as i envision it. everything about everything is so built up in my head, that when i actually get to it, it’s not what i was expecting. this isn’t necesarily dissappointing, it is just not what i expected it to be.

except for this ciggarette i had a couple nights ago.

i don’t smoke them that often, but i had a few beers after a day of studying all day and working all night, and i had a cigarette from this pack i found in a theater from the previous weekend.

i dragged smoke from that bitch and it was like i could feel the nicotine radiating through my lungs to the rest of my body. that cigarette was a poetic vignette to every other cigarette i had smoked, and the endless possibilites entailed to you by inhaling burning leaves through a cotton filter into your lungs.

it had all that it had ever promised as a cigarette, and all that i could ever expect from it. it promised no more than it gave me, and didn’t skimp when asked to go the whole nine yards.

it glowed in irrational glory, and shimmered in the dumbing incadescent porch light from my neighbors. me holding this burning, dried plant in my hand gave me more perspective about why i ingest chemicals, or perform such rediculous rituals, than most of the crap i pretend gives me something for nothing.

it was just me and the ciggarette, neither of us judging, basking in what we could provide to each other. i thanked the particular tobacco plant that had provided this stunning perfection of marlboro red, and i went inside completly satisfied, and actually wishing that this glorious creation could have lasted longer than it did.

it was a strange experience to say the least, almost like a regaining of innocence only ot lose it all over again, but with a perspective of having lost it for the first time.

i guess that being concious can sometimes be a curse, but when you get down to it, it really has some perks that make it all worth while.

i swear, there is some as of yet immesurable force in this universe that dictates everything that happens.

some days your just wake up and you know that it’s already not going to be the best day you’ve ever had. i don’t know if this mental attitude maybe sets you up for a self fulfilling prophecy, but i think that the attitude you have throughout the day just sets you up for how you’re going to handle the things you encounter.

today wasn’t terrible, but things just definatly keep going wrong. details are boring, but little things happen, they pile up on eachother, and all of the sudden, the day is over, you survived, only to start the next day with things pretty much back to normal.

Today is one of those anomalies that happen every couple months or so where the first and foremost thing on your mind is to go to sleep so that the day can be over, but of course, that’s the only thing that you can’t do. it’s strange, but it seems like there’s more to it than just a series of random events.

it’s all trivial in the end anyways. all the things that i do throughout the day, or crave to do, i can’t look back on it and recreate it. that pizza was really good today, but by the next day, would it have even mattered if i consumed it in the first place? i can only remember that it was good when i ate it, and that the next time i eat pizza, i’ll get one like that because i remember it as being good.

jesus, how many times have i whacked off? so many times to count, and impossible to keep track of. everytime i do it though, i remember it was good, i live in the moment for a bit, and then:

“well, that was fun, off to the next physical experience”

my brain feels like it doesn’t even uptake information anymore and my attention span is shorter than ever. i don’t even know how i’m still in school. everything i study is hammered in to be forgotten within a week.

my entire life is a vague recollection of physical experiences, studying, eating, sleeping, listening, fucking, loving, hating, and a whole menagerie of the things i can’t remember, or care not to. i keep going for the sake of going, and the question of “why”was thrown out awhile ago.

just keep going and something will happen, right?

i guess when the only thing to complain about in your life is complaining, you’ve thrown yourself into this infiniteloop of un-understanding, and there’s no end in sight, no where to run, no one to turn to and if you keep going for the sake of going, youwonder how the hell you got there in the first place, and what you’re going to do whenyou get there anyways, because you feel trapped, but not by something of your own design, seemingly something of someone else’s design, leaving you crippled and unable to actually go anywhere, because the lack of control that has always been there gets amplified by the roundabout questioning that invariably ends up at the same juncture that you started at with no understanding gained, no understanding lost, just a waste of time that seems terribly valuable since you are allocated a specific amount to do with whatever you want and if its wasted, it’s no one’s loss but your own and you’re the one who defines “waste” anyways and if you don’t keep going, maybe you should, because what the hell else do you have better to do?

that was kinda weird, i just hammered that out and it kept going. i wonder if my subconscious is trying to tell me something. the mental fatigue i’m experiencing probably allows my subconcious to rise from the depths and have some playtime for a bit, since the concious mind has no idea what is going on, and is too tired to care.

if that were true though, then i’d really hope that it would be alot more creative, and a lot less bitchy

what the hell am i going to do when i get there?