Rubik's Heart

Hmph. I set out to make a quesadilla and ended up with slightly burnt cheese crackers. Strange. Just like today.Today's been a little weird. I woke up at about 11:30, 12p and within 15 minutes was down at Super Johnny's buying egg noodles (medium, if you must know) and two money orders that total up to $102.85 to go with my can of Arizona Green Tea. Spent better part of the early afternoon trying to figure out how a money order - screw up on it and you can't redo it, you gotta plunk down the same amount for a new one, and considering the amount I spent, I sure as hell didn't want to fuck up. Washed dishes, noted the magnificient black cloud above the bananas, so I tossed them out, and hoped the fruit flies (drosophila, as I recall from biology class, and Christen, that pretty girl — what do you care? :D) would die out quickly, or I could get John Coffe ("Like the drink but spelt diffrently, Boss") to hoover them down. Did some laundry, talked to Christy (christyslife) and tried out some of the Iced Java my mom bought for me. I'll tell you now; if you have not had coffee for two months, a dwindling supply of milk (sorry, Lynn [charmenders], I still do drink cow milk, but I'm working on it!) and a packet containing chocolate mocha syrup, make sure your ceilings are not too short. I found out that even if i'm 6' and my room's ceiling is 7'6", I could flatten my afro almost all the way to my scalp just by jumping around. I also stepped on my bed frame and shoe, so I stopped before I ended up breaking another ankle. Frailty, thy name is mud. My heart now has racing stripes. I went to unleash a barrage of caffeine-enriched urine into the toilet and had this loopy thought in my head (you fill in the blanks): Hello Bush! What WMD? It's just piss, you crazy fuck. No, I don't think Saddam is in the market for enriched piss. No, I believe Saddam has better things to do than throw wads of cash at me for a quart of caffiene-laden piss. No, I do not look like Ibn Laden. No, I'm not his son. Why the hell are you even here? Yellowcake? I flush after every leak! You disgust me! Get out! Can't believe we elected a cokehead for a president.After I was done with my business, I come back and there's something from a friend sitting on the computer. It was a little weird seeing how we didn't talk for two months and she's trying to casually strike up conversation. I didn't know what to say so I was pretty nonchalant about it. She had IM'd me a few days ago to thank me for wishing her a happy birthday and we left it at that. I know most people won't bother with someone who doesn't talk to them, but I suppose, either out of foolishness or optimitism, I went ahead and wished her a good 20th. She told me about her new tattoo and I didn't really care about it, but only said if she was happy with it, great. She left and I went back to doing my laundry and talking to Christy. Didn't want to think about it. About a hour passed, and I was folding up clothes, taking the occasional text from Jon (lumenluna), Jennie (pmpknfn) and Lynn, as well as looking for something online, and this IM comes up again. Her again. She asked me if I knew a kid from here, I told her yeah he lives 10 blocks from me, and she and I talk a little — If you consider my grunting yeses and no's and cool's talking. I'm a little impressed she's finally taking the initative for once, but at the same time, slightly perturbed. I think poetmatt's been in this situation before, maybe. Don't know about the rest of you guys, but it's like getting to know the person all over again, or for geeks, starting your favorite RPG on New Game+. After five minutes she's back on her job and in ten minutes I'm talking to Pap, who just happened to be the same guy who lives not too far from me, and I'm asking him how he's enjoying his time at GU, and Pap brought her up and I felt like my gears ground to a stop. Why? I can't understand the strains and bonds of human emotions and needs. I sometimes wondered if a Rubik's Cube wanted to solve itself, but was immensely afraid. It would mean completion, and would lead either to languishing somewhere or being destroyed and slowly rebuilt by an outside force. At the same time, it needed to understand how to proceed, which is maybe what the feeling is. How to move? Not how to move on, but how to move. Like beating a guy at chess and moving on, but then trying to move in a new game. It's how you do it, and since there's no take-backs, it's just damn hard to decide how to do it at times. Better than leaving the shrink-wrap on, though.I decide to go to my room and draw a snake-eater. I've been mulling this design for a while, the Indians, I think Cherokee, had a symbol of renewal and rebirth, a snake that was devouring itself. My take on it is a dragon devouring itself, but as it's too grandoise an image for a tattoo, and I'm afraid of pissing off the Yakuza fellows, I decide to stick with the snake-eater. It's an interesting image. The Circle of Life, as represented by a self-cannibalistic snake. The pain of renewing, the purity, the cleanliness. Real snakes usually shed their skins when it gets too small and old for them; this imaginary snake is eating it, as if you would devour your own fading past in order to make your present stronger, your future brighter. Of course, the fact the skin hasn't come off didn't occur to him, but damn it, he'll symbolize something! I also added a tweak to it; The snake would be in the symbol of infinity. During that I decided I was going to text her and make modest conversation, to show I had good intentions and a little interest in what she was doing. In between texts and Jon's headbanger comments (When asked about what class and which level of Inferno he was trapped in, and why, he replied, "This is astronomy. We're gonna look at slides of planets. This is the 8th level — defamination of art!",) I worked on the snake-eater. It's not easy drawing when your desk turns into a big battery-powered dildo every five minutes, and I was too focused to just turn the damn thing off. In twenty minutes, I had a simple charcoal sketch, but quit so my eyes could rest. She's talking to me somewhat, laughing at my remarks. It's weird how quickly comfort creeps in after a chill, so I bust into Kerouac's Dharma Bums. Favorite of mine, I love this book as much as I do On The Road, but I'm slightly biased to Dharma Bums due to its enviromentalistic, buddhistic, and dare I say, bodhisattvatic implications. After a while, I decide to hop into the shower. Haven't had anything clean to wear until just now, so I go up. Now, the wiring in the bathroom's fucked up, and the lights won't turn on. As usual, the landlady is holding tight to her 'But I'm just a girl!' attitude, and won't get it fixed, so my mom bought two spot-lights that you push on to light up, similiar to that audist 'Simon Says' game. Even though they only emit 10 watts each, the bathroom is small enough to be lit up totally. It's almost like candlelight, and on a cool night like tonight, taking a shower in this kind of ambience is great. Guys, this is a great way to get in touch with your feminine side without looking queer! :D Pretty relaxing, too.I'm reflecting on our times together, and I'm thinking about this comment someone made, about how it is good to have an occasional fight, to show that the people involved still care about the relationship. Otherwise, you meander along as if you were a leaf on a river, just passively. Easy to do, but fighting the current will make sure things don't stagnate somehow. Washing out my curly locks, I'm thinking how some tribes in Africa fled while others stood their ground in the early days of slavery. Those who fled either got away with their lives, only to be killed later on by stronger and richer tribes, or were killed in the process of fleeing. Those who fought, either won the fight and gained enough respect to be left alone or become business partners, or were killed, injured and taken as slaves. My point is fight or flight, something will be lost. But what's to be gained if you don't attempt to stay your ground when it's important? Then again, there are times when staying your ground is what's going to get you finished off. Back to the idea of how to move.Love is eternal confusion. Buddhist doctrine encourages acceptation. I'm accepting it. One problem. What am I accepting: Love, or the eternal confusion?At this time, midnight has come and gone. I'm still wondering about the Rubik quagmire. I'm rather tired from all this writing and thinking, and I've been neglecting my pager, which threatens to lob itself at me with angry vibrations. I'm just looking for a way to get the best of the situation. Meanwhile, I'm making tea. Tea is good for the soul. I need to sample Teaism when I visit DC. :) Everyone should thank me for the free advertisting! ;) Good night!