YOU ARE NOW READING: Bubbles - Not The Monkey Noted! "Hello! Actually, I'm not supposed to speak...damn. Can we do another take?" ~Quantum Leap~ 2003-06-21 IT'S A BLATANT CLUE, INNIT? ~ 2003-06-03 I GIVE MY PERMISSION to turn the Excel Saga anime into a campy remake of The Wizard of Oz! ~ 2003-05-26 I SENSE YOU...SPACE BUTLAAAAAAAR! ~ 2003-05-14 Whoa, I forgot about Diaryland. ~ 2003-04-15 Excel! ~

2002-07-20 - 9:18 p.m. That was fun. Spent the day theorizing about a nice Personal Bubble. I'm new to the theory, but it strikes me I ought to take it up again. I used to have a bubble that extended to six feet, much to the detriment of the only time I ever saw someone living north of me (not that any more cuddling would have lead to a more happy set of circumstances - I just believe that the more cuddling, the better). I only managed to pop my bubble thanks to the concerned mental delusion that the person I was later with WANTED to be touched. A nice broken relationship later and I get to discover why I shouldn't be allowed near people. It's all so simple now. Stand six feet back from people and glue your fuggin' hands to your sides. Works for the Riverdance troupe, after all. Well, anyway, I finished off the nice day of self-destructive obsessive computer work (which ultimately resulted in a net gain of about one file out of several hundred) by attempting suicide by follicular staining. We all have to dye sometime, and Kool-aid hurts when it's on for fifteen minutes. I tried the rest of the purple dye, but in the end, I realize the futility of my efforts once more. <ANGST> Why does nothing I do have any permanence? Why does nothing I do have any lasting significance whatsoever? Why does nothing I stand for mean anything to anyone anywhere? Why is it everyone I care about goes away or turns against me (as my family was quite happily bitching at me today - my mother often likes to start ranting, completely disconnected from her mind, and gets more than a little uneasy now that I've decided I don't want to eat shit anymore and it's about time people started thinking before they started blaming me for things retroactively dated to about a hundred years I was born and stretching into the hypothetically infinite future)? Why should I even keep caring about anyone or trying to do anything? Why shouldn't I just stop and die or run away or do something different? What the hell am I still doing here? In this life, in this place, in this set of circumstances, in this mindset, in this chair, in this hairdo, in this computer, in this diary, in this mood, whatever. Why -here?- </ANGST> It'll all be over in a couple of years, when I can get nice and stuck into dazzling people again. I'm really only good for anything when I'm doing stuff that people are interested in. I need that energy from admirers to produce anything that has worth. I will make some bell peppers and beef, and watch Star Trek until I get tired and collapse in a heap of comfort food and philosophical technobabble sci-fi at it's very best. ~AYRN I'm fucking sick of chasing people. I want to be chased.

"Ayrn"

~Time Compression~ [Back!|Ahead!]NOW YOU TOO KAN HAVE KOMPRESSION OF TIME IN THE KOMFORT OF YOUR OWN HOMES! -Ultimecia

~MeeYOOZick!~ "WHEELS" From Popcorn (By Hot Butter) Note: I like Popcorn, without that weird butter-with-a-z they put on it. The trick is to eat the yellow kernels. This is the only instance in which you would explicitly WANT to eat something yellow.)