A romantic fairy tale life...
I'm fairly confident that I'll achieve everything I set out to accomplish, essentially keeping a realistic perspective on my goals.
I plan now and am rewarded above and beyond my expectations, but I don't aim low. I can work to keep my standards on the rise.
I'm pleased with my identity!

Health update: Evening fasts work! I used to have annoying NC, and now I sleep like a baby. Whey is being good, better quality shows. So with evening fasting, I'll usually stop eating around 3.
For more information about evening fasting, visit:Gregg Aveddon.com.

I think it would be fun to write with both hands. For any of you thinking about converting, I recommend this article-especially if you like scary stories. (I think they're just jealous :)).
That and Dvorak should keep me busy...

I'm thankful for a well-paying part-time job, for a great apartment, and for the chance to do well in school. Sorry I haven't written in so long.. Now I have to study!

Well, so far the first half of the semester has been way below expectations. I'm thankful for my easy part-time source of income, for a great apartment and for my health.

So last night I was at the Officer's ball, with only my advisee wearing formal attire. 'Cuz told me the girl by the door was interested in 'communicating' with my dad. I regretted a little being so immediate and upfront about it with him, though, since he practically raced over there and abandoned any possible mystery he might have had. Although his fluency in Italian impressed me, I could see it didn't outweigh the desperation he'd shown to my cousin et al.

It was a much more southern style campus, fraught with catholic architecture. There were two specific houses I knew like the back of my hand, one which sported the round window clocktower effect. It felt like home, but home right before a grown-up party full of people I didn't know. Some kind of banquet was going to take place, for my classmates and I. I got caught playing around with the chocolate dollars, and tried to claim I'd been eating them. I was told that "One would be good for me, but.." So I reluctantly had one even though I didn't even want it. I had a partner, but it didn't do me much good as 7:30 rolled around and the name-calling was about to begin. I hadn't checked my watch yet but I had a sinking feeling. I couldn't last past 7:30, I thought, and when I saw 7:40 I was crestfallen. I'd called out for the sake of brevity, but the wrap-up was going to be excruciating nonetheless. I closed my eyes and reached out to whoever was in front of me. It could have been a lot worse, I found out, when I opened my eyes and saw she still had her eyes closed and was smiling. It broke up quite abruptly and I managed to make my way to the table, embarrassed as I was, trying to stop myself from shewing how much I wanted to sit beside her. I was served, but my appetite was nothing compared to earlier that day, due mostly in part to the eating of chocolate. The salad looked healthy and everything, but my mood was put off by the original name-calling (which seemed to have become a self-fulfilling prophecy.)

1. Current situation: worried about the future. Worried that the mistakes I've made are the proof that my life won't be perfect. Worries cast doubt on everything, such as social situations, where even the relationships where I feel so confident that I border on abrasive scare me when I think of some people who I really can't tell until they blow up at me in public.

2. Alternate situation: Although this is the only life I can remember, and my beliefs preclude any undefined idea of paradise, I don't need it to be perfect. It may be a little unconfirmist, but I'm here now, and what's done is done, and I can only look to the future. I am ideal for myself.

3.

Had the scariest dream I've had in a long time last night.. Started out easy-going enough, it was the last day of some high school year, and I was saying good bye to all my classmates. Cut to watching one of my classmates in a high speed chase with another one of my classmates.

I decide to follow them, the road is bumpy but I finally arrive at some foreign yard and amphitheatre.. A few people are hanging out in a small tunnel, so I greet a classmate. Make idle chitchat, am told to go and watch a movie in progress, and insensitively end with a remark about someone else.

So I go into the apartment, very nicely decorated with modern furniture, etc. And I start having these visions. Super scary little people with no whites in their eyes, only black, with no legs and everywhere I turn there's another one.

Right now, common sense and research say similar things:

It's negative thing, in that it's the wrong answer to one of the measures of feasibility.

But it's the only handicap that increases the goal of relationships. And since that's the result which holds the greatest potential value in relationships, it becomes a positive thing for me.

I want it because I don't mind something more difficult, especially when the rewards are greater.

This is great weather for agriculture. The very hot, wet and humid climate we're having should foster a very agreeable environment for being overwhelmed by lush greenery tomorrow.

I have to clean up my room. I thought I was about to break my lone streak. That math professor's imagination would turn over in its grave if it knew how worn out my sleeve was becoming..

Liking is such a polite excuse for beating around the the dubya (strafing the issue). At extremes, the real fire clearly shines through.

Well, time for bed..

After they had been riding for a while, they reached the foothills of a massive steppe. Othello couldn't see the cloud-shrouded summit, but he hung on, determined to wear out the tigress. She threw a furtive glance at him and growled as she jumped over another gaping river chasm.

They were headed straight up in the direction of the steepest incline, and he could see the beginnings of ice forming over the rocks. As he adjusted his grip to hold on to the increasingly hot and sweaty fur more tightly, he saw steam beginning to escape from her nostrils.

As the ground began to turn white he noticed her huge claws turning red and starting to melt right through the rock hard ice. As he turned towards the direction they were headed anew, he noticed there was nowhere left to go, they were headed for a wall. Suddenly she jumped abruptly and pounced vertically upwards.

They flew a few meters into the sky directly parallel to the cliff. As they reached the peak of their climb, She dug both her front claws into the facade and pulled herself up. As he held on, her body was tense and completely stiff. He almost had to reach around her neck as she slowly freed one paw and slowly began to climb higher, scaling the cliff almost as fast as she had run.

Othello didn't dare look down, but all he could see above them was the fog of clouds covering the mountain tops. They finally seemed to reach the edge of the cliff they'd been scaling. The temperature was clearly sub arctic but the tigress' body was still steaming.


----
"Know thyself"
-Split Infinity

Her look had smoldered through all my defenses, evoking a feeling so pure it was matched only by the egoism I felt in wanting it only for myself.
I felt so naive, it had exceeded my wildest expectations. I felt as though I'd always known her and yet she was so unlike anyone I'd ever met before..

My first thought was of waking up in the middle of the night and deserting her and our fleeting dream.
He knew he would probably not only be shattering my peace with the door's ear-piercing creak, but also be forcing me to get up, since I presumably didn't have my reaching broom or that lever and pulley system.

Using Da Vinci's conservation of energy method, he gets to stay up longer.

With all that time on his hands though, he was bound to get lonely. He'd obviously forgotten the screaming fit I'd thrown at him right before since he'd so casually decided to stroll in
He was bored, did I want to watch a movie or something?

Giving in, I fed them, waking the neighbourhood..

I really have to start closing my door more often.

-----
"... that takes place in an entirely fictional town, with fictional players, and fictional clothes.."

Sure, feeling secure is important.. but too much security is boring. Where is the sense of adventure, the inspiring unpredictability? I want to feel secure in the knowledge that nothing is for sure. In the knowledge that I create my own destiny. The only thing that's for sure is that anything can happen, but only if you try. Risk takes courage, and that's what makes it beautiful.

----
"Quickly, follow the unknown.."
-The Hip

Expectations.

Those others have of me, those unlucky people have of things within and without their control and the practically indestructible ones I form immediately after making even the slightest of mistakes.

What's right isn't always the easiest thing to do. Motivated by greed but acting under the pretense of benevolence, I protested. I'll go with the flow.

Caught red-handed. Is there anything more embarrassing? I feel as though there was some kind of invisible ledger where everything was tabulated, and being caught caused a loss..

I feel the lull of routine and discipline pulling me in the correct direction, but I also know that I should be rational about my wishes and stop being a slave to what I think is right.

I started looking for that elusive needle in a haystack. I have little to no proof it isn't attached to me, but on the off chance that it might not be I'll try and face it. I feel like a dog who's chasing his own tail.

Summer is nearly in full-bloom and I still haven't accomplished any of the things I wanted to. I started eating less, banking on the knowledge that people who eat less live longer. Sure, I've given in to temptation a few times throughout the semester, but it was always on a whim and definitely a learning experience. Anyway, I think that I can learn from my mistakes.

---
'But if we don't watch commercials it's like we're stealing t.v.!'

The most motivating factor in getting me to disbelieve was the pattern that I thought I noticed.
The satisfaction I felt when I allowed it to prove my point always appeared to outweigh, albeit barely, the constant and increasingly heavy cowl it placed upon my mind. The recurrent rules it spawned seemed observably incontestable.

But I shrug it off and play through the pain. Irreparable, unforgiveable and dumb, but only mistakes. When I try to be this carefully clean, the trivial carelessness I could have taken for granted is the growing thorn in my side.

----
"Know the rules, and know when to break them"

I feel like I know it's going to hurt, like all I can do now is try and break my fall. The disconcerting feeling that I'm missing something is mostly what keeps me from feeling proud all the time, so I guess I should be thankful for it.
The competition is fierce as far as connectivity is concerned, both from within and from without.
Sweaty summer is right around the corner, and going to the movies has never sounded so foolish.
I'm so impatient, I want to keep everyone in suspense until that last possible moment. When they'll either hate me for making them wait so long or love every single moment.
Besides, delaying gratification is healthy, so they can thank me later.

The next morning, the sun was shining brightly through the morning mist. The large blossom cradled the small pond near where I had camped for the night. I wandered over to the beach, still enjoying the swaying cushioning of the massive branches beneath me. The water was crystal clear, and I looked at my reflection briefly before breaking the stillness to splash water on my face.

Dear so-and-so,

The last time I didn't write, snow still covered the trees. Now it's a capricious spring, and I still haven't pinpointed how I'm going to make you notice it.

I can hardly contain myself anymore! The mathematic renegades, with their long gray hair and black bandanas seem to give me the evil eye more than usual too, it makes me cringe.

So it seems like a game of golf could sweep my boredom under the rug, to think the town was once abandoned! I could always call old married Prof, for a game where we'd all end up using wedges after putting away all they wood. Tough nine, that back one.

Finally, I decided they were displeased about the one that approached us, and it made me feel a little more important to be possibly approved.

After I'd hit a nice curve through the wind (which ended up being a slice and hitting an overhanging tree) I noticed them using putters for driving. I asked them why they weren't using woods or such, and she replied it was because they'd just used them. I asked them why they weren't re-using them, that I thought you _could_ re-use them, but she replied very gently (albeit condascendingly) that, no, you could never re-use them. She pointed to everywhere we'd been, and sure enough, there were all the other (good clubs) standing straight up on the grass. I noticed a cluster of regular drivers, etc. and asked what they were, and she said that it had been a hard putt.

But she was angry, wasn't she? Tossing things on the bed, pointing out that I had overstayed my welcome.. I knew it was time we both disappear for while around then..

I.

Sweaty, dirty, feeling sore. The ground is getting cold under my feet, so I pick up the pace trying to avoid the sharp twigs and brambles. I want to use my knife, slash at wood and give myself some confidence, but I know it would only dull it and I don't know if or when I'll need it clean. The evening sounds begin to surround me, and I'm still in shock from the sudden loss of any and all of civilization's sounds.

I gave a loud, guttural howl, knowing full well those mindless robots would not be intimidated in the least. By this time I wanted them to know I'd set my trap. I'd always felt very ready, and I knew the data jack would not re-activate until the next morning. Surprisingly, the first sounds I heard did not seem like mindless destruction. There was careful pacing, almost respectful sniffing, and a final deep purr. Just as I was about to spring and give in to the feeling this was just another trick, I saw them. A piercing pair or blue eyes that seemed to always have been part of the scenery.

They seemed to examine me, carefully sizing me up. I had forgotten all about my defenses, and after some time I realized that they were no longer looking at me. With calculated precision, the head the eyes were part of slowly made it's way through the bushes. A huge, 12 foot white on black striped tiger started stepping towards me in the trunk of my tree hiding camp. I was about 50 feet from the ground, so I thought I still had time to think. I was leaning over the side of the 4th or 5th large branch of the massive redwood that currently housed me.

With what seemed like no effort, the tiger hopped onto the first branch. It was then that I noticed the claw marks all over the branches surrounding me. I gripped my knife tightly, without really expecting it to make a difference.

II.

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. This felt different than ordinary fear, however, and I once again looked at the ground and wondered how much time I would save by simply jumping down instead of attempting an actual confrontation. I no longer had time to think. The tiger opened it's jaw, but instead bit down only on the wooden club I'd fashioned. I swung down like I'd practiced and fell to the ground in a crouch. My trap hadn't been sprung, however, so I could only run to the valley between us and the beach.

I picked up two of the grapefruit-sized rocks and looked around frantically with my back to the water. Before I could even throw anything, however, I was on the ground with one arm in the tiger's jaw and another in an almost gentle grip of its paw's underlying claws. Up this close, I noticed that the tiger's fur was almost shimmering in the twilight.

It seemed to be smiling, but I couldn't tell if it was because it knew it had won or because it felt it was going to have supper. Then slowly it sniffed the air and studied an area completely the same as all the areas around it of the jungle wall. It must have decided it was done playing, as it picked up me up with it's jaws in a completely effortless manner and slung me onto it's back. "Trust me, these robots would do you more harm than good. They know all about your small plan, and have probably been keeping tabs on your location with that knife you're holding onto."

I hung on in disbelief, looking back only to see the square path cut through the jungle by two androids. One of them began running at the inhuman speed, rapidly gaining, while the other bent down on one knee and aimed its rifle. "Hold on," I heard as the first was practically upon us and the second was cocking his riflle getting ready to let off a shot.

III.

The tiger pounced, and we glided into the jungle. We only seemed to touch the ground every so often, and the tiger finally decided we were safe when we arrived at a small clearing near the river. I slowly slid off, and checked my surroundings. I turned to see the tiger drinking a little from the river, stopping for a moment to nod behind me. I turned and saw a small campground, with a satchel and what looked like a compacted tent. I looked around for the tiger, needing to ask it many questions. There was simply noone there, however, so I started towards the campground.

Othello heard a rustling and turned to see the tiger pawing the ground between them. He wanted to confront her, ask her what she knew of this place that even the androids seemed unfamilliar with, but when he looked into her piercing eyes he suddenly remembered the dream he'd had the night before.

Before she could even make a move, he started towards her and tried to tackle her. He managed to get on her back and gripped her fur tightly as she tried to shake him off. Finally she took off, bucking and trying to loosen his grip. She veered to the side, jumping over underlying branches, no longer thinking about where they were going. He fur was getting sweaty, but Othello had a firm grip and was using his legs to keep himself steady. She raced across the hills, over the river, towards what seemed like a towering mountain.

He kept on thinking that he could tame this animal, but he was unprepared for the steam that began flowing from her nostrils. She was racing, claws digging into every possible foothold in a calculated, precise way. It was obvious she's been through this course before, he realized.

In grade 9 french class, everyone waited for their math marks. My cousin was also there, and I remember feeling proud and elated this was a grade we shared. I remember waiting for the marks list, not caring that according to my belief these grades were not private. The teacher passed out a copy nearby and skipped me so I made an effort to make eye contact and got something. It looked like an old report card, with too much detail for the anxious. Naturally I looked to the bottom right-hand corner of the paper for the final total, and my heart skipped a beat when I read 20. The fight-or-flight was unnerving as I frantically scanned the paper. I later saw that 20 meant '20 out of 20' and my final grade (possibly written in pen) was written near the top of the right-hand side. I had 70%, which is certainly better than 20 but nothing to write home about either. The initial shock I experienced by accident definitely dulled any reaction I subsequently had.

The closed off wing. The leading lady is mean, creating quite a distraction from everyday monotony.
He's looking like his usual teen self, and they were there too. There is some 3 quarters view of the straddle, but that could have been chalked up to something else entirely.
Upset over the change of pace leading to lack of self control. Interestingly enough, the class interprets it without inventing added benefits to delay of gratification.

Murder the Structure.
(Puma looks like a mongoose now.)
After complications with the check-in clerk, averted causing a scene because of my brother behind me. Hungry for credit, getting children to scream out his name two times. Last minute jitters, hunger for purchase.
Literally dripping with that disgusting enthusiam pervading all commitments.
Having beautiful nightmares.
Dreams so scary they completely undermine any positive self-image I may have of myself at the time, while being so beautiful it's saddening.