1,440 Words of a Day

Let’s do this thing before the Ambien I just took turns me into a melting puddle of mindless grey matter. I’ve gotten a few steps closer to redeeming my middle school negligence, and my outright missing high school years. I’ve never really been a model student. No running for class president for me. I was more like the kid who misses two weeks, shows up on the day of the test and passes. I’m not trying to brag, I’m just stating a fact. dalablackoverlatThat actually happened once. I’m an observer. I observe the world around me and ponder its inner workings and outer mechanics. What makes people do this? What causes nature to do that? Why do we say “man made” as if man is superior to nature? Are we not but part of nature herself? Maybe pollution is just part of the circle of life. I mean, we created it, sure… but we are animals and that is our byproduct. Well, one of them anyway. 166 words. I’m doing pretty good so far. Let’s keep going.

So anyway, I’m getting closer to the start of my first ever college classes. I am equal parts nervous and excited. Like a cocktail of anxiety. Shaken, not stirred. I picked up my student ID today. I wore my tie-dye cat shirt and green flannel, as if it means anything significant. In fact, you can barely notice it in my ID photo. Walking around campus in my steel-toed boots, shorts, and the tie-dye/flannel combo I felt like I was the unofficial sixth member of Pearl Jam. It was an even flow of nostalgia, that’s for sure. I was a walking 90’s meme. But I guess I don’t really have much of a fashion sense. I have a distinct sense of comfort, however. As I made my way around sharp corners of the prison aesthetic campus I got to the campus book stores. Yes, stores. There are two, each facing the other like a couple of old western cowboys ready to draw. Fortunately for this semester I only need to purchase one book, and one digital code for my classes. Unfortunately, financial aid has not been released yet. That’s next week. Even more unfortunate I will not really have a way to get to campus to pick them up. There is hope yet, though. I will be ordering them online and paying to have them shipped to my home. It’s kind of a ridiculous shipping fee that I will have to pay considering it is literally one book and a piece of cardboard that has a code on it. But this is just the first of many sacrifices made in the name of higher learning. I mean, really I have nothing to complain about. It’s not coming out of my pocket. Thanks, Obama!

I can feel it now. The Ambien. But I don’t feel like wrapping this up. Not yet. After the slight embarrassment and awkward exchange at the bookstore, I ended up feeling a bit hungry. It was fading into hangry, and it was not a slow fade. Skip to a little while later and I am now at the UCF campus, hitting up the various PokeStops. Yes, I play Pokemon Go from time to time. If that’s an issue, then I don’t know what. I mean, if that’s something that upsets or disturbs you then you might want to get that checked out. That’s no monkey on my back. Yes! We have no bananas. Some time later I found myself entering a local shopping plaza that sit below various dorms and apartments of UCF’s finest students. The convenience factor alone of living on top of a plethora of eateries and shopping opportunities is something to behold. This afternoon the sky was 50 shades of gray and was just as depressing as from what I’ve heard of the book/movie of the same moniker.

It began to rain. “Began” is such an inviting word. To begin is to start with nothingness. Many people fear nothingness, absences, voids. They are under the impression that one cannot simply begin with nothingness. That, instead,  it would have to mean that the thing has never been a “thing” in truest form of the word. What “thing”? The “thing” I am referring to so intently is the beginning. And just like that, you have your begging, middle, and end. How? We’re still just drunkenly fumbling through the beginning. How could we possibly have a middle let alone an end?! The very idea and concept of a “beginning” immediately requires his old college buddies “middle”, and “End”. Take any one away and what do you have? Hmm? You have that void I mentioned earlier. Side note; The Ambien has fully dissolved in me. Peripheral hallucinatory blobs of darker colors. I suppose that’s what people call shadows. As I write this I am partially spectating in my own mind the emotions and ideas that form under the influence of the Ambien. That last sentence was not written on my couch in the living room. It was written in one of the last “loony bins” I had the joyous pleasure of claiming this “behavioral health” center my humble abode for a few weeks. No, for the previously mentioned sentence was written when my mind lifted up like a hot air balloon and I could see the world like the giant floating Baby sun from a British children’s television show. What the fuck am I talking about, right? Well that box of books on the counter over there just waved at me. I want to break off of this bizarre paragraph.

I do not condone any form of drug abuse. You abuse the drug, they will abuse you back. In ways that have left you with a slim to none chance of recovery. Drug use, however… that’s not all bad. Headache? Use some ibuprofen. Use this on your sunburn. Use this sugar in your coffee. All of these things are drugs. Drugs that we use and that most do not choose to abuse. Which nobody ever stops to think about. Heroin? No. You can get the fuck right out of here with that shit. I have no medical training so clearly you should pass out all of the grains of salt to the room when I say this but, finding a beginning to the heroin lifestyle is a pivotal role in apparently bum rushing the middle and showing up late to the end. It’s your life movie. The big premiere! Lights are lit. As are you. But when you enter the sticky-floored auditorium, two things cross your melting mind. First, “I hope it hasn’t started yet.” and that’s usually followed by a hearty “Fuck.” The latter of the two is such a fun nugget of language. Speaking of… 1127 words.

What the fuck was I going on about? My day’s activities I suppose. So right, we’re at the convenient complex/plaza…. “complaza”. We went to the “complaza” and got lunch.81e7afa9724594fb3273997b9dd317617a3377af I was dead center at the hangriest point of what we can find on the results of a recent google image search. So to nutritionally reimburse myself, I went in and had pizza. Yeah… Nutrition is the determining factor in where I go to eat. Just as much as my high blood pressure condition is what determines me not riding the best rides at Central FL’s lot of amusement parks. In hanger, my body will actually excrete sarcasm directly into my cerebral cortex. Sometimes my boogers give me lip. But as long as that exchange isn’t reversed everything will be fine. Yes, the Ambien has most certainly dissolved. I feel like there’s so much more to write. 1280 words. Hmm… perhaps not, for now. Wait… are internal hallucinations technically hallucinations? Or are they just induced day dreams? I mean like visualizing weird shit with your mind while you can also still function on whatever it is you do. Currently the visuals are more in thought form. We should find a way to tap into this trippy lucid state. Wait, shit. Inception. I’m sure I’ve passed my middle and nearing the end. If anyone was interested, we ate at Blaze Pizza UCF. It was pretty damn good pizza. You should think Chipotle in terms of setup but obviously different ingredients. 1381 words in. The beginning, middle, and end of this blog post tonight would certainly sum up a creative, albeit scattered, non-linear account of my day minus some things here and there. Like the prequel that has bloodshed before 10am. That will have to wait for my next dose of Ambien tomorrow night. If I remember any of this. Word.

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