Friday, March 19

I'm too lazy for this.

I work way better in conditions where I know I'm the smartest one involved.

I have many things to say about dolls and feminism, circumcision, gender roles, and love. I have things to say about God, homosexuality, bigotry, the gay community (and such exciting new things I am learning about it thanks to Jasper). There's also apple juice, "punk rawk," and horses.

Maybe I'll get to talk about horses right now. Working with horses is a solitary thing. It's not lonely, but it's solitary; there's a lot of introspection going on. I get a lot of time to think about the things named above, and a lot of time to go in circles with my thoughts. A lot of time to write blog entries, but of course by the time I get to a computer it's already been written and therefore I'm already bored with the topic. I have much to share, you see; I've just talked to myself about it so much I assume everyone else has already heard it all. I'll be arrogant and call it the Dickenson syndrome.

On top of that I'm absolutely exhausted. Not quite as much in a physical way as in a mental way; again, it feels as if I'm at the edge of death at every moment (to allude to more old poets, think Sylvia Plath, but without all the depressing poetry). I don't know how much that has to do with winter dragging on and on, my medication, or maybe the fact that I haven't eaten in days, but I'm not so sure it matters anymore. Food is, food isn't, maybe a zillion milligrams would fix my brain chemistry.

In more superficial news, I need to do something about this layout because it's driving me insane. Need to get some boxes or something. Again, I'm just too damn lazy. Life's rough, neh? Get a helmet.


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