Somehow, yester-day I slept from like 12:30 in the morning until about six in the evening. Yeah, I don’t know how that happened. Though the day before, I was up from 6 in the morning until the 12:30 in the morning the next day, so that may have had something to do with it. Also, my bed is one of two places in my house where it’s actually normal temperature (the other being the shower, though both have the prerequisites that I’m in them, and the shower has the prerequisite of being on, with hot water.) So now, it’s 4:18 in the morning, and I’ve been up since around 6 yester-day. I hope that makes sense… chronologically. I know it doesn’t make sense in sleep schedule terms.
And that was as far as I planned this blog post.
I’ve been re-reading some old John Green blog posts from 2002 to mid-2006. They’re pretty interesting. I particularly like the one where he talks about Gatorade and gasoline:
After I filled up my car with gas, I went home and peed–like I said, I drink a lot of Gatorade–and then on the long walk from the bathroom to the living room, I heard a Gatorade commercial asking, “Is it in you?” Due to the aforementioned urinating, it was not in me…
His “Five Simple Rules for Moving” is pretty good too. Having moved three times, I know that when he says, “Boxes are the great enemies of any mover, because once something gets put in a box, it rarely comes out,” it’s VERY true.
I’ve mentioned before how, due to the nature of the written word, everything is condensed, so whatever you read (whether fiction or non-fiction) seems to have taken over a smaller period of time than it actually did. So even though I know that those blog posts are condensed versions of events in his life, I still hope my life will be as interesting as that. I mean, in all honesty, it probably won’t because I’m scared of people and dislike travel, both of which limit my capacity for life adventures, but still… I wish it were.
I’m listening to a Bob Dylan album (An-other Side of Bob Dylan - my sister lent me a whole crate of his CDs, which I’m now listening to very sparsely and alphabetically, in fitting with my New Year’s Resolution of listening to all of the albums in my music collection – more or less alphabetically), and now I’m thinking about him, even though I don’t know too much about Bob Dylan. I know what I imagine his being though. It’s similar to a lot of those other, early folk-type singers. They don’t have a very high income, living on the verge of poverty, and yet they’re able to create these masterpieces of artistic outpouring. Like, their entire collection of possessions consists of an acoustic guitar, a notebook, a pen, possibly an anthology of poetry, and an old, battered couch. Re-reading those early John Green blog posts feels very similar. And again, I hope that I can do the same, but I suppose even if you’re living in a legendary life, you don’t feel anything special about it. It’s just your life. Unfortunately, that’s the thing about perspective; you can’t see your own life in the same way that you see the idealised life of someone else, because idealising your own life is narcissism and is frowned upon by morally up-right people.
If no-thing else, take that from this blog post.
…
Actually, no, let’s just go with that, because I doubt that I’ll come up with anything better if I keep sitting here and typing.
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