Lights in the Windshield

This may sound strange, coming from a Science-Fiction writer – But right now, you and me here, put together entirely of atoms, sitting on this round rock with a core of liquid iron, held down by this force that seems to trouble you, called gravity, all the while spinning around the sun at 67,000 miles an hour and whizzing through the milkyway at 600,000 miles an hour in a universe that very well may be chasing its own tail at the speed of light; And admist all this frantic activity, fully cognisant of our own eminent demise – which is our own pretty way of saying we all know we’re gonna die – We reach out to one another. Sometimes for the sake of vanity, sometimes for reasons you’re not old enough to understand yet, but a lot of the time we just reach out and expect nothing in return. Isn’t that strange? Isn’t that weird? Isn’t that weird enough?

Just Bored

I don’t really know what to write, but I sorta think that I should…

I haven’t really been able to decide what I am going to do with all my stuff tomorrow. With no backpacks, I am severly limited to what I can bring. Perhaps I can transfer all my books and notes to my iBook and just take it. Who knows.

I just finished the massive-project-from-hell from the one and only Spadafore. It is just great… I have other homework, studying, and reading that I should be doing, but I am not. That’s great.

Quick look at the musical me – I hate it. Yes, I hate the musical me at the moment. Percussion is just plain terrible without some mallets. Drums are so boring. I did buy a bunch of new songs to feed my iPod with though. We’ll see how they work out tomorrow.

One full week left. Sad, but true.