I often wonder if it matters what I think. The insignificance of me alone is almost enough to answer that question, but it is more complicated. I suppose I am important as a small cog is important to a machine in that it keeps the machine functioning on a more broader level. I wonder if it would matter if I was suddenly gone tomorrow. Would it create unseen ripples that permeate to every corner of the globe? This I cannot say. And leaving is not like taking the cog out because your death is supposed to happen at that time, and thus the event of dying itself is a cog of its own. Nevertheless, I wonder. What is this machine for?
The subjectivity of existing is more vibrant and incredible than any experience of being a cog can be anyway. It is what keeps us going. So it does not matter whether you are insignificant or not. It matters that you are. I am. It is amazing isn't it?
As I sat writing my paper for...writing...I saw these brilliant green flashes in my room. There was like three of them, one after the other. Following that was a very loud thrashing sound that came from somewhere behind my house. At this point, I can say that the events are very unrelated, but at the moment, I was almost sure it was some sort of ghost that was breaking into my house. Yes, the ghost was breaking a window, as it needed to get into the house. It was flashing in its task. But after recent events, I am pretty sure the light was some of my bulbs burning out. I can't be sure. I hope that was what that was. And then the thrashing was coming from a neighbors house somewhere. It continued into the night accompanied with muffled conversations, maybe being shouted. Now, I am not sure if that was domestic violence. I sure hope it was not, because I let it slide. Someone is over there thrashing some shit around. Gosh if it really was domestic and I was sure it was domestic, I would go over there and add to the thrashing. Thrash their ass. Well, whoever was doing the abusing. I wouldn't join in with the abuser. Gosh how sick. You know what I'm saying?
But anyways. The swelling is almost gone. Still minor bleeding. Stitches haven't dissolved yet. My mouth still hurts. I'm still on vicodin. But it is sure as hell better than Saturday and Sunday.
The spirits are up. I have another Hunter book to read. I still play Oblivion. I'm listening to Bark Psychosis and Black Flag, they are contrasting greatly. I have a book to find this weekend. For school. Let's hope I find it.
The spirits are up.
For now.
