I didn't study for those tests. I killed two birds. And then set things on fire.
I spent that whole day doing things I hadn't done in a long time. I shot things, burned things, shot more things, looked at things I hadn't looked at in a long time, and maybe most importantly I found my suit pants I had been looking for. I had been looking for them for months and I found them in the same closet as my suit jacket. Made me feel smart.
And now I lost my thought process. It's nearly the end of the year. So that's cool. I have two AP tests, woo hoo. I should do fine on both of them. And that's all I'm going to say about that.
I feel like going for a run. But I'm not going to. Because it looks windy.
And then there was the eighteenth sentence. Which is actually this one. I'll give you time to count. Which is a stupid thing to say, because I have no influence on the relative time it takes you to read something. It's not like I can move on before you're ready.
And we're in to the next paragraph with no subject matter. And another sentence. And then another, and another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another.
I just had an overwhelming feeling of fatigue. It feels weird.
I have started to listen to a lot of classical music lately, and it is just lovely. Seriously one of the best things ever. I keep leaning my head back on the couch for some reason. Maybe I'm flustered. I don't know. I do know that I am currently staring at the ceiling typing this and I'm doing a fantastic job. I look up every so often to check that I'm not making any spelling mistakes. And I'm doing pretty well so far. And it's odd, that I find it easier to type while I'm not thinking about the words on the screen. I'm looking at the little rough things on the ceiling. And they seem like they're having a pretty good time. If only writing was always like this. Done in such a way that doesn't create stress such that distracts you from whatever it is you're trying to communicate. In typing these words without looking I think is amazing that I can type just as fast as I always do with relatively the same accuracy. I missed the period on that last sentence. And now I'm looking at the words as they appear on the screen, but I'm not typing any faster (or slower) and I'm making the same amount of mistakes. In doing all this analysis of my typing I'm realizing that the people who tried to teach me to type the "right" way were wasting their time and did next to nothing to expedite one's natural acclimation to something done almost every day.
I'm developing post content! My hands are not on the right keys when they are at rest. And I never use the left shift key. My left hand doesn't even know it's there. It's only my right pinky that knows how to automatically hit the shift key when starting a sentence. Or obviously capitalizing anything else. And that too is kind of fascinating.
People who say they type for all speed and accuracy is not a priority are using an equal amount of time as someone who types relatively normally and makes fewer mistakes. Those people bother me. Those and people who punch the keyboard with their fingers when they type. I want to learn to play the piano. Because the piano seems like a pretty cool thing to do.
When the aliens come here I would like to think they're like the Aztecs. The Aztecs had gold, huge temples, waterworks, complex agricultural systems, and amazing artwork. But they had no iron tools, no beasts of burden, no advanced weaponry. The Spanish had everything they lacked. Iron, gunpowder, horses, all the things that we usually assign normal status to. The aliens are the Aztecs because they will have solved the problem of interstellar travel, possibly intergalactic travel. And they would've found us. But they wouldn't have things like microwaves or personal computers. Or toasters. Or other common household appliances. And then we would win. Because any contact with extraterrestrial life must result in a war of the worlds. That would be crazy, if Gears of War or Halo actually happened. We would be the Spanish and our diseases and atmosphere would do the work for us in killing them all. And then we will all be rich and have vast amounts of new knowledge at our disposable with which to advance our own society. Space cash.
I need four hundred more words. What oh what to say.
I'm going to make an RPG with lasting injuries. By the end of the game you would have one arm, half of the screen would be blurry because you got shot with an arrow in one eye, you would have fainting spells from a trauma injury to the brain...I think I like this idea. And you will be able to get drunk. Severely drunk. Belligerently drunk so as to beat someone to death unintentionally. That would be an interesting game feature. Have the character do random things. Like shout obscenities at passers-by and push people over, pick fights. In dialogue they would choose to insult instead of whatever you chose. And when you're dying they will talk to the player directly. Saying things like, "holy shit you're terrible at this game," or "who gave this idiot the controller?" And then whenever you die the screen will be a bunch of car commercial-esque block lettering and shouting that says "You fucking suck! Your body was eaten and digested by buzzards, spread across the land in the form of buzzard shit! Would you like to try again?" And each time you die it would be a different thing. I'll write 1,000 different death sequences, and then when you hear all of them you get an achievement. Yes.
I have this pesky thing in my back that keeps coming back. I can crack every vertebrae in my back now, even the first lumbar and the upper thoracic. But this thing doesn't go away. I don't know what to do other than be annoyed. I'm writing now for purely filibustering fluff that doesn't make any sense. Jelly. Guitar. Leukemia. Chain. Art. Clothing. Kinetics. Giraffe. Juicebox. Responsibility. Water. Plastics. Monkey. Europe. Thai food. Moped. Scarf. Statue. Ship. Lamp. Apple. Serenade. Sword. Stairs. Headphones. Cold. Anatomy. Scary. Axe.
Almost there. I'd like to finish with something that is coherent. I've talked about typing while looking away, alien invasions and making a video game. Weird that I think of this stuff. Oh well.
I really want to learn to play the piano.
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