2 AMannnnnd I'm not in bed why? Because I just watched Jumanji. And no, I don't know why. It just seemed like such a good idea at the time. And now it's over. and now... I can't really sleep... because i"mnot really that tired. I don't really know what I'll do. Well I can think of one thing. Sit at my desk, and stare at a wonderfully cut piece of glass that was given to me by a girl that talks with her Eyes. I miss her alot. and yeah , i know its normal but that doesn't make it hurt any less. I miss my other friends too. Clever, 24, Girl who Sounds like the ocean... call me hemmed in. but i don't care that's my comfort zone. thats where people give a shit what I think... and they are compatible with my humor... people here don'at really seem to get the way that I think... I guess things are gelling. Kinda. Fitting in more... more chillish, and chillage done. Although likely not the wisest choices... especially considering that it is finals week... well yeah... techincally yea it is isn't it. I die in.... 6 days. now that... would be an interesting Blog. The blog of a condemned man.
6 days. After 6 comes 5. Which is a very good number in all respects. and then before you know it. One. But one isn't one, but is really twenty-four. Imagine reading the final day of a dead man walking. Would he blog alot? to tell the world his plight? would it be 23. and then a few hours later 20. and then 15. Can't you just feel it? Can't you just become that man? can you feel his fear? Would he talk about his mother? would he remember the days in Early Autumn when you could taste the very air that you took in to breathe? Would he remember his first love, his heart breaking in two? Would he remember his first kiss? Would his life be full of joy? Bitterness? which is more important to you? You know what I want you to do. you, you the reader, you the individual that I let have the privelage of climbing into my head. Second only to one. I want you to walk up to the only friend you have in college. Ask them for the first memory that comes into their mind. Unless you managed to find one of those super "no the glass isn't just HALF full. it's TOTALLY full" people. the ones that smile so much you think that they don't have a central nervous system (my apologies to Lewis Black) Read: Jamie Wulfenkuhle. They'll tell you about the time they fell off their bike. Or when their girl or boy broke their heart. Or when they watched their best friend in the whole world die. 10. Life is pain, princess. 9 hours. What does that tell us about life? I don't know. not much of a philosphere. Unless it is 2 AM and you have just turned Eighteen. EZ, Clever and Owens know what i'm talking about. Would you sleep? 8 left now. That's the average work day isn't it? So by the time that Lester Burnham leaves work, a free man and sixty thousand dollars the richer, you'll be dead. But it all happenes eventually so there is no sense in getting pushed out of shape about it. Your time is just a bit before his. 7. That's how many deadly sins there are. Seven, I can't name them now. would you blame him? He's likely under a little bit of stress. Especially considering that whole death thing rapidly approaching. I find it funny that Lust is among those sins. So much of orginized religion seems to focus on shame. Seems like religion is obsessed with sex. This leaves us with a few things to consider, like did all of the pontiffs of their respective religions have Erectile Dysfunction? And therefore because they couldn't get it up, they forbade their underlings to. And that's why catholic priests are celebite. 6. Students are in school for six hours a day. Dick and Jane go to school in the morning and I would lie awake. Saying my prayers? Contemplating my punishment? Or would you just think about how you could have done it cleaner... and not get caught... hide the body better... or the weapon maybe... or a different place? At the end of the day Dick and Jane step over the threshold, back into the realworld. And he dies. 5. Five. I can drive home in five hours. I could tell my parents that I love them. Or I could fly to D.C. and lobby against the death penalty, beg Bush for a pardon. 4. The number that I count to before I allow myself to lose my temper. The number that I count when I am questioned about this. When you tell me that this is stupid. When you call my life, retarded. my LIFE. and it isn't like I'm pouring out all my heart and soul here. just most of it. and if you, any one of you bothered to ask, I would tell you. But not the, "should I be worried about you" or "I don't really give a shit" concern. If you actually care, and really want to listen, I would tell you. I really would. But you are in short supply. but just because you don't exsist doesn't mean that I don't want to talk about it. 3. The time it is in the morning as I write this, wondering. waiting. I remember that was the first time I broke curfew. I know it was worth it. And technically they did say to come back whenever I liked. they just changed the rules on me. AFTer the fact. jerks. 2. one hundred and twenty minutes. and then add on an extra for the time to die. We'll be generous and call it a minute. Now Dick and Jane have grown up. and they are going to watch a movie on the couch together. About the time that the credits roll, not that it matters because they aren't really watching the movie anyway, that life will end. 1. class. lecture. a standard unit of measure for the pain that students are subjected to. Hour. But that hour isn't an hour. it is 60 minutes. Less than the playtime of a CD. Your whole life fits on a CD. All of it. Fits on a piece of plasic and metal foil stamped in japan. 50. Every time that there is a noise. A shift, you start. you wonder, maybe there's been a change in plans.... maybe now, not later. 45 then 40. You stare into space. You are sweating now. Throwing up. You can't even eat the meal given to you. It was your favorite after all. It was a shame. Wonder if the guard will eat it. Your treat. 30. you can't stop thinking about it. you know that it is coming. /cue 'smith' It is inevitable /end 'smith'. 25. The numbers no longer carry any significance to you. Thinking stopped. now you just sit... and sweat. you're thirsty, but you also know that in the long term... it will cease to matter. 20. laying on the bed now... wondering what comes next... nothing.... which would be worse... nothing? or something? because that something.... you know would be Hell. In all senses of the word. 10. You begin to find patterns in the peeling stucco of your cell. The clock ticks. 8. now all you can do is watch the minutes of your life tick away on your watch. 8 falls to 7 and seven falls to 6. Six is a pushover, and moves to 5 even faster than seven to six. Five causes the second hand to move faster and 4 arrives in the space of a second. Now you are paniking, as you watch the second hand fly around the face of the dial, it kills time, and kills you. 3. You hit the watch, no this isn't supposed to happen, time is supposed to stop, midnight is supposed to never come. I can't die you scream inside your head, where noone can hear. The watch speeds even more. 2. and you tear at the floor and walls with your fingers, searching... somehow you have to get out and escape. Somewhere there has to be a way to make it all stop.
1. And the hand spins round the dial once more and stops. Like clockwork you hear a voice, and
It's time.
"Hier liegt ein Mann ganz ohnegleich;
Im Leibe dick, an Suenden reich.
Wir haben ihn in das Grab gesteckt,
Weil es uns duenkt er sei verreckt."
-CR
6 days. After 6 comes 5. Which is a very good number in all respects. and then before you know it. One. But one isn't one, but is really twenty-four. Imagine reading the final day of a dead man walking. Would he blog alot? to tell the world his plight? would it be 23. and then a few hours later 20. and then 15. Can't you just feel it? Can't you just become that man? can you feel his fear? Would he talk about his mother? would he remember the days in Early Autumn when you could taste the very air that you took in to breathe? Would he remember his first love, his heart breaking in two? Would he remember his first kiss? Would his life be full of joy? Bitterness? which is more important to you? You know what I want you to do. you, you the reader, you the individual that I let have the privelage of climbing into my head. Second only to one. I want you to walk up to the only friend you have in college. Ask them for the first memory that comes into their mind. Unless you managed to find one of those super "no the glass isn't just HALF full. it's TOTALLY full" people. the ones that smile so much you think that they don't have a central nervous system (my apologies to Lewis Black) Read: Jamie Wulfenkuhle. They'll tell you about the time they fell off their bike. Or when their girl or boy broke their heart. Or when they watched their best friend in the whole world die. 10. Life is pain, princess. 9 hours. What does that tell us about life? I don't know. not much of a philosphere. Unless it is 2 AM and you have just turned Eighteen. EZ, Clever and Owens know what i'm talking about. Would you sleep? 8 left now. That's the average work day isn't it? So by the time that Lester Burnham leaves work, a free man and sixty thousand dollars the richer, you'll be dead. But it all happenes eventually so there is no sense in getting pushed out of shape about it. Your time is just a bit before his. 7. That's how many deadly sins there are. Seven, I can't name them now. would you blame him? He's likely under a little bit of stress. Especially considering that whole death thing rapidly approaching. I find it funny that Lust is among those sins. So much of orginized religion seems to focus on shame. Seems like religion is obsessed with sex. This leaves us with a few things to consider, like did all of the pontiffs of their respective religions have Erectile Dysfunction? And therefore because they couldn't get it up, they forbade their underlings to. And that's why catholic priests are celebite. 6. Students are in school for six hours a day. Dick and Jane go to school in the morning and I would lie awake. Saying my prayers? Contemplating my punishment? Or would you just think about how you could have done it cleaner... and not get caught... hide the body better... or the weapon maybe... or a different place? At the end of the day Dick and Jane step over the threshold, back into the realworld. And he dies. 5. Five. I can drive home in five hours. I could tell my parents that I love them. Or I could fly to D.C. and lobby against the death penalty, beg Bush for a pardon. 4. The number that I count to before I allow myself to lose my temper. The number that I count when I am questioned about this. When you tell me that this is stupid. When you call my life, retarded. my LIFE. and it isn't like I'm pouring out all my heart and soul here. just most of it. and if you, any one of you bothered to ask, I would tell you. But not the, "should I be worried about you" or "I don't really give a shit" concern. If you actually care, and really want to listen, I would tell you. I really would. But you are in short supply. but just because you don't exsist doesn't mean that I don't want to talk about it. 3. The time it is in the morning as I write this, wondering. waiting. I remember that was the first time I broke curfew. I know it was worth it. And technically they did say to come back whenever I liked. they just changed the rules on me. AFTer the fact. jerks. 2. one hundred and twenty minutes. and then add on an extra for the time to die. We'll be generous and call it a minute. Now Dick and Jane have grown up. and they are going to watch a movie on the couch together. About the time that the credits roll, not that it matters because they aren't really watching the movie anyway, that life will end. 1. class. lecture. a standard unit of measure for the pain that students are subjected to. Hour. But that hour isn't an hour. it is 60 minutes. Less than the playtime of a CD. Your whole life fits on a CD. All of it. Fits on a piece of plasic and metal foil stamped in japan. 50. Every time that there is a noise. A shift, you start. you wonder, maybe there's been a change in plans.... maybe now, not later. 45 then 40. You stare into space. You are sweating now. Throwing up. You can't even eat the meal given to you. It was your favorite after all. It was a shame. Wonder if the guard will eat it. Your treat. 30. you can't stop thinking about it. you know that it is coming. /cue 'smith' It is inevitable /end 'smith'. 25. The numbers no longer carry any significance to you. Thinking stopped. now you just sit... and sweat. you're thirsty, but you also know that in the long term... it will cease to matter. 20. laying on the bed now... wondering what comes next... nothing.... which would be worse... nothing? or something? because that something.... you know would be Hell. In all senses of the word. 10. You begin to find patterns in the peeling stucco of your cell. The clock ticks. 8. now all you can do is watch the minutes of your life tick away on your watch. 8 falls to 7 and seven falls to 6. Six is a pushover, and moves to 5 even faster than seven to six. Five causes the second hand to move faster and 4 arrives in the space of a second. Now you are paniking, as you watch the second hand fly around the face of the dial, it kills time, and kills you. 3. You hit the watch, no this isn't supposed to happen, time is supposed to stop, midnight is supposed to never come. I can't die you scream inside your head, where noone can hear. The watch speeds even more. 2. and you tear at the floor and walls with your fingers, searching... somehow you have to get out and escape. Somewhere there has to be a way to make it all stop.
1. And the hand spins round the dial once more and stops. Like clockwork you hear a voice, and
It's time.
"Hier liegt ein Mann ganz ohnegleich;
Im Leibe dick, an Suenden reich.
Wir haben ihn in das Grab gesteckt,
Weil es uns duenkt er sei verreckt."
-CR
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