| Oct. 16th, 2005 @ 07:25 am In which I am able to string the concepts of Fingers and Communism together |
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Colour:  anxious
Noise Pollution: Green Day - Deadbeat holiday
These are stupid thoughts. I believe that I must be the sole person on earth to have these kind of nonsensical musings. I was plaing the piano, cursing it and my weather-chilled fingers, when I noticed that the part I had been getting wrong was mostly due to my ring finger being lazy and letting the other fingers (namely middle) play the note for it, which ultimately results in the wrong note being played.
Now mind you, piano is not my forte (excuse the pun), and I didn't care much for those kind of epiphanies, but it was either that or machine sex and while the latter is admittedly more interesting, it was also more distracting.
Then the rest of my practise time was spent mentally cursing my ring-finger, then smiling at the thought that playing piano was almost like communism on a smaller level. It doesn't matter what my fingers do; they still get blood, they still are sat on (this feels much more pleasant than it sounds) when cold, and in the end whether they play right or wrong notes it does not impact on their standards of living whatsoever.
In restrospect and upon analysis, the above does not amount to much sense at all, and demonstrates my shallow thought processes. It is probably the result of downing shooters instead of sipping them like a sensible person.
There is an interesting phenomenon of the freezer that has occurred for the last ten years or so. And I have never actually managed to understand it. It is too full. It is so full that, by placing a small object in a groove of frozen produce on the surface, one will be sabotaging the lid's ability to close properly.
I was bullied into cleaning it out once, which was a daunting task, but I only got to the second layer before I gave up. The things in there were simply too tightly packed for me to care properly. After I realised that I was fighting a losing battle, I started to wonder what the hell was underneath the second layer that made the things so damn full.
This aroused suspicious thoughts, some of which included:
- fish
- fish
- whale
- dolphin
- cadaver
although deep down (excuse obscure pun) I really do think it is just fish.
For supper, I consumed a big boiled potato. Yum.
I also take perverse pleasure in doing miniature spring-cleaning every three-days or so, then acting suprised at all the ineffective crap my squalour manages to produce. I am not exactly a tidy person. Or a proactive one, to speak of it now. But I do enjoy throwing away things I don't need.
PS: Sometimes, when reading my old journal entries, I think to myself, "Wow, that sounds so psychopath-masquerading-as-a-normal-person-ish!" so in the end, my username holds true, however much I regret spelling in quasi-13375P33|{.
That is actually scary.
it is early in the morning --sorry for the bad grammar, I'm too lazy to fix it. |
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p54ch0p9th's journal
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