Daniel Bedingfield still sounds like a woman to me, no matter how hard I try to think otherwise.

I woke up smiling today.

Went for my walk.
Found a dandelion and held it to the wind until all the seed pods flew off.
I love spring.

____________________________________________________

Tiny fingers curl around the air outside my mouthwindow
Creating a vortex of guaranteed asphyxiation

I inhale in hopes of finding relief
Only to find the strangled air is filled with hallucinogen
Earthy, sweet, and sharp with a certain unique property

It sends my body into panic

The insistent thumping inside my chest serving as proof
Of something delicious and sinister

A tiny gavel chisels away at my achilles
Justice and mayhem in a single stroke

__________________________________________________

P.S- Whapachow in action.

Yes. This makes no sense.

Despite the fact that I’m still writing like a retarded crackwhore douchebag.

I had an amazing past few days.
And I’d fill my corner of the internet with a few stories.
But I find that I don’t really want to talk about it.

I’m happy, though. But it’s mine. xD And I don’t want to share.

Neener neener.
[/lolmature]

However, here’s something below that I thought might be interesting to share.
Sometimes I get these feelings that I can’t really describe to myself with “normal” words/phrases/sentences (Conjunction-junction what’s your fuuuuuuuunction?)

So I just kind of word vomit.
You know the drill.

______________________________________________________________
It’s an interesting feeling to wake up to your heart peering out through your mouth.

Climbed its little fragile self all the way up.
Used your ribs as ladder rungs.

Heart-in-your-throat syndrome initiated by organs.
Alive and curious about the outside world.

“Why do I have to work so hard? Do we have company?”

And just as your dare to answer.
Your mind makes itself known.
And your brain-stem taps the blood-station on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, you’re blocking the view.
Why do I have to concentrate so hard? Do we have company?”

And it’s at this point in time.
Your muscles take a break.
While your vital organs are quarreling for dominance.
When your muscles act of their own accord.
Fidgeting hopelessly.

Stuck in limbo of involuntary and voluntary movement.

And perhaps this is an explanation as to why sometimes I find it hard to concentrate.
My insides working against me like five-year-olds shooting cap guns at each other.

Each signal slightly louder than the last.
Trying to convey a message that gets lost in the cacophony.

They’re so fucking noisy.
I can’t hear.
I’m missing signals.

For lack of inspiration.

I’m playing host to some pretty gnarly writer’s block.
The usual vices aren’t helping. -_-
They do that sometimes.

So.
I’ll just do a lyric post. to prove I’m alive or whatever.

I can’t remember if I’ve ever mentioned The Format on here before or not.
They’re one of my favorite bands. Or should I say “were” one of my favorite.
They broke up last month. D:

But anyway, (I have a feeling I’ve posted these stupid lyrics before.)
I’ve had a lasting love affair with the song If Work Permits.

My favorite part would be the following:

So now you’re scared of love
I’m here to tell you love’s not some fucking blood on the receiver
Love is speaking in code
It’s an inside joke
Love is coming home

Sometimes, when sailors are sailing
They think twice, about where they’re anchoring
And I think, I could make better use of my time on land
I’ll drink less
‘Cause lord knows I could use a warm kiss
Instead of a cold goodbye
I’m writing the folks back home to tell them
“Hey I’m doing alright”

Looooooovelovelove. <3
[/faaaaaggotfaggotfaggot]

I’ve been looping that song for the past hour or so. It’s nice when you know a song so completely that you can just sing along without even realizing you’re doing it. You know?
It’s like a weird kind of meditation…or something.

Meditation is what I need right now, probably. And some sun.
This past weekend was super awesome. But it wiped me the heck out.
I think I may just be mentally tired.

Cross your fingers for my brain to start functioning again.

Wasn’t this only supposed to take me a few days?

Orange

I will travel to the land of the giants
The wind beckons like a curling finger
The trees rustle warning signs of “Tssssk, tssssk”
As the sun arcs higher in the sky.

In the mountains lay the Gods
Bare and bold upon their pedestals
Immortal flesh tempting human morals
The melding of bodies never seemed so alluring
I am only human.

I bare my hands to the goddess of fate
She tells me, “Understand the significance of fire.”
And with her words whispered gently in my ear
I feel fire.
I feel hatred.
I feel desire.
I feel pain.

lolcats

Something really cool happened to me about two weeks ago, and I think I wrote about it?
But I deleted all of my drafts on here, so I’ll just have to rewrite it.
Not that that’s important. xD

Anyway,

So. Fun fact about Oli.

From the beginning of time, I’ve been incredibly, seriously, ridiculously allergic to cats.
We’re talking about almost instantaneous airway constriction when I come in contact with one.
Sneeze attack factory when I’m just in a house where a cat lives, and slow asphyxiation.
Basically, not a good situation to be in.

Prior to the story I’m about to tell, I hadn’t touched a cat in about three years or longer.
And immediately after, I needed to take a shower and used my inhaler an obnoxious amount for the rest of the day.

Okay, so.
There’s this cat.
A big fluffy huge grey cat. A long-haired cat.
A big looming death sentence, right?
Because I’m way more allergic to long-haired cats than short-haired.

I swear to god, on all that is sacred.
I am not. Allergic. To this cat. At all. 100% No sneezeowdeathwheeze involved.
o_o

What the hell, right?

I kind of had an inkling that I might not be allergic to him weeks before I found this out. When I wouldn’t sneeze when I was around him, or get uncomfortable when I hugged his owner. Even though all of her clothes have cat hair on them.

I told my doctor, and she kind of looked at me funny. Because I’m allergic to a whole bunch of things, but cats top the charts. Like I said. So she brought up the fact that my allergies might be changing, because they do that.

And I pointed out that I cannot be around other cats still.
My friend Sam has two cats. I die every time I’m in her house.
And my friend Mary has a cat. I die there too.
Without even touching these animals.

Apparently this is some kind of weird freakish anomaly.
xD She even asked me if I was sure I wasn’t allergic to the cat.

It’s awesome. I can be all up in his fur and pet him and…you know, normal stuff.

Even though that part is cool. It’s not what I’m most excited about.

You know, it’s unusual for a person in College to experience doing something that could be considered elementary.
And that’s what I got to do.
I was taken back to a state of being like, four years old. Totally inexperienced and cautious.
I had to be taught how to pet a cat.
At my stage of life, I was taught how to pet a goddamn cat for the first time.
And it was probably one of the coolest experiences of my life.

Who really can honestly say that they play with a cat with total appreciation of what they’re doing? xD
I can.
I’m still getting used to the fact that I can touch one. It makes me feel…

Well, normal.

We took some pills to calm us down, we needed help to come back up. Just trying to stay in control of the situation.

Inspired by Against Me!’s song “Borne On The FM Waves Of The Heart”.

I love this song so much.
It’s funny, because I totally didn’t even appreciate it when I heard it.
But like any other song, if I love the lyrics, the vocals and any other accompaniment are kind of side dishes.
And the fact that Tegan Quin sings backup vocals in that song just makes me love it even more.
Because if you know me, you know that Tegan & Sara are like my favorite duo ever.

Anyway, here we go.

____________________________________________________
Someone wise once told me this upon mentioning that I was afraid to go outside:
Like anything, I approached with great trepidation.

Play in the dirt, baby. It’s okay.
The dirt is safe now as long as we’ve got fingers to clean with
And mouths to laugh with.
We all get covered in dirt sometimes, sweetie. You don’t need to cry.
The dirt is still beautiful, and everyone needs it.
And when you’re dirty, so am I.

Brought up in the same school of prophecy
It’s hard to see feelings as nothing but dirt
Filthy things that tear people apart

But let me tell you.
Play in the dirt now, it’s safe.
You wont get hurt.
As long as we’ve got fingers to clean with
And mouths to laugh with.

And even though the dirt don’t speak
She’s just as opinionated as you and I
She’s got roots beneath her toes
And seen many a days where you and I cry alike.

And let me tell you,
If it were possible
I would track down a bird as beautiful and free as you long to be
Humble myself to acquire one of its brilliant feathers
And wish to transform it into some kind of quill
One with a fine enough point to pierce and possibly rewrite preexisting things

Let me tell you,
I’d draw smiles on all your cells.

____________________________________________________

I’m surprised I can still write without my muse fox.
My girlfriend is babysitting Calcifur this week.

He’s a red fox, and her animal is a red fox. So they’re bonding. xD Or something.

I might just have to get her her own.
How hard could it be to find a stuffed fox?

Poem “Composition” Part deux. Not depressing. c:

Inspired by The Postal Service’s song “Clark Gable”.
No nonsense.
My life is turning into a huge metaphor.
Enjoy the structured prose.

I take a walk every day.
I love it when the wind smacks me in the face.
When I’m walking, I couldn’t care less what I look like.
It’s liberating, really.
It doesn’t even throw me when I walk with other people. I still don’t care.
There’s something about the smell of air this time of year that really puts me at ease.
And that other scent that’s starting to build up on all my clothes.
It’s amazing how just the scent-memory of someone can make me feel so happy.

Poem “Composition”.

>Prisoner
Put your hands up on that wall
Fix that blank stare exactly where it belongs
I want to see sweat spill on the floor
Black and white, Hitchcock style
For all the world knows, tonight you’re bleeding.

Get your mind in the right place, Prisoner
You’ll be here for a while.

I’m so tired of all your shit.

SUBARASHIIIIIIIII xD

Right. So I delayed talking about this for as long as possible.

But.

Dear internet,
I have a confession to make.

I like anime.

AND. I have avoided talking about it like a lunatic all this time.
[You're welcome, Ty. Just pretend this post doesn't exist. Also, anyone else who wishes to retain their current high-regard of me. Stop reading now.]

——————————————–
It’s really funny. Whenever people find out that I’m into it. They kind of look at me oddly?
Because, I’ve been told at least a dozen times that I don’t look like the kind of person who likes anime.
What the fuck does “the kind of person who likes anime” look like?

Am I supposed to walk around with a fox tail hanging out my pants, or wear cat ears?
Or. OR. Have a Naruto headband, riiiight?

Excuse me for not having the proper attire. xD

The only reason I’m even making this post right now is because I’m incredibly bored, and I was watching the DVD extras from one of my favorites.

They’re hilarious.

And god, I’m probably going to be laughed at for this.
But I’m talking about the extras from Maria-sama ga miteru.
Yes. I’m that gay.

In my defense(ish?), I didn’t even really like it to begin with. My friend James made me watch it.
I was like, D: y wld i wnt 2 wach anime abot lezbean cathlicks? LOL HAO ORIGINAL.

But. It’s quite cute. It really is. And quite gay.
And it’s not that really gross male-processed shoujo-ai. It’s subtle.
[Unlike fucking Kannazuki no Miko. I wanted to smash my head in after one episode.]

And, also in my defense. That’s by far the “girliest” anime I watch.

Everyone knows I’m a closet mecha fan. [/manly]
And.
I’m a sucker for girls with guns/weapons :]
Mmmm. Claymore. <3
T__T Why did you have to die Teresa? WHYYYYY?
At least you were decapitated. That was kinda cool. xD

And how could I not mention Natsuki.
From Mai-HiME/Otome. Probably the closest I will ever come to having a crush on an anime character.
She was so fucking badass. SHE DROVE A DUCATI. HEL-LO. My favorite motorcycle company. [Anyone else notice how an Italian bike was used? HMM?]
And. Guns. GUNSSSSS. GUNSGUNSGUNSGUNSGUNS.
Why do I always really like the angrymanz characters who are totally emotionally closed off?
idk guyz, i just dk.

And, just real quick.
I will never understand the phenomena of like. Why 80% of the lesbians I know (who are into anime) are SO into Yaoi.
D:
WHYYYYYY.

Maybe I just haven’t been properly introduced into it.
I usually find an appreciation for things I’m forced to watch/read.
Maybe because I usually talk with heterosexual males about anime, I was just never brought into it. xD
I mean, I don’t dislike it. I’m just not like…omgbuttsexomnomnom.

[/crazy]

I’ll leave you, internet. With one of my favorite extra clips from the first show I was talking about.
The extras are there to make fun of parts of the actual anime itself. People usually find it entertaining regardless of if they’ve seen it or not.

So.

Protected: A year in the making. A personal post.

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