Waitin' For Paradise

To be here is wonderful. . .statistically. But from what I know, it's really not that great.

Here I sit. I extended my self-imposed stay in this prison for another 6 days due to curiosity, but hey. It's not that bad. There's 3 more housecleanin's, the mullethead has to mow the lawn 4 more times, the shoppin' trips are gettin' lighter and lighter since we are tryin' to leave as little behind as possible, the weather is absolutely wonderful again with no more scorchers to see, and I'm about as amped as can get. I'll be runnin' in the rain to get my 'fix', the mullethead isn't runnin' as much anymore, but like 'it' said this mornin', "What's the point o' torturin' myself if it's not gonna matter how fast or far I can run here when all the rules change in month and a day?"

The mullethead loves to run, but not in so called 'adverse' weather conditions. It doesn't like comin' home lookin' like it was just dragged out 'o a lake, but my love o' runnin' is too extreme to be stopped by the weather. I also have a very high tolerance for the cold. In fact, as I said before, I LOVE it.

Though I am stayin' until the 15th, I will still close this blog down on the 9th. Or rather I will not write anymore. I will be internet-free on the 10th. I don't really have much to say anymore anyway, not that I ever did. So I post a few political links on things that royally pissed me off. Not that I feel like postin' the link, but in Belgium, a Greek chick protester was sittin' on the ground with her hands handcuffed behind her back, and a pig kicks her in the face. Don't know what she said, but IT WAS VIDEO TAPED, MUTHA FECKER!!!!!!!!!!! NO MATTER WHAT SHE SAID, SHE DID NOT DESERVE WHAT YOU DID TO HER!!!!!!

I also hope Tony Baloney gets his dues, and I suspect he might, but in less than a month, I'm leavin' it all behind. The minute I step into that hotel, I intend to exist solely for myself for 6 odd days. Total nihilistic hedonism. Yes, I suppose I already do that, but I won't be doin' any more work of any sort. No more clean-up, no more cookin' or spendin' hours mincin' various veggies for intricate gourmet meals, or all that. It'll be runnin', shaggin', scarfin' out at the finest establishments a couple o' times a day, intellectual discussions on whatever over tay which will be brewed by the cup out o' a hot water dispenser, seein' the town provided the rain's not comin' down two centimetres an hour, and just plain havin' fun.

The light at the end of the tunnel. . .seems to me it's kinda like th openin' o' a Spice Islands jar. How far a walk would that be in the dark?

I am really enjoyin' doin' this post. It's been a learnin' experience bein' here. It's amazin' how my priorities on some things changed, when before they did, I never thought they would. I relearned from personal experience on why people choose to come back over and over, though at the same time I could not identify. I suppose aspects are an interestin' place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live here. Not a full life span, anyway.

When I first got here, I thought is was fun. Then I hated it for a while, but felt compelled to stay to see my literary work all on The Guild, but not long after it was proven that it didn't matter whether I was here or not, I didn't care anymore. Now I'm kind of nuetral on my stay here. Of course I do look forward to goin' home, and the convenience of no longer havin' to go out of my way to slave to the Physical body (I HATE goin' to the loo, amongst other things.), or actually havin' to drive somewhere in a bleedin' car to get things done, or to actually have to cook to get a meal, but hey. Then there was also the fact that drivin' with no licence was a tad risky, but hey. I was careful, I did very little of it, and was unlikely to get caught. The only one who had a licence was the mullethead, who hated drivin' more than anythin', and who also was NOT the best driver in the group. My mentor could have given Dale Earnhardt a run for his money, but who cares now? I had to go to the city Monday, Wednesday, and I would probably never get behind of the wheel of the car again after that. (If I existed in the first place, that is. . .'cause I don't. I'm a fictional character, OKaaaaaaaaay?)

Now I'm goin' stir crazy, and am goin' for a 10 kilometre run down the road. It's too muddy out back.