You Are My Sunshine.

I'm confused.

Not really, but I suppose it's a feeling similar to confusion.

It's as though my brain was dumped into a blender set to "mash to a pulp". And then somebody pressed the "on" button.

So my cerebral cortex got all jumbled into my hippocampus, and whatever other things happen to be lurking on/in my grey matter.

(Is it weird that I have different spellings of "grey" for different things. "gray" is for more warm-ish, tan-ish hues, while "grey", my personal favorite spelling, is meant for the cool greys, like the sea mist and the sheen of a kettle... it's weird isn't it?)

And so as my jumbled brain was sucking itself back into its appropriate place, I sort of had an epiphany... type thing.

I can't say it was a true Jesus-came-and-hit-me-in-head epiphany, but more like an I've-had-this-thought-before-but-it-didn't-quite-make-sense-at-that-time-and-now-it-does type of epiphany. I hope you can understand.

But yes, you see.

There are different categories of love.

The Sexual Love- the kind of "love" that translates to "I'm horny and you're single". A favorite of teenagers, college guys, and creeps. See also, "Lust".

The Puppy-Dog Love- The adorable and completely innocent "love", but that can turn out to just be a slight affinity for someone or a deep friendship. Very common in small children. Very cute.

The Unrequited Love- The on in love chooses a victim that is either A) unattainable, or B) They're too afraid to say anything. Or C) The victim knows and chooses to completely ignore the loving-one. See also: Obsession.

The True Love- The type that leads to marriage, happiness for an extended time, possibly yielding offspring. The type that creates the adorable old couples in the grocery stores that you can't help but "aww" at. It's somewhat rare in modern American society, so the sight of a truly in-love couple may be off-putting to some.

Those are a few. The first disgusts me. The second is cute. I think I'm stuck in the third one. And who can't help but long for the fourth?

Love is insanely odd, and I couldn't give you a straight definition if I tried for weeks to, it just doesn't happen. But hey, love's here, there, and everywhere so get used to it, I guess? It's a difficult thing to see through. It's impossible to ignore, especially when the lovebird-type make out all of the time. That's always uncomfortable...

But still, love is what it is. And now I'm sick of ranting about it, so onward.

T-minus 8 days until school starts.

Let's not even go there, shall we?

Eh, screw it. We're going there.

The Institution. Prison. Hell.

The disgustingly horrible place of no return full of the Earth's scum and drama all condensed into what, ten periods a day?

Learning seems to be overrated.

And this year can't go that swell. This I know.

For I will be stuck in fifty minutes of Biology Hell.

Fifty minutes of torturous math I'll never need to know in my daily life.

A nutjob teacher or two,

And another fifty minutes of trying (and failing!) not to stare at the teacher.

And Latin.

Latin is not Hell. It's like a small sanctuary in the seven (eight?) hours of homicide I deal with five days a week.

I'm looking forward to that.

And it's not to say I'm not looking forward to first period, but sheesh...

I can't deal with that.

Ok, I'm getting off the crazy train.

Goodnight, adieu, my lovelies.