That is the "Skiwi". A funny little "Hacked In Real Life" finding.It's funny because:
A) The sign is of a kiwi! How often do you see that?
B) It has funny vandalism.
C) Skiwi is fun to say. (Meaning, say it out loud, silly!)
I applaud whoever thought of such clever vandalism, you made my day.
I'm not quite sure what to say today.
I could tell you about my hatred of school, or my obsession with a boy, or the weather. Or something. Anything, really. I could say anything.
"Anything."
It's been said before, it'll be said again.
Anything.
It's all encompassing. Without being threatening. It's so mundane; you never give thought to the word when you say it, do you?
I didn't think so.
But I hope now you do.
At least once, as you know,
The word is more than it seems.
It's layered and stacked,
Meaning upon meaning.
You can use it in so many variations.
What makes "Anything" special?
What makes anything special.
Sometimes the answer to "Anything" is "Everything". Another loaded word.
But then again, is there a difference to these words? Sometimes, I don't think there really is. What are the two but over-used, mundane, and average, all-encompassing words. To be tossed around so flagrantly.
But maybe we should take more care in our "Anything"s and "Everything"s.
At least, we should try.
That was a much unneeded rant.
There's a red plastic goat staring at me.
I am currently fascinated by this object. Who decided a plastic goat was needed in a game of Lincoln Logs? Who decided the goat should be red? What type of person makes a goat red? I think I feel bad for this poor plastic goat, singled out amongst its peers and brethren, its color quite deceiving. One lone goat in an entire container of Lincoln Logs. I haven't named this unfortunately unique creature, but I believe a proper name will come in time, I cannot just slap a name onto such a peculiar object. It's sort of like the red velvet Jesus piggy bank I saw on television one time. Where do these strange object come from? Red velvet jesus' and red plastic goats? Who thought that such things should exist in such an unforgiving world? I think the goat's destiny was determined from his creation, he is a memento of strange, an icon of individuality, a frontrunner for red goats everywhere to rally with. I wonder where the other red goats are? Are there any more? Have they been lost and forgotten? I shall not forget this red plastic goat. I will remember him fondly, and perhaps use him as a good luck charm. For what could be more lucky than such an object? I can think of nothing, this is for sure. Rabbit's feet are old hat, and four leaf clovers... well, they exist in vast quantities. But a red goat? I think he's lucky.
Another unneeded rant.
I have a thing for saying what doesn't need to be said.
I like talking, typing... I like words. Stringing them along like beads to form what shouldn't be said. What needs to be said.
I also like listing things I like:
Sunshine. (lollipops and rainbows!)
The Beatles.
Scrabble.
Kimya Dawson.
Juno.
Greek and Roman mythology.
Psychology/sociology.
The color grey.
Hugs.
Trees.
Music.
Guitars.
Happy movies.
Star Wars.
Seinfeld.
I'll stop. Because I could list forever.
Oh, I forgot an important one: The Sea!
I like the sea a lot.
So today I've alerted you of the Skiwi,the Red Plastic Goat, and a useless list of things I like.
I'd call this list a total failure.
Unless you dig those sorts of things, then I'm glad I could satiate your needs for such things in a blog post. :D
Hmm.
*Thinking sounds*
...
What else can I say?
Can I say that sometimes I question the validity of this blog? Somedays I make myself slightly neurotic? And that I clean when I'm upset? Can I say those things? Because again, they don't need to be said. But if I don't say them, and if I bottle them all up inside and never tell anyone, I think I'd be driven to insanity. I think I'd begin mumbling constantly to myself. Sometimes, I have to say things. I blurt them out, or just say them quietly, to someone who's only pretending to listen. I sneak words in edgewise and hope they go unnoticed. I write them down. I put them here, on this blog, for your peruse.
Can I say that I sort of just talked at one of my teachers today? I think he brought it upon himself, truly, he said we should talk. About the funeral and things. Can I say I took advantage of his offer? I'd say not? He's so nice. Such an odd sounding three-word sentence. I would deliberate over something so simple. It's a simple sentence. "He's so nice." I probably could've said something more literate, advanced, and awesome. But I didn't. I gave him three words. Somehow, I think that's enough? It's a compliment, I think. I hope he thinks it is, at least.
Rant, rant, rant. It's all I do.
My life:
AP US work, Essay, Rant, Rant, Rant, Sleep.
It's a pretty good system I've got going here. Pfffft. :)
Also. See second paragraph beginning with "Can". That one about me talking at my teacher? He said something intriguing. "I don't want to paint your family as callous." When I said I was the only one who cried at the showing, he replied with this before saying more. And that thought has given me pause. Maybe my family is callous. Maybe they're just bad with emotions. I'm not sure. But obviously, I'm overly emotional and ridiculous. And I'm perfectly ok with that. I am who I am.
And currently that's somehow alright.
Weird, right?
Ok, goodbye, I've got things to do. (See list of my life above.)
Adieu!
I love you, although I didn't rant lovey-obsessively about you today.
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