tinklingchords

I feel like singing bubbles.

No wait. The feeling's gone. Now I need to sleep. I've been bouncing around for too long. Even my sister & brothers thought I went insane.

Why weren't they worried, though? I mean, I'm their big sister! They should be worried if something's wrong with my brain!
No body loves me!

I'm going to kill them. I'm going to KILL THEM ALL! BUAHAHAHAHAHAHA
I shall feed them gasoline & an opened matchbox. 3shan yseer 3ndhom 7ar8a bel m3de.
I will make them have daily baths!
I will ban them from reading books! HAHAHAHAHAHA.
I will make them regret not caring about my sanity!
They shall die by means of boats! Boats will CONSUME THEIR BRAINS LIKE NOODLES!
Because boats like noodles, you know.

I don't like noodles, though.

Do lobsters like noodles?

No no! That makes no sense, duh. Why would lobsters like noodles. Gosh. That was so stupid. I mean, GROW A BRAIN.

Try not to grow it too much like noodles, though. You don't want Lobsters to eat your brains.

Boats, boats! I mean boats! not lobsters. Lobsters prefer penne rustica.

I like penne rustica.

me & those lobster have a very good chance to hit it off immediately! I mean, can't you feel the chemistry!

I smell the chemistry. It smells a bit better than biology, though. Especially that time when we had to take a test in front of dead sheep hearts & lungs. yes. If biology was a perfume, it wouldn't sell quiet as well as chemistry.

I'm so smart!
Don't you love my absolute smartassedry, lobsters? I'm a genius! No, no! not a genius! That's too normal these days! I'm something else! A total Sui Generis! 

I'M MAYS!
All hail, yes yes.

 Sigh.
Darren Criss is so awesome!

Well, isn't it such a lovely beginning for 2009.

This year is supposed to be the best year of my life. In it are supposed to be my last & best months of school.

But, well, apparently, 2009 was aiming for a much bigger entrance. The massacre going on in Gaza is still full blow. It's been 6 days now, & the bombing seems unrelenting. Murder is going on right in front of everyone, & they're all virtually tied up with shackles constructed with either their own apathy or cowardice, & frankly, I don't know which is worst. Cowardly Indifference, that's what our big, powerful, hailed leaders are all aiming at. They're all just going to be quiet &  try to blend with the walls while Israel is cackling right in front of them, killing as though it was just a habit it never paid attention to, plucking lives like they were mundane flowers available in abundance around the curb of the walkway leading to the devil's home, gathering them in a bouquet & tying them together with a ribbon of blood.

But really, who cares? You're not getting killed, are you? Everyone you know is safe in their homes, aren't they? So why care? Why care about those faceless, nameless people getting killed? After all, you only see them on TV. It's relatively easy to just pretend they are unimportant extras in some movie. Just a bunch of low-paid actors, pretending to collapse under buildings made of carton or to blow up by  rubber shells being thrown from the unfilmed ceiling. It's relatively easy to pretend all that blood & that gore, all that macabre setting is just props for an unedited halloween night fick.

It's relatively easy. Considering the nightmarish alternative.

Yeah. Who cares if those people are, in reality, real people. People with parents, children, families & friends. Who cares? You can't feel it. It doesn't affect you. Why bother? Even if all that horror is really going on, it's too far away. You can't hear the bombs, can you? you can't feel the earth quake beneath your bed. You sit at home, safe & sound. You don't expect the walls to crumble around you like those of a fragile sand castle's. Because those things just don't happen in here. Those things only happen on TV.

But somewhere, someone is sitting with family, watching the chandelier sway ominously over their kitchen table. & somewhere, someone is watching with wide eyes as the ceiling over is coming down, closer, closer. Someone is hearing their bones crack. Someone is exhaling their last breath.

It's all unreal. It can't happen, because things like that --well, things like just don't happen. Because if they did... well, bugger me, it turns out the Boogeyman does exist after all! Metaphorically speaking, of course. Because some people's bedrooms aren't safe anymore. Their houses aren't what they're supposed to represent. Their nights aren't the time when everything is quiet & restful, And their mornings are never fresh & crisp. It's all red. It's crimson in the day, burgundy in the night. It's either that, or it's perpetually gray, like the rubble of the once-had-been upright homes that is covering so many limbs & bodies, smothering their cries & pleas.

It's just relatively easy to forget. It's relatively easy to ignore. Yeah, offer sympathies & pretend to support the cause. But who cares? It's not happening here. It's not affecting you. And until it does, if that ever happens, you just go on with life. Don't give it a second glance. War happens.  And when it's happening so far away, it's relatively easy to just pretend it's not.
It's all relatively easy, because the alternative might just disturb your nights.