The day was generally very good.
Fell asleep early last night, and I mean early. The kind of early that's only talked about in hushed tones around a campfire early. Eerily early.
I'm going to say about 8pm. Woke up at 7am this morning, feeling refreshed and awake in a way I forget is possible. I had a nice breakfast and decided to watch The Office on Hulu. It was four episodes, including the season 4 finale, and I watched them all. I'd only seen the finale before, at Katelyn's behest. I forgot how much I enjoyed that show. I wish there was more I could enthrall myself with, but my resources are limited, and my patience wears thin for absolutely no reason.
The Office evokes a melancholy in me only possible elsewhere in Kings of Leon. I didn't feel bad or sad per se, but I felt something. Melancholy is often my zero line of emotion, my starting and end point, so I can't say the feeling was unique or rare. But I felt a tickle. Of what, I don't even know anymore. I still felt good, but it was there, a subtle undertone. I walked outside into the most autumn-feeling morning I have experienced, gave a little streach, and washed that feeling away for a while. It was great. Fall reminds me of childhood. The great race to Halloween.
Speaking of Halloween, my costume this year (sticking to my style of "trying the least while doing something I think is cool") is going to be a zombie. All I'm doing is creepy contacts and buckets of blood. Buckets. Soak-my-hands-up-to-my-elbows buckets. I'm excited, frankly.
I keep feeling like I'm seeing things, ghosts and echos. Residual emotion. The pink goo of my suburban life. Sometimes it's just burbling there. Sometimes it's spraying on some rich old lady's fur coat and having her be attacked by a bunch of rabid minks or something. I dunno, fucking ferrets or weasles. I just like writing like this honestly. I might just be suspicious. I probably need to get laid. Pass me a brew.
Brew, brew, brew, brew.
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