New conceptions, or just the old ones coming back around again?

I've been sitting here reading blogs. Now I know how useless that sounds to put it down - but really, it's just a jumping off point.

I was sitting there reading blogs, and I got to thinking... again. I know, I know - no real shocker, this "again". But hang in there, stick me out, and just see where this is going, okay?

So anyway, I got to thinking - and suddenly I realized that I was sick of thinking. I've been thinking too much lately. I mean aren't I here to not think? Or no, maybe that's not precisely it - but aren't I here to not think about "those" things anymore - but to think about other, new things?

Aren't I here with some intent to re-invent, re-create, re-innovate, and re-do all that has been done or said or thought in the past?

Then why on earth...why in heaven's dear name do I feel like I'm just rerunning the same old previews of my life over, and over, and over, and over, and over...

you get the picture.

And yet, I don't understand it. How is it so possible to be where I am and yet stuck as I was? How can I be who I am and yet stuck like ...like that?

I know, I know - I'm being vague. But what would be the point in being specific? What would be the point in more ramblings on about all of the whiney, boohoo garbage that we all end up going through in the end of the thing anyway?

...sigh. Enough.

Thursday will be one of the few good days in a while. I may have a aimless speech due on Friday that threatens to tear out my intestines and eat them for supper - but no matter, it will be a good day. I get to see my Mama, and my Aunt, and my Daddy.

And yes, I still call my Father - Daddy. Get used to it.

We are going to Paris.

And yet, somehow my own retardedness (and yes, I mean my behind-ness in this case) still somehow manages to make me quite miserable.

I was supposed to check up on those rooms. Tomorrow is Thursday. Everything is closed.

Damn.

Excuse me, that wasn't very nice - but I think you again get the picture. I feel all frustrated and all angsty - I hate that. And I hate writing so blatenly about that.

So annoying, isn't it?

I mean who wants to read someone blather on for pages and pages about mindless crap that nobody really gives a hoot about? Frankly, I find it dull and dry; not to mention cheesy and lame. Like trying to throw yourself some kind of insignificant pity party...

What's with that?

Okay, wow. Now I'm not doing anything more than rambling. Oh well. One can only take so much creativity, so much poesy, so much yammering on in elitist language and high metaphors and extended prose before one's brain simply goes:

EEEEEEEE....FOOM!

Mine keeps doing that. It's so bothersome.

And so, I'm trying to keep it from doing that yet again. However, I feel I may be losing the ever-slipping battle.

...sigh. It's been a long week that flew by. I hate those. It's like you feel exhuasted and beat down by the days, and yet you have no legitimate reason to feel thusly because then you have to confess that in fact the week hardly existed at all.

So why do I feel so dead? So lifeless? So much like a huge, nasty ZOMBIE?!

Wow. Okay. Here is a good place to stop.

I'm done now.

Maybe later I'll have something more intelligent to say.

maybe.

-RK

Oh, and by the way - it is exactly two months until I get a Los burrito. At least something to rejoice about....Rejoice with me, oh yea Los depraven hoards of fools!