idallassleeping less and reading more

I was just looking through an IKEA catalog, trying to find some space-efficient storage units for my office, when I stumbled into the ‘kids’ section. I decided I might as well look through it, and eventually I came to a teenager room setup. It showed a teenager sitting in his chair watching his TV on its little tv cart thing, and next to him was his metal wire shelves, with his stereo and turntables on top.

IKEA catalogs are now showing teenagers with turntables in their rooms. This is the same catalog that’s filled with iMacs and Powerbooks and lots of other trendy stuff.

If this doesn’t mean rave is dead, I don’t know what does. Not that I care about rave being dead or anything…

Some days.
Hours upon hours, stacking up.
Drop drop drop. The water in the sink.

Rain drips tapping on the window.
Can I come in?

I’m waiting for something.
Please don’t bother me.

I won’t bother you.
I’ll just come in and be quiet.

I open up the window and let the rain fall in.
For a moment, all is peaceful and maybe well.
And with the rain comes the grumble of thunder.
And with the thunder comes the shock of lightning.
And the sky darkens.

And the rain drips I let in have left, and the storm has come.

I have a terrible eye sore, quite literally. My eye is all swollen and puffy and red and disgusting. A minor irritation somehow developed into an icky bacterial infection. I have some eye drops and I’ve been directed to put warm tea bags on it from time to time (doctors today!) and I’m keeping my faith.

I hope it goes away. I have trouble enough in social situations as it is.

the degenerating state of the being known as mass will conduct the meeting tonight. We will decide what to do about this and about that while we watch the willows blow to and fro. They sing like a hymn, swish swish swoon and the young pale girl whispers my name out loud in the rain.

Hello. And thank you for caring.