“What we call chaos is just patterns we haven't recognized. What we call random is just patterns we cant decipher. What we can't understand we call nonsense. What we can't read we call gibberish. There is no free will. There are no variables. There is only the inevitable.”

I believe I am terrified of the world right now. If I come to a concrete conclusion, I'll let you know.

In the mean time, I planned on taking a few minutes to freak out over the fact that everything is going all wrong at the moment but then I realized I don't really care too much. The chaos keeps things spicy and never really lasts that long anyway. And if all else fails...well...then all else fails and I'll be shit out of luck, right?

My brain is in a very funky place at the moment. I can't really complete many thoughts or be around too many people without wanting to strangle at least half of them. You know what that means!?

It means I am going to give birth to some of the craziest poems no one will ever read.

/fin.

i haven't been this busy

in ages.

i quit

smoking, finally.

i like my classes,

for the most part.

there isn't much to complain about,

right now.

i have to save my breath

because my lungs are damaged.

(and that's not a lie)

i've realized i can survive

on coffee and poetry.

so i have pneumonia and it is terrible. i have spent over 100 dollars on this damn sickness in the past three days but that's not even the worst part; pneumonia is boring and lonely and a downright waste of my time. i have been writing when the pain in my chest is bearable and when i can go five minutes without coughing but those moments are so few and far between. i'm just far too restless to lie in bed all day. thank god for kerouac and vonnegut though; i've been attempting to finish On the Road (my attention span is that of a three year old) and i started reading Look at the Birdie. perhaps I'll finish both books tonight. i slept entirely too much last night and today.

anyway. that's all.

i should go do a breathing treatment.

goldfish are going to make me fat.

i need to decide what i'm going to write for my non-fiction piece. perhaps i'll just have to go out and do something new.

i'm really hoping i can get in to the second level poetry workshop this semester. i'm not looking forward to taking fiction just yet.

i'm not intimidating.

I am failing as a writer lately. I haven't been keeping a journal, updating blogs, or typing up notes on my phone at all. The frustrating part of that is it's not that I don't have anything to write about, it's that I don't take the time to sit down and write any of it because I don't feel like it's the right time to do that. I know that by waiting for the right moment to come along I risk forgetting details or leaving out important parts but I just can't write about anything yet. I know I am going to have to though; if I don't then this summer will have been an extreme waste of time. Maybe next week- before school starts- I will write about it. After all, I am moving in a with a friend next week in an attempt to save gas (and money I don't have) so I won't really have much to do.

In other news, I like to think things are finally looking up after such a terrible summer. School is going to start soon (which always makes me happy) and I have a job interview on Wednesday. Now, I understand there is a chance I might not get the job but the fact that three days after I was officially fired I went job hunting and I'm actually being given a chance to have another job already makes me feel good. I mean, I felt good the day I did that because I wasn't sure I would bounce back that fast. And now I'm hopeful again! This sounds terrible, especially because I love it so much, but I'm thinking it might be time to let the tutoring job go. I went from 15 hours a week to 10 and now I'm down to 6. I'm sorry but 90 dollars every two weeks just isn't enough for me.

As for my social life...well. That's an entirely different cup of chai. I don't even know where to begin when it comes to that. I can say things are definitely fun. I will let you do with that what you will.

Till next time, interwebs!

Excuse me for a second while I throw a bitch fit...

I am one of the few people I know who really has everything going for them when it comes to being a person. I am intelligent. I am good with people. And in all honesty, I am capable of doing whatever I want. But for some reason, I have no concrete support system. I don't ask people for help. I don't depend on other people to do anything for me because I do it myself. The most I've asked people for lately is to just listen to me bitch for a few minutes and then be done with it. I have had every reason this year to ask for help. I have had every reason this year to stop everything I'm doing and take care of me, but I haven't. I've been balancing everything I need to do with everything I should be doing. Unfortunately, everything is sort of caving in on me now so I can't ignore the fact that I have nothing.

I don't have anyone here to help.

My family doesn't even help me for Christ's sake.

Where does this leave me? It leaves me angry. It leaves me crying. It leaves me convincing myself that getting in my car and disappearing is not a good idea because (let's be real) it sounds like a damn good idea to me. And just for the record, I do not want to hear the usual "i care about you"'s and the "i worry about you"'s and I ESPECIALLY don't want to hear the "let me help you"'s because I do not fall for that shit. People say what they think they should and that's why things go wrong.

So, to keep myself from furthering this bitch fit, I am just going so send a big FUCK YOU out to the world.

FUCK YOU.

the bees the bees the bees the bees

My best friend was stung by a bee for the first time yesterday and found out she's allergic. It struck me as odd that someone could go 21 years without ever being aware of such a life threatening allergy, let alone without getting stung by a bee. I mean hell, I've been stung by bees three times in a matter of a week. They've molested me on my legs, my arms, my back and even on my fingers (though my first encounter with those pokey little bastards was when I was really young; I decided the best way to kill a bee was to sit on it. Needless to say I ended up bent over a foot rest with my ass out so my grandmother could right my wrong). Funny thing is the way I'm talking about bees makes me sound like I dislike them. I don't though; I find them rather intriguing and have decided to share what I know about bees with the rest of the world (I apologize in advance for anything that might be incorrect; it's 2:30 in the morning. Bear with me.). ENJOY!

You know that awesome haiku from Fight Club? In case you don't it reads like this:

"worker bees can leave

even drones can fly away

the queen is their slave"

Now, not only is the haiku in perfect syllabic form it's actually pretty accurate. I mean, hypothetically speaking worker bees can leave and drones can fly away (the worker bees pollinate and bring home the bacon while drones impregnate the queen and then die) but the queen really is essentially a slave in the bee world. Her only purpose is to procreate with bees that sound inferior and unworthy of her. It's really quite funny too that the term "Queen Bee" functions in our society as a term for a female in a position of power. In fact Urban Dictionary defines a queen bee as "A female that continuously strives in treating others in a condescending manner regardless of gender." (and, despite grammatical errors, we know that's an accurate definition because the internet would never lie to us).

Anyway, on to other things ("other things" here meaning the sexual habits of bees). Yes, I want to tell you about bees and their sex lives. However, instead of typing everything out, I'm going to introduce you to one of the most outlandish but surprisingly educational videos to grace the internet.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Queens and Drones! I present to you...Green Porno.

And now, because I've realized it's 3am, I leave you with a song that I quite like; Bees by Animal Collective.