Go On--Make a Mountain Out of It (but not the kind of mountain on which coffee beans are grown)

I have of late,—but wherefore I know not,—lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed, it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o’erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire,—why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! in form and moving, how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension, how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me.

The words of others bring me great joy, and what I long for more, a moment's distraction and silent escape. There's seems to me, though, to be a great danger in the undue and overdue examination of another's words. The foreign rhythms and accents that we've discovered to be so effective a means of enlightenment become a barrier between ourselves and our own thoughts. It's strange to imagine that without words my thoughts would risk becoming devoid of a medium. The nature of articulation is such that increased exercise of this simple skill allows one to know themselves better. It stands to reason, then, that excessive contamination of this meduim with an outside influence could become detrimental.

*Phone Call*

Hmm...don't know where I was going with that. I think every now and then I just like to use relatively big words.

Wow living with three other girls--REALLY need some testosterone. Not joking. Most of my life my friends have all been guys. Now all I see are girls girls girls and it is driving me NUTS! It's all girls in my classes, all girls when I come home--I hang out with guys for a reason! (Shut it up Eric--you're gonna have to get your own girls, I'm bad at that game) I've seldom felt more relief then to find the Bucs game on TV on Sunday when I was covering my couch with my roommate...who is a girl.

ARGH! I think I'm going to have to stop washing cloths or stinking up my shoes ..or something just to compensate. For serious, I need some testosterone. I think I should go over to Hector's..the stuff oozes out of that place, maybe I can get a good fix. My speech pattern has changed. I think the pitch of my voice is actually higher. I've begun to find the color pink a little more appealing. I've even begun to see the appeal of Lisa Frank stickers. I've begun "aww"-ing things. Yes, I know I did that before, but before it was for effect or a joke or to not make someone feel out of place because it's what they were thinking. I feel like it's being sucked out of my soul now. It's like an Estrogen Dementor. Hey, that's a pretty good analagy. But, instead of smelling like rotting flesh, it smells faintly of cucumber melon bath wash and rose hips hand lotion. And the rattle is more of a tinkle, like wind chimes in a soft breeze. But the sucking out of the soul is still mostly the same. Except there's enough left behind to wonder where the rest of it went and to feel kind of bad about the "aww"-ing and the affinity for pink.

They're such nice people though. I guess if my soul's going to be sucked out, it might as well be by good people.

Beautiful Moment of the Day: There were beautiful grey clouds overhead this morning. And a cool breeze was blowing. It feels like Harry Potter season.