where hypotheses come to die (madman101) wrote,
where hypotheses come to die

Walk of the Dead.

Happy Halloween.  May you live forever.

Recall that I did apartment cleaning yesterday.  Despite sleep, I didn't come out it well this morning. I was already on my way down.  But I pushed myself, anyway.  Walked to library, liquor store, Walgreen, and home.  A long walk, esp, the day after.  On the way home, some teen boy started talking to me, and we walked and talked for a while.  He started talking to me not long after I said to myself, "Everyone is saying 'hi' today."

Got home, no time for a bath.  I have a mix of Hershey's, Reeses, various, and my "Endangered Species" bars.  I specialise in chocolate.  I usually end up melting the leftovers into my mocha.  I also bought some Special-K nut bars, which look great through the transparent wrapping.  I tasted one and it was pretty good.  I just now had my first visitors/snatchers.  My dog barked, but he is on a line.  The kids were nice.  One boy grabbed too much, but was nice about leaving some for others, when I threatened him with my Crocodile Dundee knife and cursed like a Banshee.  This, after all, is MY holiday.  Now, the police are putting me in handcuffs and I fear I won't be posting for a while.  Send my love to ONTD.

I bought brandy today.  I have only bought brandy one other time in my life, when I was aspiring to be a worldly lounge lizard.  I still have this British colonialist locked up inside me, despite the fact that I am Irish, and that this is 2019.  But, seriously, lately I have been trapped in the early 1800's, England.  Jane Eyre.  Jane Austen.  Lord Byron.  Sweeney Todd.  Frankenstein.  I recently finished the HBO (2008?) series, "John Addams," which spends a lot of time in the early 1800's.  And I have always been trapped in 1830-1850 in New England, by Thoreau and the other transcendentalists.  I really don't know why I am stuck in this epoch.  I read Defoe, Smollett, Swift, Kipling, Stevenson - all placing me back in the early 1800's, mainly on the imperial side of things.  It must be genetic.  Some earlier madman is calling out to me from the grave.  Everything goes 'round in circles, save one thing: our blind arrogance.

I don't know if I can watch a movie now, with headphones on.  Maybe my dog won't bark at the next fiends to visit.  Just getting off my bed, while wearing headphones, takes about three weeks, as it is so complicated.  You should see my whole furniture situation.  A table juts out over most of my day bed, so I can reach things, and write to you, dear reader.  I only have about one-foot leeway to get to my bed, right next to the pillows, where I can swing my legs up over everything, and that messes with all the wires everywhere.  This is some kind of sentence one would bestow on the basest of curs.
Tags: holidays - halloween, i am trapped in the 1800's, my day journeys
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