Art by MeddygonThere is a fine line \ Between genius and madness. \ It is called timing.

I don’t recall any of before this portion, other than that I was with my mother.

My mother left me with a cart at what I think was a Walgreen’s. The Walgreen’s was very large, and very busy. The hall I was in, which was near the doors and checkout, was crowded, and people were constantly moving.

I was watching the cart while my mother was off doing something. I leaned on it, bored, and watched people go buy.

Someone caught my eye. He was in an army uniform, and quite clearly had “Born to Kill” scrawled on his helmet. The peace symbol pins clashed with that, and I watched him walk. Then I noticed he was staring directly at me. He kept walking as he shouted at me, “Are you sane?” I blinked, and he was still there. I turned my head as he continued, “Are you like me?” I did a double take. He was still there, and he shouted one last time, “Don’t you want to be like me?” He began to laugh hysterically as he walked out of my sight. No one else noticed him.

I panicked. Thoughts raced through my head all at once – Why was Private Joker from Full Metal Jacket in Walgreen’s yelling at me? Why was he saying I wanted to be like him? How was I like him? I looked at the cart, and the cameras were missing. I never noticed there were cameras in there before, but now they’re gone. I assumed my mother took them to be developed, but I didn’t see her. They must be stolen.

I leaned on the cart and cried.

I’m going insane.

For the Research paper:

Candice fails to realize that we are not friends with her, we merely live with her.

Today, she decided to bitch to Jessica about me.

“I bet she just told Jake flat out that the bottles were mine, she probably didn’t even try to cover for me!” She says.

Why the fuck would I risk anything for that bitch? She seems to think that she’s done nothing wrong.

One of her excuses that she thought of telling Jake to get her off the hook for having 10 partially empty Corona bottles sitting on the counter was that she had a “bottle cap collection.”

…

One more thing.

Candace walked in while Jessie and I were reading my LJ, and Jessie asked, “Is there anything in there about me?” before we noticed she was there. I said, “Nothing bad.” Then Can chimed in, “What about me?”

ARG. “I’ve got stuff about everyone in there.”

“Can I read?” She asks.

“No, it’s my diary. I’m only showing Jessie the funny stuff.”

“Yeah, she won’t even let me read most of it,” Jessie pipes in. Thank you, Jess.

Can tries to read over my shoulder, but I keep the screen pinned to the Ninja Missions.

After a while, she gives up, sprays on a bunch of awful smelling perfume, and walks off.

Three people. One male, two females. RPG! Rapidly forgetting …

I find myself walking with two others through a market. The man seems nothing more than a fighter, and the woman appears to be an archer using crossbows. Well, poo, she’s out of bolts. “Don’t worry,” I say, “I’ll get you some.” The bolts are large wooden ones, about a foot long and an inch diameter.

We leave the marketplace, as I instruct. While walking, I find two bags of bolts on the backs of bikes. Great, I snag them and give them to the girl, and return to the market to get more.

Well look at that, a bike SHOP. I make my way in, ready to get some more. Walking out with a new crossbow and some bolts, I hear a whistle blowing.

Poo, I’m caught.

I start running, and more people start chasing. Some old woman tries to stop me, and, judging by the feeling I got when I saw her, she was an important character in the story.

She attacked me, and I stabbed at her with a loose bolt, and thwocked her on the head with the crossbow.

“What does a thief need with that,” she said after she saw what I stole, “You probably haven’t even got the intelligence to use it.”

“We’ll see,” I said, and pulled the sleek black weapon from the green cloth bag it had been packaged in.

I folded down the long black barrel, and stuck a bolt in. Snapping it back into place, I pulled back the hammer. There was one more thing on the side that I had to press. The woman was expecting me to not know of it, and she dropped her jaw in shock when I reached for it.

Fire one! Into her shoulder.

She screamed, and whined, and went on some villain rant that no one actually reads in a game, and I didn’t pay attention to in the dream. I walked up to her and yanked the bolt out of her, put it back into the bow/gun, and fired again, then ran off.

Dream out.

[Geno> schroe schroe schroe your boat..
[Schroe> Geno down the stream
[Toad> Emily emily emily emily..
[Schroe> Graph is but a _V

Hello, shitty day.

I had a job interview at 6pm today.

Six in the evening.

SIX.

I leave my appartment at 4:30, and get on a bus out to the blue line.

I get on the blue line to go to Cumberland.

Great, 30 minutes to get there, and it’s only 10 blocks away.

I get out of the blue line station to see the 5:40 bus I needed leave five minutes early.

I had to wait until the 6 bus.

I got to the interview five minutes late.

Five minutes after six.

Five minutes …

“Maybe you should have put the effort into getting here on time,” the bitch said.

…

MOTHER OF FUCK. I’m five minutes late, and suddenly, she’s speaking to me as if I’m some fucking slacker. She’s never met me, she’s never seen me before.

But you see, just because I’m five minutes late, I didn’t put any effort into this job interview.

So I walk to the next bus stop to get back into town. I’m way out in the suburbs right now.

Fuck, I hate the suburbs.

I walk to Irving Park, which is about halfway between Belmont and the Cumberland blue line station. I catch the IP bus there.

“Oh, sorry, I’m only going to Central.”

“Whatever, I’ll catch something else there.”

Put the card in, whoops, invalid.
Put the card in, whoops, invalid.
Put the card in, whoops, invalid.

“The thing’s good ’till October, man, just check the back.”

Driver checks back, nods, gives me card.

I get to Central, which is about 1/4 of the way in. Meh. Central bus to Belmont, Belmont bus to home.

Pull up to Central just as Central bus leaves. Next bus, 15 minutes.

Well, bugger.

While another guy and I are waiting, I go into the nearby convenience store and buy a bottle of water. I walk out, guy’s gone. I missed the early Central bus.

SOD.

I see another IP bus coming. I cross the street, this one’s going all the way to Lake Shore.
Whee.

Put the card in, whoops, invalid.

Driver looks at card, “As long as the date’s still good, don’t let anyone kick you off.” Nice drivers exist. Hooray!

IP bus to Brown Line station.

Put the card in the till, whoops, invalid.
“Code 13: See attendant”

“The reader says my card’s invalid. It says it’s a code 13. The card is good until October.”

Hold up card.

“Izit deant?”

“What?”

“Izit deant?”

“Pardon?”

“Yo card, iz it deant?”

“Dent? Hell no, the thing’s flat.”

Show the flat card.

Attendant rolls eyes, and slowly opens gate to let me through, behaving as if it’s some sort of horrid task to do her job.

I get up the stairs in time to see the brown line train leave. Next train, 15 minutes.

8 pm, I walk into Dennis’s Place for Games, and rip the hell out of any song thrown at me.

In a dress.

“Laughter through the internet feels so hollow and empty. “haha” “lol” “rofl”… I mean, you can just see the person looking blankly into the computer screen typing that, the lips not even slightly curling to form anything even resembling a smile.” – Hard, http://www.sexylosers.com

* Schroe verb preposition noun.
* Yumblie adverb verb preposition noun.
* Schroe adverb verb preposition article adjective noun.
* Yumblie verb “Interjection!” adverb conjunction adverb verb noun preposition noun.
* Schroe verb proper noun, verb pronoun preposition article noun, conjunction verb article noun preposition article noun preposition noun.
[Yumblie> ….
* Yumblie sad emoticon
* Schroe victory pose.

I get home.

News: Jessie bought her cell phone.
News 2: Candice has purchased CASES of alcohol and has been consuming it all day.

News 3: At the arcade, I started a new craze. Random … on hard mode. I was the first to try it, and I’m still the only one who can do it.
News 4: I tried Beethoven on Hard for the first time today. C.
News 5: I tried Turkey March today. F. OH WELL. At least I tried!
News 6: See 3, but replace Hard with Doubles.

Sex and donuts.

If I get a job at Radio Shack, I can’t come home for Christmas.

Okay, a few things about yesterday.

Some people just don’t know what to ask when shopping.

When I mentioned that I needed to go to Walgreens to get some bathroom cleaner, Jessie asked if I’d go cell phone shopping with her. At first, I thought it was because she just figured we could go do stuff at the same time. Nope.

We go into Radio shack, and she had me doing all the talking, asking about all the features, battery life, screen sizes, rate plans, etc.

(While I was talking, the manager handed me an application and said “We need good people.”)

Second thing about yesterday.

I called my grandmother, because, frankly, I was worried. I had that dream about her, and last time I had a dream about her, she was hurt. So I called.

:]

lub gramma

She said my brother and I are her favorite grandchildren. (out of 8 misfits total) :o
Grammy usually doesn’t say things like this, so I actually believe her.
More proof: I’m the only person she’s giving her gingerbread recipe to. She never gave it to any of her kids :o

Okay, more dreams.

I dreamed that I had an apartment in the alley behind my grandmother’s house, and I could see her yard from my window. (In reality, there is a warehouse there, not apartments.) I was sipping coffee next to the window when I heard sirens. A police cruiser and an ambulance came into the alley, and pulled into my grandmother’s drive. I panicked. I ran outside and grabbed the police officer (female, blonde) and demanded to know what was going on. She looked at me as if it weren’t my business, and then I told her that that is my grandmother. She told me everything that she knew, and asked me if I’d seen anything. I show her a sketch from my sketchbook of someone who went to visit my grandmother earlier that day. (I was the blue-haired Schroe in this. In the next part, I’m myself.)
Next thing I know, I’m at my Aunt E’s house. Apparently, we’re house sitting. My brother orders me to …. Rake the lake. There’s leaves and twigs in the lake, and I’m supposed to clean them up. “Hell no,” I say, “I just got in from Chicago.”
Then my grandmother comes in, bandaged. The police told her she should stay with family until everything’s cleared up.
Later that night, an Asian woman in black leather comes into the house, and she resembles the woman that I had in my sketchbook.
Oh, poo. This time she comes after me. Then I woke up. Yay.

I’m not sure which came first, the sorority, the diablo, or the shopping, but the shopping came before the sorority.

The diablo portion of the dream … I was in a bus, travelling down an open country road. Eventually, we got out of the bus, though I don’t recall how or when. Something caused us to begin running back, and that is when it switched to the Diablo2 view of the game. I was an assassin (2nd time appearing as an assassin in a D2 dream, other times I’ve been a sorceress (2)). Another unidentified class is running up ahead of me. As we run, the ground starts to fall behind us. At times, I’m running up an incline to get to the next section of land. I’m the first to fall into the darkness when I couldn’t make it to the next plot of land in time. At this point, I began contemplating what it would look like of the viewpoint could be changed in Diablo, how it would work, graphically, and how they could program it to work well. (Jorenko had mentioned when we were playing d2 last night that he wished that view could be changed). After a moment, I found myself watching TV, and the local (Toledo) news was on. They were doing a special report on the event that had just happened. I was proud to see that they used my character on their screen.

The next part of the dream would have to be the shopping, then. I was in a small store, like Walgreens, purchasing items. A group of us were there, actually, and we were throwing items into the cart. We went to the checkout, which was not a counter, but a window in the wall. The cashier rung up our purchases, and pushed aside items that had been damaged. (Apparently, we’d just run through a gauntlet to get to there). The others in the group grabbed their goods, and I stole a large pack of toilet paper that was pushed aside for being damaged.
We’re walking home now, wherever it may be. The others with me are a male and a female, both ages 18-23. The female has short red hair, pale skin, and is wearing tight black pants, and a black 3/4 length sleeved shirt. She’s also rather thin, and looks like a young, goth Joanna Dark. The male remains unidentifiable, other than that he is in a black coat, and he ends up splitting with us.
Joanna (for lack of a better name) and I are then walking down the city streets to get home. We’re roommates, apparently.

The sorority is where we end up heading. We live in a sorority house, and are apparently the mock of the campus. The richer sororities come by and pester us, particularly one girl, who is constantly picking on Amanda (refering to me. I was someone else in this dream, but I was still myself. Amanda was a brown haired me, and I was blue/black haired, like I am now.).
Amanda was constantly picked on by one particular girl. This girl was tall, busty, big haired, and rich. She was constantly in the latest fashions and the spikiest heels. This girl never bothered me, but she constantly harassed Amanda. One day (as in now, in the dream) she really pissed me off, and I went outside of the house. I told this woman to back off, and I pushed her.
She was appalled that I’d do such a thing. She kicked me with her heel/spike. It connected with my shoulder, and it hurt. She swung for a second kick, and I grabbed her shoe.
She lost her balance, and fell over onto the lawn. She started bitching about dry-cleaning costs, and I told her she had far more to worry about.
I took her other shoe, and stabbed her in each arm with a shoe-heel.
At this time, an authority figure (a black man with glasses and school garb, possibly a professor). He surveyed the scene for half a second and was frightened.
It skips slightly here. Now we’re all on the porch, the bitch and the prof are both sitting on the floor, and I’m on a bench. Amanda’s sitting next to me.
Amanda doesn’t like what I did, but she feels powerless to stop me. I happen to have a claymore, sheathed, sitting next to me. I know that it’s flimsy (because it’s Jorenko’s) but they don’t. I dramatically unsheath it, and point it at the woman.
“You’re paying for dinner, tomorrow. It will be just you, your boyfriend, my boyfriend, and myself.”
She nodded in agreement to my demand, and ran off.
The dream skips again. Now I’m lazily watching TV, flipping through the channels. The woman has arrived to take me out to dinner. She’s also brough an extra couple.
“Sorry, my boyfriend won’t be here until Friday. Come back then, at nine.”
She walked off, and the dream ended.

I’m going back to bed. I’ll analyze this for my research paper later.

What the fuck?

Five phone calls in two days from five different people all getting the wrong number.

For those who have not yet been told personally, my brother recieved his orders to be stationed in Iraq. He will most likely leave the week before or the week after his birthday.

His birthday is October 1st.

I hate the US sometimes.

I need a job.

The last three job offers I’ve gotten are looking pretty absent.

I could always work at taco bell, but to them, part time means 39 hours a week.

Every other place I apply at doesn’t call, doesn’t call, doesn’t call.

Every interview I’ve had has been sorry, sorry, sorry.

Everything to do with my school is shit, shit, shit.

It was wrong of me to dream.

Fucking hell. I’ve got my porfolio sitting next to my bed, my dirty laundry next to my bed, and a stack of books next to my bed.

Why? No fucking room elsewhere in the apparment.

I’ve got two dishes in front of my computer (a cup and a mug) as well as a few papers for homework next to it.

Note from the landlord: “You’ve got 72 hours to clean your room or transfer is imminent”

Oh, and he also gave me a note saying that my rent is overdue.

I PAID IT FUCKING FIVE DAYS AGO.
WTF? Apparently people don’t live in appartments, they’re always just visiting.

I had a dream about elevators.

I fucking hate elevators, but I have to deal with them every day. It’s a stupid irrational fear that they’ll malfunction. I’ve never truly had an elevator malfuntion with me in it, but the one at Carter East came damned close every time I stepped into it. I started insisting that we take the stairs after a while …

Anyway, the dream. I was in an appartment complex, much nicer than the one I’m in now. I was cleaning my room, which was for whatever reason the exact same as my room in the trailer I lived in seven years ago.

Recently my dreams have included the sense of touch more vividly. I never “felt” things before in my dream, but now I am. Can be a good thing, like in this dream, with the kitties and the soft rats and such. Wasn’t good two days ago. Read the rest of this entry »

Fuck you.

FUCK YOU.

A thousand times, Fuck you. You, of all people, I get emotionally attached to.
You, of all people, I come to expect things from. Equal if not greater intelligence.

Understanding. PATIENCE WHEN I HAVE NONE.

I’m on birth control because of YOU. I take these fucking things because of YOU, because I LOVE YOU. Read the rest of this entry »

Coffee grounds spilt in trash bin. Not mine.

Min asks me to clean them up because it’s my coffee machine.

I said no. They are not my grounds, and I am not Candice’s maid.

Min cleans.

I went to the arcade today with five tokens so that I wouldn’t have enough to play more than one game of PIU . . . and then Gabriel gives me a handful for the hell of it.

What would I have done, if she stepped on the bird? Would I have yelled at her for not paying attention? Would I have sobbed at the loss of an innocent bird? Would I have commented on the tragedy as a prophet, claiming it to be an omen or representation of human nature – we’re all far too busy to appreciate the beauty in the world …

A traffic cop, a city street cleaner, and I stared at a small bird sitting on the curb. IT wasn’t running from us, it wouldn’t take flight at the noises. It just sat there, staring back. Cute, fluffy, a symbol of natural beauty in the middle of the modern city.

A woman ran by, trying to catch the bus. Read the rest of this entry »

Maxim is the single stupidest publication I’ve had the unfortunate displeasure of reading.

What will it take to make males (Other than Jorenko) realise that they will never be more than just friends?

Dreams always seem so real ;_;

In a dream last night, I was sleeping. In the dream, I woke up, and felt someone under me. Jorenko had somehow gotten into my room and underneath me without waking me up.

I asked him, “Are you really here?”

“No.”

and I cried.