Miracle on......32nd Street?

Five years. That's FIVE YEARS!

Been an eternity since I've shown up around here, and I apologize; school bit me in the ass and won't let go til the 9th of May. FROWNFACE.

But last Thursday was the first time I got a wash/cut/dry in a salon in FIVE whole years. I've been trimming my headshrub myself since I graduated high school. Take no offense, barbers, this is not due to any personal mistrust.




....okay, I lied, it is entirely due to personal mistrust. Having a boycut for nearly half my life has scarred my body....my mind....my life....FOREVER. I would walk out of every Bed Bath & Beyond broke having to pay for every single mirror/window/porcelain dish/piece of glassware/stainless steel pan/brick wall/childhood dream I shattered. Never will I have a pixie cut EVER again. You'd have to threaten to rip out my capillaries with your bare hands to make me even reconsider!

a sort of self-insufficiency.

School sucks away my livelihood. Two-hour lectures by incompetent professors back to back and sticking my face into pages and pages of monotonous information during my breaks - the perfect recipe for suicide assistance. It's difficult to be content when you see the same inmates everyday, perform the same actions everyday, and find yourself even thinking the same thoughts everyday. My list of phobias is short, and there are some components I'm not embarrassed to disclose (although I'm a tad ashamed to say that I do sleep with a nightlight). One of those things?

ROUTINE.

and I fear it.

Involving myself in a life devoid of spontaneity. Pent up in a situation I feel I have no control over; wake up, brush teeth, go to class, eat, study, shower, sleep, wake up, brush teeth, go to class......

Not saying that it'd make me want to kick an endangered species, but.

I can't take it. 

I want to be risky, to be bold. I want to test some limits. I want to skydive even though I will hesitate moments before plunging headfirst into something I have never thought twice about. I want to fly over to the Oceania islands and go scuba diving - know what it's like to lay in solitude deep down inside a massive body of liquid that is slowly consuming the planet. I want to call a village in Zambia my home for a couple months - to experience having resources so scarce that showering daily is a true luxury, with the only form of energy at night originating from the moon and the stars - to see what metropolitans are unable to see due to a blanket that covers the cities or a smog that clouds the mind. I want to roam the safari, discover the Amazon, scale the Alps, capture the nature of what it means to be untamed amongst beings that humans consider "wild" but fail to understand. And most importantly, I want to venture besides an accomplice - someone I can trust whole-heartedly who answers with "why not?" and whose greatest sin is a lack of temperance to living a life so passionately fulfilled.

Until that day, I remain incomplete.

Pecans. and Formalities.

"Say that again?"
"Super?"
"Slowly."
"SHUUPer?"

I think my circle of friends have disowned me. Is it weird that I've been pronouncing the super- prefix that way for as long as I've been breathing?

SHUUPernatural
SHUUPerstitious
SHUUPer job!

Light travels faster than sound.

That's why you believe someone is bright until you hear them talk.