I guess my nose does have about 2 degrees of freedom.

[dolari]

I was just listening to Art Bell.  I used to listen to him all the time, and really haven't had the time or heart to listen to him lately.  So I listen to him today, just to get my mind off of the days events.  Of course, all he is talking about is the crash.  No problem, I like Art.  I really do.  And a caller calls in with "I think we need to kill all the arabs.  They're not human." This isn't your typical Art Bell caller, and Art vocally disagreed. But it is sounding more and more like I'm hearing on the street.

But to see Yasser Arafat and various Palestinians donating blood for a country that really hasn't treated them all too well over the years...it really makes me happy.  Maybe there's some life in The Human Race after all. Get rid of ignorance and hatred in the world, and this world might be a pretty decent place to live in.

Last night, things got wierd.  After my diatribe, I tried my best to get to sleep.  I turned off my lights, and lied in bed.  I have a serious fear of the dark.  I always have, and since I used to sleep with Deener, it had abated a bit.  When she left, it was hard to sleep with the lights off, or the radio off...but I got use to it.  Last night, though, the lights went off, and the Darkness came for me.

Imagine lying in a dark room, staring at the ceiling...and then...the darkness peels off the walls.  The sheets of darkness get darker, and surround you, and you feel like you'll suffocate in the darkness.  The next thing I knew I was staring at my bed, with the lights on.  I turned on every light in the house...turned on the radio...EVERYTHING. My heart was racing, my mind flying, noticing every speck on the walls, the dust on the ceiling fan.  The darkness does that to me. Peels off in sheets, or peels off in figures, or dances around me. I haven't seen the figures in years, since I was a child, but the darkness still comes for me.

Eventually, I made it to sleep...and dreamed.

I was sitting in my usual seat.  Last row, left window seat, watching the ground fly by.  Enjoying the view of the clouds.  I look up just in time to see the cockpit crumple from the front, racing towards me as....

And I'm in front of my computer, quoting Mac Beth. 

I decided to purposely do what Alison does naturally.  I decided against going to sleep and just passing out whenever.  I got on ICQ, read some journals.  Watched Cartoon Network.  I made a person smile.  That made up for the horrible nightmare.

I finally passed out in front of the tube around 9:30.  Woke up at 3:30.  Every light in the house still on.

I'm a CNN junkie, and I watched it all day long.  I worked on the web page a bit (nothing you can see, it's not uploaded), and Deener came over.  We grabbed a bite to eat, I showed him the plane footage.  I felt I HAD to show it to someone...I felt almost like I was dirty by not having someone around me to see it with me.  Someone to talk to as it happened.  Even if it was some 18 hours after the incident.

We ran out to Jack in the Box, and talked, mostly about The Event and about how Jack in the Box always gets our orders wrong.

My body is a wreck. I'm quite literally not the person I was a year ago, and all that heavy moving around kicked my butt. And my left breast is killing me. I wish I could temporarily eject it, while it healed up on it's own.

The Sun went down, and every light in the house is on still.  The closet door is ajar and the light is off in there.  I actually fear going in there to turn on the light.  The Dark is in there.

I hate being alone.

I'm pretty tired, I'm hoping I'll pass out a little sooner this time.  Maybe, after a steady dose of Cartoon Network and Noggin, I'll be able to put myself to sleep, instead of this "exhaust yourself to sleep."

Sorry there was nothing more substantial to today, other than some media induced psychosis.  Tomorrow I promise to give you pantsless ferret juggling al a mode. 

You get to pick the ice cream.