I have no idea what I am preparing for. I've been practicing my knots and braids on our many ropes. I've been reading, thinking, dwelling. I am having flashbacks to less than pleasant moments and ideas.
The fact that I am stationary again is contributing to my reflection.
There's not a whole lot to do here besides prepare. I could start LIVING here. I don't mean moving in...I mean just go about business as usual. But the fact that movement is inevitable really makes doing much of anything kind of pointless. I guess that's the point.
I just don't know what to do with myself.
I don't think I am on this trip to start street performing. I don't even think I am here to START anything. I've always had trouble assigning myself to one specific thing indefinitely. I am almost entertained by the notion at the time... giving myself a name and title... but I outgrow it.
One of the meanest things that was said to me (and there were a few worse ones) by an old acquaintance, was in response to my fixation on steampunk. I told them about it and asked what they thought of it. "I don't have the time... I'll catch the next thing you do."
These things aren't fads. They aren't momentary flights of fancy. They are things that I am immersing myself in at that time. I find something I am passionate about and bathe myself in it. Once I have absorbed all I want to, I find the next thing to dive into. If you meet me only briefly, I can understand how it seems single-minded. But it's anything but.
Not entirely sure what I am trying to say anymore. Rapture just had me look up bogus reports of re-animation of the dead with the swine flu. Anything remotely zombie like, people jump to it. I admit, I am terrified of zombies. But not every epidemic is a zombie epidemic. Just because you read a half cocked report online doesn't make thing's true.
God. I know the folks who will tell me I don't know what I am talking about. The mysterious 'They" released the swine flu in mexico to kill off certain people and keep us oppressblah blah blah.
I am refraining as much as possible from claiming that "They" or "Society" and whatnot, do these things. I want my claims to have weight. I want my enemies to have a face. Not some mysterious mass of faces or illuminati. I want to find the things I consider wrong, look them in the eye, and fix them.
Christ. My world keeps getting smaller. Each year it gets smaller. Probably claustrophobia that caused me to flea. Now that I have, everything seems so much fucking smaller. It's strange and backwards.
Story of my life.
I'm going to go watch Dr. Who... back when it was good.
Hopefully these strange symptoms aren't permanent. I don't think I have the room to allow any more strange ticks into my person.