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[personal profile] narcississy
This was a day of existential malaise. With cargoes of time weighing in the hourly range being lost and unaccounted for, I am somewhat uncomfortable with SO much unaccounted for "product" of my life -- as I've come to develop a not-so-irrational paranoia about unaccounted-for facticity. I suppose that it is the price to pay for the forgone hangover, i.e. that lingering/adhesive facticity that one could only expect from such a scattered late-night.

Were not the broken SLR screen and the loss of my sweater jacket not a generous enough payment, though? Surely I don't even try to eschew/feign immunity to culpability -- for I'm surely responsible for even the existence of the possibility of these events -- but the sum of these accrued unfortunate events and the sum of the losses/damages, which synergistically formed the hurricane that toppled my emotional composure and crippled my invisible hopes for the future, seems to have been a rather exorbitant charge with interest. Who knew that this phenomenon called 'fun', which humans so glorify, would be so usurious?

At the end of the 'transaction' made in the name of trying out this aforementioned human phenomenon, I found myself in a McDonald's near campus around 7:30 a.m. to wait for the library to start its day. I was in my hat, coat, and jeans -- all stained green and not even remembering re-dressing myself with them. My Halloween makeup (minus the eyeliner-drawn lip color) was still on my face, but apparently I segment-slept/"napped" atop my small coffee for a total of two hours, so most of the patrons fortunately did not even have the displeasure of beholding the absotively posilutely hot nuclear-fusion-in-the-Sun's-core mess that I was looking.

After washing away 0.001% of my shame in the McDonald's restroom with the finest beauty care products of antibacterial hand soap and McDonald's napkins (obviously I still wasn't myself at this point if I used McDonald's napkins), I took a walk of existential shame disgust (shame is a part of the everyday existential experience) to the Office Depot two blocks south, having no regard for the wretched/downtrodden/at least half-reptilian I was emanating. I was even told by an employee to let him know if I should need anything, which means that I really must have been personifying Sorrow or something this morning. (There are more blue moons than times when an employee would brave the extra time/eroding dignity in proximity to me in order to let me know that they're there for me.)

Fast-forward past the two hours of zombie-sleeping with interstitial bursts of half-awakenness in the library, I macked no dudes up; was made tardy by some super-sized coupe failing multiple times to back up (but did a superb job of backing up traffic...into which it was backing); and mentally chucked the deuce or eight up at my life or lack thereof. By having completed only one of the three, I am therefore not Nicki Minaj. Q.E.D.

Now I just need to flush this green dye from my hair and body.


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January 2013

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