Frequency.

While I was bathing this morning, I had a thought. There are three kinds of thoughts, you know. The kind that comes and goes and one can barely recall having had it unless something reminds them of it, then the second kind that is linked to a particular topic and one remembers it when ever the topic is gone over, and then there is the third kind; this kind stabs you right between the ears, and has not the decency to leave your alone to risk driving you insane. The thought I had was of the third type.

"Why, why, WHY?" it murmured in my head. "why should we put more effort into a book that we'll be fortunate to finish let alone published, than we would put into our journal?" And I must admit, the question has merit; why should I put my focus there? Well after all the stress of the last week, (I got completely fripped out by school) I brushed that aside. I didn't have much school work to do today so I decided to go on a walk, to clear my head and just maybe, catch an idea for my story.

I took Buster (below) with me

and went on my usual route. It felt good to get out of the house and feel the ground under my feet. It had been a long time since I'd gone walking because the pad of my left heel cracked rather badly and I had to wait a while for the skin to heal. Hence the fact that I hadn't left the house in a few weeks. Walking has always seems to get me thinking even better than my first cup of green tea. While the two of us kept walking ideas and thoughts came flooding into my head, but there was still that sharp little prick right between my eyes; "Why?" This time I had to shove the thought out of my head, well as best I could anyway.

I came back home and discovered (much to my chagrin) that my little sister was home sick-- again. My little brothers had been home all last week "sick", they weren't sick most of the time; and they had nearly driven me mad with their antics. I was also informed that I had a rather large load of dishes to wash. I could not have been made to do a chore that I like less (except maybe poop duty, but that one is really closely tied), so with the immeasurable joy of a grave yard positively gilding my face, I set to work. Now, I don't do stuff like this absentmindedly but as I was scrubbing a particularly uncooperative plate, the thought just had to rise up again. "Why?" At that I flew through the dishes as fast as my hands could get them clean. No sooner than I had finished did I proceed to my school work.

I ran to my room fast enough (hopefully) that my vexing thoughts wouldn't be able to follow, and slammed the door as quietly as possible. However, my problems weren't so easily escaped. As I turned and rested my back on the door I beheld, on my desk, propped against the wall; my literature exam. I heard come plodding along down the hall. I ran for my exam and ponced upon it, as fast a my eyes could go, I read the questions. These exams have been getting to be very effortful of late, and though their not my favorite, they do require more concentration than they used to. I used that to my (temporary) advantage. However, it did not last long, and (unfortunately) I'd finished.

I felt calm, for about nine seconds before my thoughts took me again. "why should we put more effort into a book that we'll be fortunate to finish let alone published, than we would put into our journal?"

"Why indeed,"

"There is no reason, and you know it!"

I thought up every reason that I could think of, In vain of course, because he can always see through my pathetic excuses. So after about an hour of arguing with myself left and right, the inevitable conclusion was reached that, there was no good reason, so long as it doesn't interfere with my studies. Because, honestly, I really have nothing better to do, and the up side is I'll have some recorded memories lain away for later. So this is the first step towards that end. Now I have to go and start working on that L.A.R.P. for my little brothers. See ya!