4-28-03-Today is the day that is not tomorrow
Actually, every day is that day, but who’s counting. The printer is evil, run by things os evil, and produces only evil. Black splotchy evil all over the wonderfully Green papers, symbolizing the jungle of Heart of Darkness. By Joseph Conrad. Should of put that in italics, because it is a title of a book. That really peeves the AP graders, if you leave the title without significance. I’d better not do that. Mhm. No I musn’t. And I should use real words. But on to the day.

Of course, even in a new paragraph I’ll complain about the same old thing. Except the black smudges are on the other side. You’d think I’d be able to spell black right on the first try, but no-o-o-o-o. I can’t even do that. Such a sad state. But it might be because I’m typing while standing up, which makes things quite a bit harder. Especially leaning over a chair like I am doing. But oh, well. A word is still a word, no matter how badly it’s misspelled. Or even if it’s unrecognizable. Now to something new.

All done. Oops. Same topic. Changing. . .now. Pink. Why does pygmalion have to be pick? For that matter, why does the German Honor Society(Deutsche Ehrenverbindung) certificate have to be yellow? Why is anything any color? What if they all changed, then were would we be? Imagine life if the colors of everything shifted every twenty four hours. The lines at stores would just get longer, with everyone waiting for a new color. And discrimination would disappear as we know it. Of course, it would be confusing. But can’t we all just get along?
The new world. Old type.

Boom-Boom boom-boom, BOOM. Soundtrack. BOOM. In the background. Being played forward onto the listing eyes and seeing ears of a reader. Or at least onto a piece of paper with writing, whether or not it is read, comprehended, or simply used as glorified fire starter. That’s all so many books are, glorified fire starter. You pay ten, twenty, thirty(Harry Potter 5 will be going for almost thirty dollars, the highest priced children’s book ever) dollars for a stack of paper, and in the end, sometimes all it is good for is burning. The society of flame. The Zoroastrians worshiped the fire around them. They’re almost all gone now. Boo-hoo. And so-on and so-forth.

Nearly as many words as there are ideas in a simple statement. But usually the words win. But sometimes the ideas do. And sometimes you wish, whatever the outcome, that it was reversed. Particularly if you’re betting on the other choice. Of course, if you’re betting on the ration of words to ideas in a piece of writing, you probably have a gambling problem, and need to seek professional help immediately. Speaking of gambling, it’s illegal to operate gambling over the internet within the United States. And there should be an all Chess channel. Chess matches, chess tips, chess TV shows. Imagine the Sit-com: The Chess Bunch. Or the epic film: “The Brothers Chessamesov.” Or maybe the mini-series: “Chess, the Final Frontier.” Or maybe not.

Too much money for other people. Too much to be had. Not enough to be lost. Not enough to be used. Oh, well.

Nothing worth noting is happening within my detection distance. Elsewhere it might, but not here. Schade. No King George for me. If I could speak with someone, located on the other side of the crystal mirror, I may know more about now than I do. But someone has not shown herself, and so the mirror shows only what I place on it, and no more. Soon, maybe, I shall get what I want. But not now. Maybe it will be that I shall return. Soon to know.

Now I know. But not long will it be. Sleep too does Yoda need. Read what he wrote, Yoda does not. Know what he says, he does, btu not why he says it. Away now I go. The day to end soon it will. A new page, appeared has. The end of the sentence this is. Remember, nothing to remember is there. No, there is another. Yes, sleep I need.