indefinite (adj.) 1: vague or not clearly defined or stated; 2: not decided or not known

hiatus (n.) 1: an interruption in the intensity or amount of something; 2: a missing piece

how could you?

- i have decided, upon much consideration, that the way that i would least like to die would be to be papercutted so many times that i bled to death.

- really. that would suck. a lot.

the deep end

- it was a dark and stormy morning and i awoke in a pool of liquid. at first, i wondered if the liquid was my own blood, but alas, the liquid was not red.

- next, i pondered the possibility that my room had been flooded. i do live in the basement of a rather large building, and other unhealthy outcomes have resulted from said situation (copious amounts of festering mould being the most obvious of examples). however, it was just my face submerged in this mysterious liquid, and so a flooding would not really explain the situation.

- i then thought that perhaps i had left an open bottle of juice next to my head, and somehow in the middle of the night poured it all over my face. i licked my lips. this was not delicious, and therefore it could not have been juice, as we all know that juice is delicious.

- finally, i gave up on being all intellectual-like and decided to open my eyes to inspect the liquid. it was drool. i am disgusting.

treasure hunt

- when i was about eight years old, i read a book about a boy who gets caught picking his nose in font of the whole class and gets teased until the point where he does a research project on it and finds out that everyone picks their nose.

- and really, why wouldn't we all pick our noses? sometimes you just get the really crusty ones that latch on to your inner olfactory unit and refuse to let go. why? i don't know. i can't imagine it's really all that pleasant, what with the hair and the constant wind and such. anyhow, these crusties are just a pain in the bum, and occasionally they cause us to hurt. and we can blow our noses all we want, they just hold on tighter, just to spite us. but our fingers? perfect size.

- so go on, get it up there. dig around a bit. see what you can find. just don't do it in front of the whole class.

afraid of heights

- up and down, up and down. the steady motion of vertical rhythm, sending me to sleep. i feel like i'm in a rocking chair; someone sing me a lullaby.

- i have a thought.

- i look over at jenn and ask, "can you tell that i'm clenching and unclenching my bum?"

spoiled rotten

- upon receiving change from shopping a while ago (shopping is a rare occurrence as a student), i noticed how dirty some coins can be. the loonie (one dollar coin, for all the non-canadians out there) at which i looked was completely moulded

- so moulded, in fact, that i was forced to truly peer at it in order to identify it as a loonie. - to me, this was disgusting.

- 'how does money get like this?' i thought. 'what must people do in order to make money this gross?'

- i pondered all of the interactions that money must have with people, and i realized that money really is communal. very communal. too communal. really. we wear sandals in community showers, why aren't we wearing gloves to handle our money?

- i mean, i don't typically do disgusting things to my money. really, i don't. but we all know that there are plenty of unhygenic people in the world. and snot-nosed children. and old people who can't control their salivation. and all that stuff gets on the money. and that's gross.

- "down with everyone who's gross!" i was about to declare. but, then i realized that when i don't have pockets i put coins in my socks to hold on to them.

- and for that, i'm sorry. so very, very sorry.

the wings of life

- normally, i'm a lazy pile, so imagine my surprise when i said to my roommate last night, "hey, wanna go for a run tomorrow?" what was even more surprising was that when she replied in the affirmative (i'm not kidding, she actually said, "affirmative, sir"**).

- and then, this morning, i actually got up. and i actually put my hair up and brushed my teeth. hell, i even rolled on some deodorant. and really, once all that shit's done, you can't just not go for a run, no matter how lazy you are.

- so we went. and it was awesome.

- she listens to her music, so she was off in her own world and left me to mine. this gave me plenty of time to concentrate on everything that was going on. i wasn't wearing my contacts or glasses (read: i couldn't see, more or less), so i was really focusing on my other senses.

- it sounded like the morning; very few voices but plenty of birds. it smelled like fresh; everything was waking up new and different from the day before. it tasted like clean; no dirty deeds had been done today.

- it felt like strength; the power of my movements reminded me that it's not hard to just keep going. everyone does it. but what you ought to strive to do is to want to keep going. enjoy everything, because everything is worth enjoying. enjoy the sound of your footsteps and the smell of your own sweat mingled with the bittersweet aroma of coffee. enjoy the taste of the air, not because it tastes like anything in particular, but because it's everywhere and if you enjoy it, you will always have something to appreciate. enjoy the sound of the garbage truck at five o'clock in the morning because it means someone is doing something for you - they're taking care of you. enjoy papercuts, because they remind you how little things can have big effects. enjoy water, not because it makes you healthy, but because it's natural and pure and clean. enjoy pictures of friends, and pictures of enemies, and pictures of animals and trees and statues and poo, because there is beauty in everything.

- even in you.

**utter bullshit.