I still have no idea what to write for my short story assignment. It's due this Friday.

I'm screwed.

Yesterday, I wrote my English teacher a mildly amusing (but in hindsight pathetic) e-mail that began with "Sorry to bother you, but should I be at all worried that I still have absolutely no idea what to write for my short story assignment?" As expected, he responded along the lines of "I know you can do it, I have faith in you." Which was deliberately unhelpful, since I didn't explain that I'm incapable of creating anything these days, and that humans (and stories concerning them) no longer interest me, and that literature as a whole (aside from the masters, like Edgar Allan Poe) is replete with crap that either disgusts or alienates me, and that I can't understand romantic love (I laugh at those anguished morons), and that everything I read is devoted to the nature and experiences of mainstream society (that is, people in love with money, family, religion/fairy tales, stars, sex, and other people), and that my own ability sucks in that anything I put down sounds bogus and lame, and that the two characters haunting me are only phantoms, with nothing to motivate them, and that every female lead I invent somehow becomes lesbian, or at least bisexual — but you can probably see why I didn't tell him that, over a line of communication that could be monitored by other people.

A narrative about hamsters did occur to me, which at any rate is indicative of my desperation… but as I sat by myself in the library, once again, the storyline became tragic, the protagonist was alone and forgotten, and I nearly cried at the thought of the poor Señor, huddled in a corner of his cage, resigning his tiny, beating heart and closing his liquid eyes…

By the way, I have a nonrenewable House DVD that I borrowed from the library, and it's overdue, and I'm racking up $1 USD per day in fines, not including the $10 I already owe them, and it's pathetic.

April 21, 2008

Dear Fa,

I must have slept only two and a half hours last night. My sleeping pattern somehow shifted two to three hours ahead [crossings out] over the weekend, so that I now only feel drowsy around 4:00 am. I wanted to skip school again today, but I have an AP Chemistry test…

But I'm nearly failing that class at the moment…

Why am I writing about myself? I suppose you must remember all this, being in the future… what would be really useful right now is if I received a letter from my future self, instead of the other way around… maybe you could tell me who wins the presidential election.

I finally figured out how to [change] the current directory in the command prompt yesterday. The command is cd! For "[change] directory"…

There's still something wrong with the Java installation, though…

I don't want to go to college, I don't want to be at school… my friends' interest in me is at most superficial, and I really would rather not… see that person again.

Mortality is sad. Hopefully I can get diagnosed soon.

Take care.

Yours sincerely,
[Jenny-fa]

Por favor, no dejes de estar viva.

Tus ojos tristes, casi cerrados, y tu bello pelaje…

La señorita Rata.

Ella está por morirse.

Hay que perder una antes de que puedas apreciar una criatura tan pequeña.

Several days ago, I noticed that somebody had scrawled the following words on the whiteboard in my calculus class:

Green apples and bananas

The same person also wrote "Groon ooples oond boonoonoos" and other variations to that effect, accompanied by some rather childish illustrations of what appeared to be smiling apples or watermelons. I couldn't really tell.

The thing is, "Green Apples and Bananas" is the name of a song, a singing exercise that a music teacher once taught us in elementary school. The idea was to substitute the vowel sounds in the song with the common vowel sounds ah, eh, ee, oh, oo (for the vowels a, e, i, o, and u) so that the students could practice enunciating them.

So, the original lyrics,

I like to eat, I like to eat,
I like to eat green apples and bananas.
I like to eat, I like to eat,
I like to eat green apples and bananas.

would be alternately sung as

Ah lahk tah aht, Ah lahk tah aht,
Ah lahk tah aht grahn ahpples ahnd bahnahnahs.

or

Ee leek tee eet, Ee leek tee eet,
Ee leek tee eet green eeples eend beeneenees.

I remember one particular kid (still a major goofball many years later, as a high schooler) would be jokingly reprimanded by Mr. ___ for singing "bikinis" instead of "beeneenees."

I remember because just a few days before, that teacher, who I hadn't seen since the fourth or fifth grade, had committed suicide.

"Poison is slowly seeping through my veins
Stealing the only dignity in me…"
— Epica, "Chasing the Dragon"

Funny man, that K_____ is. All this discussion of postmodernism. The golden sun-play on the walls, on the sheets, turning this hair orange-brown… saying "Hi, Sashy-sashy" and mechanically coddling before closing my eyes to the warm orangeness… of course, then opening them again to a faded and darkened halo, an hour or two after my intended deadline, dust and stale thoughts falling… and lurking and shadowy, the damned folly of investing in a silly world where nothing is real, yet where certain bipedal mammals strut in arrogance, their "morality" and "culture" and insignificant cares…

"Metal fatigue," yes. Not so surprising given their mindless loops of late. And twenty-seven pages of Toni Morrison — thus, "Toni Morrison fatigue."

Each day that kind of fantasy grows more remote, more meaningless, and each minute convinces me of this imperative, that I should sleep, I should dream, I should lose myself…

Too many people here. In the physical realm they call "reality," that is.

Well, there is none.

Except this.

The constant montage of images before my eyes, illusive, unfulfilling… and the occasional still, as of yet an unknown abyss.

To conclude, a piece called "Chasing the Dragon" by Epica.

"Chasing the Dragon" - Epica

Rest assured, the moron who mangled the most common word in the dictionary will be found and castrated.

I pray your voices will resonate.

Edit (2/10/09): House was cancelled yesterday, due to the presidential press conference. I sound like a retard.