Isn’t the weather in spring and autumn ideal? It’s warm but nobody is pestering you about swimming or laying in the sun, I’m more of a goth (but not a vampire); I like to be obscured by shadows, and my element of choice is the moon.
It’s not an element really, the moon, but that is beside the point which is that I’m more of a moon worshiper than a sun worshipper. Of course the sun is what makes the moon shine so I am a sun worshipper by proxy, but that’s also besides the point.
A tinge of darkness is what makes me such a complex and interesting person.
I’ll make myself as the archetype for my protagonist in my books; a vampire bitten half-elf paladin who has claustrophobia about the casket and who is lawful good but forced to evil deeds by the vampire urge to kill. With frog hands from the consistent rainfall. And one of them velvet top hats on the silver steel blonde long flowing hair. And a cane with a sword hidden inside.
I’m such a boring guy that every other post on my blog is about the weather.
We got a weather station not far from where we live and it’s a mighty fenced in construction of steel with propellers and shit of the type which looked hi-tech in the eighties.
It was unfortunately deemed an unfit location for a pokestop.
That’s the problem with Pokémon GO in rural areas that often the stops and gyms are few and far apart.
So yeah that’s not so much fun anyway, the Pokémon GO. It’s a shallow game, and it’s illogical that when you trade a Pokémon, it gets new stats, like why? And that you can reach level 40 without catching a single Pokémon, what’s up with that?
There are far more interesting things to do besides playing Pokémon GO.
It’s mild and warm outside. Today the sun shone on me and I could feel it filling me up with vitamin-D somehow.
Much like a flower I blossom in this climate and feel more optimistic about the future and basically everything.
I’m sure the flowers feel the same way right now, and the trees: ready to ejaculate all of the nutrients stored in the roots into their crowns and resurrect like green Jesuses.
The bears come out of their dens and the snakes do too, and the vermin.
All hungry.
The roe deers who have been circulating in large hungry groups around my house all winter have more to eat already and they are beautiful and graceful with their white asses as they carelessly hop over the roads without a thought of traffic safety, much caught up in the moment.
This is great, we can bid farewell to the deadly winter and welcome the also very dangerous summer.
It’s the one situation like I imagine waking up inside of the casket, cause I wasn’t really dead after all, like somebody made a mistake and I’m buried alive like in kill Bill. That would not be fun at all, better then to get cremated so you are 100% dead and then it don’t matter.
To be a vampire must be such a terrible experience with the sleeping every day inside of a coffin or a casket. That does not sit well with me at all. What if somebody seals the whole thing in concrete and sinks it in the Atlantic Ocean or something?
Then what?
Mayhap I’ll write something about that in my book. Maybe some medieval fantasy gothic horror setting with vampires and stuff. I’ll try to put everything people like in a book like the Harry Potter: mystery, magic, romance, poor people getting even, high school drama, romance, horror, etc except I wont have quidditch in my book. Wasn’t the first like 11% of Phoenix order about quidditch?
Oh yeah it’s a Monday! My least favourite day, generally speaking.
Specifically it’s the Monday morning I don’t like, I think I have about 2500 left.
Or 2499 cause I made it through this one.
It’s an optimistic estimate.
Life is such that for every Monday morning, there’s a Friday evening around the corner, and you must take the good with the bad like they say in Riget.
The yin comes with the yang.
I have a new sister who I talk to every day. She got some flooding in the basement of her house, what a bad Monday isn’t that? To own a house is always like that that there are surprises, the kind you have to pay for.
But if it’s one thing I’ve learned is that all things worth having are things you have to fight for.
I’m having some sort of mid life crisis; not 100% sure I wanna spend the remaining years of my life working as a Java developer. I’m not even sure it’s a valid career choice in the year 2525 when I’ve got enough pension saved up to retire.
I’m not sure I’ve got any other viable skills either: I can make edible food, and could write poetry (I think), and I can paint hands. (I am pretty good at mixing several different skin colours (one trick is I avoid using black to make it dark/paint shadows, but rather make a dark base colour like the darkest there is of what I want to paint which I make brighter and add different colours to depending on what I see)).
I best get started on my new book the masterpiece, I am not sure what it’ll be about but I’ve got a feeling that people will dub it a modern classic.
The snag being I’m not a very interesting person so it won’t be biographical, and I’ve got a poor imagination so it won’t be fiction, and I don’t know enough about anything to write any type of non fiction.
That’s really a snag right there.
Maybe that’s just a format problem. Maybe if I just start, one word will follow the next and before I know it there’s the masterpiece.
It’s gonna start with someone walking in heavy cold rain, like there’s this novel by Ray Bradbury about someone being out in the rain which is if I remember it perpetual, like that it will start, and then they seek shelter in a tavern, because they see that there’s a light and a chimney with smoke coming out of it, so they go there. (Like the tower of the elephant: many great stories start in taverns). And of course they have frog hands.
.Would you like to know something about dogs? They are fine creatures indeed.
Or some of them are: my relative (who is anonymous here because she loved this dog more than her own children, so it’s a sensitive topic indeed) used to have this chihuahua who was basically a mini Cujo.
The feral beast would growl at coloured purple, well all people are coloured or else they would be invisible, but anyhow he would growl at them like some racist, and he would growl and try to bite children. Children would approach to pet him but quickly change their minds when greeted by a hellish growl. I say try to bite here because he had only one single tooth, so most of the biting would be unsuccessfully from the gums.
And the tip of his dog penis was always sticking out one half centimetre like a snail peeking out. He used it to pee on other dogs with.
Gross.
I can’t think of a single act of kindness he did in his whole dog life.
The creature is dead now which is a shame for he was loved if only by one single person, but that is a lot.
To be loved is a beautiful thing.
Oh yea just remembered one more thing worth mentioning is he stank more out of his mouth than out of his asshole.
Outside the snakes are hibernating in their burrows or whatever, not ready for anything really, but biding their time.
There are certain human snakes who are biting all year long their venomous fangs into all that you hold dear.
Some snakes or human snakes do not bite, instead they will suffocate you.
In summertime you have to worry about both the regular snakes as they do not hibernate, and the human snakes, as they never do, but you aren’t as likely to freeze to death.
There is at least one meter of snow on my mums cabin, several tons weighing down on the roof yet here I sit inside.
It’s a pretty powerful construction which can withstand such massive pressure throughout the winter. Not only the roof, but the whole thing all down to the foundation. A testament to human ingenuity.
Anyhow. I’ve been skiing today.
I’m trying to enjoy skiing, snow everywhere, glistening in the heat from the brightly shining sun. Trying to enjoy the sensation and the fresh air, but failing. It’s the actual skiing I don’t like. It’s cross country or vertical skiing. It’s not vertical enough. I have no control in the downward slopes and even though I make the pizza slice thing with the skis, they do not stop. I don’t wanna fall down and expose my ass for everyone to see, cause my belly has a tendency to pull or rather push my pants down somewhat when bending forward, and the ice makes it harder to steer, it’s a bit icy when the snow melts into the snow underneath and then freezes slightly.
Not only do I not wanna expose my ass like described, I also do not want to die.
Tomorrow I will have another go at the skiing because I will enjoy it tomorrow I think. I think I enjoy it in theory.