Mum's out getting groceries, Ben's playing a video game, and I'm sitting here wishing I had Tylenol to get rid of my massive headache.
I suddenly hate a lot of things. I'm just getting ancy, like on my tippy-toes, like I'm waiting for something or everything to happen all at once, and I just hate everything I liked. Do you know what I mean? Like mid-life crisis at seventeen. Quarter-life crisis. Well, hopefully, less than a quarter. 1/8th life crisis. Well, something along those lines. But you know, everything's on my nerves. One sound of a pindrop, and I'm liable to explode into a million, trillion pieces. Spontaneous human combustion, and nothing will be left but my legs and the ashes of my torso, head, and arms. Paintings will be strewn, wallpaper will be blackened, as I lay in a heap of disenegrated waste. And that's what'll happen. Exactly what'll happen.
Did you know that the human heart can be removed while beating in a mere 17 seconds? It's true! I saw it this morning on the Discovery Channel. I was watching a show on the Aztecs. They were brutal. I almost sympathize with the Spaniards, to be honest. I would want to save the people whose hearts are torn out from underneath their rib cages, I would want to spread my religion, I would want to help them escape the terror. Which, it's been found that outside of the main city, the states under Aztec control wanted freedom from the murderous rituals, which helped lead to the downfall. In four days there were 20,000 people sacrificed, 20,000 people lost their hearts every two minutes on 19 alters, and they just waited patiently in line. Man oh man. And their weaponry was so harsh that there was no way the Spanish could simply defeat them, no matter what technology. The warring states, the need to capture victims instead of kill them, and the smallpox epidemic lead to the loss on the Aztecs' parts. It's amazing what you learn from tv...
A math teacher from another highschool told my mum that a lot of girls that loved archeology when younger grow up to become involved in film and theatre. She said that three girls she taught, including the principle's daugher, loved archeology, and absorbed it just like me, and all three went on to film and theatre, just like me. That's so weird! I wonder what it is about it that leads to art instead of history... I think I love ancient cultures because I see it like a film. I see the rituals, Gods, immersion of culture, like a little film just waiting to be seen by everybody. Like Indiana Jones or something. I liked the films more than anything else in the documentaries... maybe I'll make a film about ancient Aztec culture someday, and how the heart can be cut out of the chest with a flintstone knife in seventeen seconds.
I also learned that three men could really, actually escape Alcatraz in a boat made out of rubber rainjackets. 'Tis true! The story goes that three men dug holes in their cells of the unescapable fortress prison, Alcatraz (it's like a castle built on an island in California, surrounded by turbulant waters on all sides, one of the highest security prisons on Earth) with spoons, and covered the holes up with cardboard grates they made out of boxes. They made fake people and put them on their beds at night, and snuck to the top of the prison behind the walls, and slowly built a raft out of fifty stolen raincoats, blowing up the sides with a modified accordion. Then, after carefully studying the tides for months, they snuck out one night through the holes, up the walls, through some pipes, and to the roof, blew up the raft, scaled down the roof, and paddled out into the water. They were never heard from again. Supposedly they were heading toward Angel Island nearby, but they probably made that up and told prisoners that to throw the police off their trail. They probably went to the mainland, since that's where the currents and tides led them. One of their paddles was found floating from the mainland all the way to Angel Island to prove that they made it, but a bag full of phone numbers of contacts and photos and money was found in the water. I think that they tossed the bag in the water, to once again, throw police off their tails. I like to think that they made it out alive, and are retired in Florida right now. What a nice story, eh?
Anyway... oh! Get a load of this, one of my diary entries on another site was pulled off because I said the word "thong". Like no one's ever heard the word "thong"! Once again, I'm starting to hate everything. Well, not hate, just dislike immensely. It's against the Bible to hate. Everyone's so anal retentive now-a-days. So intent on proving his or herself to everyone, so intent on seeming better than everyone else. Have you noticed? It's a sudden wave of pretentiousness that's seemed to penetrate everyone's thought processes. Walk outside in my pajamas? NEVER! Why, all of a sudden, does everyone care? No one's cared before!
There are some people that pretend to be constantly happy or constantly apologetic, and must subconsiously be out to rip other people apart. I'm starting to see that all apologies are becoming two-faced, double-faceted. Like, if I were upset, someone would say, "Well, I'm sorry that you feel that way." Or if someone were smiling, it would be at my moment of greatest despair. Do you see it too, or am I just going insane? Why is the world suddenly cut-throat, but hidden? Why, behind the teeth, is there a knifed tongue? I don't understand what happened to kindness or courtesy. I find that only the rare person is ever believable. The unbelievable ones may not even be so mean on purpose. What's society done wrong to warrant such a problem? To produce such catastrophe? It's the bait on a hook, I guess, the yin in the yang of the world. I can't say anything, I'm probably just as bad as everyone else.
And the title is from Will & Grace.