The one am blues.
Sometimes, I feel like I am the convict and the warden, both together.
The next question then becomes; who is the guard and what is the key?
For that matter, where is the key and who has it?
The contents of ones cranium are mysterious.

First thing in the morning, but wide awake. The only one up, and I want this time to last longer. I should go wake up my mum in a couple of minutes, but I like this blue-grey light, quiet living room coffee time alone. I can just breathe here.

My laptop is currently in the possession of my mildly psychotic father, which is a pity, because I'm working on a story with a friend who can't read my handwriting. Okay, to be honest, no one can read my handwriting; it's insanely messy. The other day, one of my closest friends thought that my last name, which is seven letters long and has no O's, I's, or T's said Clinton.

Our society is obsessed with moons, have you noticed? Earth's moon, the moons of Jupiter, whatever. There's something within us that the moon calls to, some primitive part of us that sees it and wants to howl. It also reminds us of all the things we believed in when we were children, stuff like werewolves and faeries. People think it's cute when little kids believe in them, but if adults do, their cracked. What's with that? People believe in God, don't they?

I keep having these weird dreams, and I can barely remember them in the morning. Last night's had to do with me playing quiet music on a black electric guitar, in my seventh grade classroom. (I can play guitar, but I don't own an electric.) And the Jonas Brothers were there (EW!) and I was arguing with them about the nature of consumerism.
It was really, really strange.

I love Paul Simon. I'm having trouble waking up this morning. I should clean my kitchen and have a shower. I should also be working on my novel.
I had a strange dream last night about Boylan's soda and Londsdale Quay combined with the newstand in YVR and the new ferry terminal in Naniamo. Very strange. I was in pj's in the dream, and someone was pulling my hair. When I woke up, my hand was tangled in my hair, which is funny, because my hair is short enough that that's really difficult to do.
In my life, I have two things I really need to do; write and help people. I don't think I'm going to college, at least not right away. I need to work on those two things first.

Ali. I love you, but quit reading my blog. -Boo