The Obscure

This is the kind of night where you are loathe to be alone. Not alone in the larger sense, without romantic affiliation--that is something that one can do without, for a time; it is the mere solitude that gets you. I'm here by myself, wasting ink on a piece of paper that I will probably throw out within 24 hours. I'm here all alone, my friends have gone home after spending a day being irritated, ridiculed, and I think for a brief moment or two entertained by me. There is no one I can visit and no one really that I can talk to. My parents spend the twilight together in conversation watching TV, when I go join them I feel somewhat a stranger, invading the brief period of time in which they can be alone together.
Today was the day when I woke up and decided to cut back on my caffiene intake. This Fresca lacks the rejuvenation I require, and my body feels like it is made of a thousand angry bees, having an intense debate over the nature of religion in politics. That is a recipe for discomfort, bees and theology. It's like an insect Mass from hell. You know those insect Masses you are always hearing about? Well this one here, this one is from Hell.
I am a sacriligious insectologist, sue me.
My skull, on the other hand, feels like it is giving birth. Giving birth, that is to say, to a white hot living anvil; that is studded with razor blades... and is drenched in sulfuric acid... and the umbilecal cord is made of the very manifestation of Pain. Pure carnal agony in form of a writhing, fleshy, placenta soaked tube.
I'm generally uncomfortable to say the least, but on the bright side, I haven't yet vomited.

So I while away the time, slaughtering the English language in an attempt to entertain myself and (dare I hope?) others. Things will pop into my mind from time to time, things actually worth writing about.
Tomorrow I am going to a Yankees game in New York with the Engleys. Don't get me wrong, I'm no big fan of the Yankees. But I am no more a fan of them than I am of the Red Sox, or for that matter the Bangladesh Hootinaners (If only that wonderful team existed), it's all relative. I don't much care for sports, I go for the experience of being at a stadium in New York (I've yet to go to New York) and because every other friggin friend in our crew ('ceptin the ladies) has gone with Ryan to Connecticut and stuff already except me. Dagblarnit, I'm due!
Plus hanging out with them is fun in any case. I only hope I don't get carsick, or stadium sick. Or... sidewalk sick. That last one is the worst.

I guess I'm done here. In summary, I'm not having a very good day. I'm lonely, depressed, bored, and in horrible discomfort because of my whole... not coffee-ing thing. The latter infinitely worsens the first three. I'll leave you with that, because otherwise I will turn my Daily Update into repetative whining... at least, more so than I already have.