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So...This Is Normal Life... before/after And the snow falls furiously down. It makes me feel warm, like a blanket. A blanket so cold, a blanket so cold. Apparently I start classes tonight.� My mother is a department chair at a local university, so I have college bigwigs scrambling to get me enrolled, tuition assistance and et cetera. Eventually I wish to be a cerified network administrator.� Or evidentally so.� This wasn't entirely my idea, and I know I will end up being a certified cisco something or the other, as well.� I don't even know. I suppose this is all well and good, and part of the 'rents plan to keep me around.� For now I am all right witht this, as I have much healing to do. (As a testament...I normally cruise around at a muscular 190-195.� Before my last treatment, I weighed 152.� Forty fucking pounds.� I despise being this thin.� However, I am on the sunnier side of things, and now begins the ravenous hunger, wherein I eat mah ass off, gain all the weight back, work out, and build it right this time.� My doctor will be my doctor for the rest of her career, and "*knock*knock* I should not get sick again.� Unless I turn into an ID dominated asshole again, and start doing all sorts of drugs like its going out of style.� Its strange to think that I will never do X again.� Or a lot of other things.� But in a real sense, health aside, I really don't think I need to do much more of anything.� Whatever was high-strung in me is long since dead, and "reality" has never seemed quite so weird.) So...class.� What a notion.� And should things work the way I desire, it will definitely be applicable to life plans.� I need a "trade".� I need a dependable way to provide for myself, and this seems to be a quick easy way.� With a few twists, I will have what I want. I have to pile through the storm to go see admissions, then go back later for class.� C++ class, which is the class I insisted upon. I may be able to get a lot done in a short amount of time.� *sigh* This is all so strange.� I can see why I tend to focus in on my passions and appettites, to the exclusion of all else.� Much simpler and uncomplicated. Real life has always mystified me.� I've been more associated with watcing the snow drift down, and mourning the loss of poetry and art in this time of the year 2002, the age of paranoia. Mortgages?� Loans?� Bills?� These are the things that seem to me to be so abstract.� Why would I want to own a house?� Why would I want to live in the same place for 10-20-30 years? Something tells me I'd rather pursue what moves me until I die, which following that path would be sooner rather than later. But I'm not entirely sure that's an option.� Perhaps this is the chapter where the System finally grabs ahold of my skinny ass and straightens me the fuck out. Joy. I could rot in jail, but if I had a window where I could gaze at the snow, and drift through my mind from memory to memory, my soul would still be unbowed. Well, off to deal. �
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