Empty dorms, empty streets. It's the last hour of my night shift. I am crocheting a doiley and thinking about life, the way it is and the way it was. The dark night makes you think about those things – and so do unfinished for years crocheting projects. I need to finish my doiley. It's not that hard. And the sunrise needs to come quicker. Dawn hours are the saddest ones – make your brain think of all those confusing crocheting dilemmas and life patterns – or vice versa. However, when the sun comes up, your brain suddenly dies and stops being sad – as well as poetic. The last part is something I am sad about. Night is beautiful, and so is the dawn, but sunrise kills your eyes and your brain. Or maybe it is a syndrome of a night shift worker, because sunrise is when those people go to bed.
Coffee. Hot coffee. Coffee normally makes everything better – even the sadness of the dawn. If you have hot coffee – that would fix pretty much anything in this world – you just gotta pick the right vessel to keep it hot for 8 hours – then your life would be perfect. Maybe. Or at least perfect for thinking about life without thinking about how to keep yourself warm.
Sunrise now. And it feels like it's too bright, but coffee does a good job at keeping me warm. Sunrise makes me fee like it's winter. Maybe just because it is a much later sunrise than it was a month ago – and the cloulds look kinda pink like they do on frosty winter days.
I'm a little writing raccoon. That's right. I'm a raccoon who can write. I write a lot. About anything I see. Like, there's a cup of cold, coffee next to me. The freshness of it is very questionable. It might start growing mold any second. But it's still drinkable. So I'll drink it. There are clouds in the sky. And they should cover the sun so that there would not be 105 F outside. Temperatures like this can set my fur on fire, and ill be running around bald until I grow more fur. Though it might be the nature's way to help me get rid of my fur coat so that I could cool off faster. Or maybe nature does not do that. Maybe the coffee is growing a special kind of mold, which gives me hallucinations. Mold is related to mushrooms. Mushrooms can give you hallucinations. So can mold. Maybe. Or maybe I'm just falling asleep because the mold grows and eats out all the caffeine. Evil mold. Nobody and nothing can steal my caffeine from me! Yes, that's right! I'm an evil raccoon, I don't like when my caffeine gets stolen. I have a scratch on my paw. I don't know where it came from. Or maybe it's just a hallucination. You remember the whole coffee deal, right? Well, if not, I won't explain for the second time. You can go back to the beginning and reread the stuff. I like writing, but I get bored when I have to explain something a lot of times – especially about coffee – because if I do that, it might inspire you to steal my caffeine – and that would be bad… for you, because I'll get mad. See how much the little writing raccoon cares about you, dear readers? No, I don't really care about you. I don't want my caffeine being stolen. Period. Telling you that I care about you basically implies that you don't want to steal my coffee because consequences will follow – that is, I care only about me and my coffee – and threaten you so that you would not steal my caffeine from me, whether you are a bison, or random indecisive mold which does not know whether it should grow or not. And the consequences are really scary, so you don't want to know them. They will follow for sure – that is, if you are the one trying to steal my coffee from me. If you are the one bringing me coffee, you'll get a fuzzy hug. Well, if you are the one stealing coffee, you will get a fuzzy hug too, and a thanks from me for trying to rid me of my caffeine addiction. Scary, huh? You don't want to hear me say thanks. It is scary as heck. I smile, stare at you and say thanks. And fuzzy hugs are even more scary! Why? No, I don't have fleas. But how can it be fun to hug a fuzzy animal and not start itching at once? Fleas are cute! But if you want some, you'll have to go talk to my coffee – it might know better. I don't have them. That is, my fur probably does. I don't. Yes, my fur does have them. Listen! They are talking! Oh no… they are talking about stealing my coffee from me. Well, that's no fun. My coffee will be gone, and my fleas will be gone because they will not need me anymore. They have as much of a caffeine addiction as I do. Wait. What is the difference between fleas and coffee? And how did I start talking about coffee and now I'm talking about my imaginary friends – fleas? I have a lot of friends – you won't be able to see them, but they are there. Just look around – they make so much happy noise! They bring fleas and put them in my coffee. Have I told you I am old? I think I was born yesterday actually – but I am older than those who were born today. Much older. A day consists of twenty-four years, right? So if I was born at the beginning of yesterday, I will be forty eight years older than somebody who will be born at the end of today. I think a plant started growing out of my coffee. Oh no! My cow is eating it. It looks like a flea though. Did coffee shrink me and I see mold starting to grow and think it is the size of me? Or is it a flower pot sitting next to me? Dirt indeed looks like coffee. Hmmm. How do you distinguish between coffee and dirt? I actually don't think there is any difference. Fleas will steal and eat either.
Another night shift. Interesting, I've always treated them as night flights or night rides. Somehow poetic, somehow sad, and somehow painful. Rain is falling on the roof of the building, which is making it hard for me to hear my music.
Rain makes me feel sad, and it makes me feel like it's summer, and makes me realize the whole epoch in my life is over. During the last couple of weeks I started to see my life completely differently from how I used to see it.
I feel like my life is over, and new life began. I don't know yet what I want to do with it, but I can do more things with it than I could do with my previous life I guess.
There we go, I forgot about my blog. Dragged away in my own thoughts and stupid facebook games that are doing a poor job at keeping me entertained. I have yet a bunch of homework to do. And I am still experiencing some sort of empty sadness I haven't experienced in a long time. I think that finals week feels like that every time. But also, at the end of finals week the sky is usually painfully beautiful. Maybe because I am realizing the freedom I am about to get. Maybe because I am realizing that the price for the freedom is usually loneliness. And because every time the summer comes, I end up missing somebody, and that somebody normally has no idea about it.
Well, I guess it's about time for the summer to be here – just one more busy day.
It is windy outside. And sort of cold – but it is not the type of cold when you should be sitting inside and drinking hot chocolate. In fact, it is too warm for hot chocolate, but too cold to be walking outside comfortably… *Yawn* Fish bowl. I need to clean it so that my fish would not die. I'm yawning too much, so I need to watch out for the fish not to jump into my mouth by itself and get accidentally eaten unnoticed. Yeah, why am I yawning? I should go to sleep. But I had a Monster a few hours ago, so I am partially sleepy and partially hyper. Too sleepy to be productive and too hyper to go to sleep. How I met your mother? Too tired for that too. Minecraft? Sounds cool, but I should finish my blanket so that I could play Minecraft wrapped up in my blanket. Eh… there's homework, too. Meh. I wanna go to bed. But I don't want to sleep. And I won't be able to sleep until I wash my fish bowl, because I will feel guilty that my fish has to swim in a fish bowl with only two inches of water since everything else evaporated. At least I watered my plants. How come I have enough water for plants, but not enough water for my fish? Plants drink chlorine water, which would kill the fish. So plants get lots of poor quality water, while my fish gets a little bit of good water. Okay. But I don't think my fish is happy to be swimming in 2 inches of good water – which is not good anymore anyways. So that is why I need to clean my fish bowl. But I still haven't decided what I am gonna do with the possibility of my fish getting eaten unnoticed, because it would be better for the fish to be swimming in the 2 inches of water than getting eaten. However, the eaten fish is not feeling anything, while a fish swimming in 2 inches of water is definitely unhappy. On the other hand, the fish obviously wants to be alive, so I would say it does not want to get eaten, and would rather live in a dirty bowl. Fish can't talk. How do I really know what it likes? Meh. I should clean the stupid bowl and make the fish feel happy.