Manic Much?

okay and here's another thing about the state of mind I'm in: my weird-ness kinda' gets turned up to 11 and things... I dunno'... kinda' happen around me? Like, the street light goes out when I walk under it (because I happened to hit the intermittent pattern at exactly the right time). Or something falls off the desk when my back is turned (because I was careless when I put it down to begin with.) Or like I'll joke that it's going to rain at exactly 2:19 for ten minutes and then it does (because that's what it's been doing for the last three months). Or like I'll hope real hard that a certain kind of traffic pattern takes place and then it does (because duh, that's like a 50-50 shot anyway).

Now that I'm married and my troll-tail has fallen off and I'm mostly human now, it's not as pronounced is it previously was. Didn't know I had a tail? Ask me about it sometime. I'll tell you all about it.

I digress. I notice things when I'm like this. Like the spotted, brown flicker that's perched impossibly on the perfectly vertical brick facade of the building - at 10 floors up. Like the broken-glass patterns in the creases of the skin on the backs of my hands.

Like I'm now as old as Jesus was when he died.

Like I'm 33 - and somehow the weight of both of those three's seems really important but I don't know why or how.

Like how Ringo Starr is almost seventy years old.

Like the light that's hitting the floor in the office right now left the sun about 10 minutes ago and light from the stars is still falling on the same spot though it left hours ago... and it can't be seen, and if it could it would look no different.

Like the rose in the jar on my desk is the perfect, velvety shade of red, but as it ages it gets more complicated and more pretty even though it floats at an angle and three of the petals in the inner most rings are already dried up and black.

Like how I'm breathing air that has always been air and how one or seven of these molecules might have gone for weeks, years, centuries without having been breathed at all AND how so many other of the molecules must have been breathed, rebreathed, and re-re-breathed over and over again since the earth first cradled a set of lungs to breathe them.

Like how there could be ghosts wandering through me right now and neither of us would ever know. And like how ghosts might not even be dead people after all but something entirely different and as normal and natural as deer or rain regardless of if they can as yet be measured or monitored by modern science.

See what I mean? turned up to 11. to 15.