ANATHEMA

Dictionary Definition

Definition of ANATHEMA

1

a : one that is cursed by ecclesiastical authorityb : someone or something intensely disliked or loathed —usually used as a predicate nominative <this notion wasanathema to most of his countrymen — S. J. Gould>

2

a : a ban or curse solemnly pronounced by ecclesiastical authority and accompanied by excommunicationb : the denunciation of something as accursedc : a vigorous denunciation : curse

Examples of ANATHEMA

1. a politician who is anathema to conservatives
2. ideas that are an anathema to me
3. Maugham was not only prolific but also a best-seller, though snobs dismissed his work as middlebrow (a category that few people worry about in our day but that once was anathema). —Edmund White, New York Review of Books, 12 Feb. 2009

What do I think?: I think that this is a situational word. A formal word that at some time became a coloquial word. It is also a strong word.

What do I feel?: I'm not sure what I feel about this word. If anything I feel distant. Yet close. I feel like I could be something of an anathema to my parents. I'm sure every teenager feels like that at times.

 

How can I use this word?: I'm not sure. It seems really specific and strong. Any use of it would really be hyperbolic rather than genuine. I'm not sure if that is a bad or good thing. I know Hemingway would beat me over the head with it.

How will I explain this word to others?: I'd say that it is something akin to an extremely strong pet peeve. 

Words

So I've fallen behind on my writing. I've mostly been posting random emotional crap. Which apparently isn't that interesting. So I'm starting a new side project.

Word Smithing


I want to pick apart the words that I use, put some new ones in there. I want to examine them, I want to look at them and ask myself what does the dictionary say, what do I think, what do I feel, how can I use this word, how will I explain this word to others?

I always complain that english sucks because we don't have the right words. Well what if we aren't using all the words we have. I'm challenging myself to write at least three posts a week about three different words.

Sexy?

Yesterday one of the great mysteries of my life was solved once and for all.

Why do I attract creepers?

Well the reason is apparently I look very sexy when I'm close to becoming violently ill. In the past two days me looking like this:

Has gotten me hit on almost every time I go out. 

Normal me that looks like this:

Gets ignored.

Sense not being made! At least I have the answer to one of my lifes greatest questions!

Balance and Snowflakes

I stumble too much. This morning during my morning stumble fest I came across a graphic that said he is 90% of the reason that I get up in the morning, the other 10% is because I have to pee. Amusing, but it made me thing why the hell DO I get up in the morning?  Serious question here, what really drives my life?

And there is a part of me that goes automatically HIM! And at first I really agreed with that quote, it was a bit snarky and romantic(A little like me, at least I think). And thanks to my roommate I thought about that assumption, and in that moment, I realized that there was no way in hell that he was the one that I getting my ass out of bed for. I am not living my life for him, if anything I'm currently doing it for my parents. I wake up and I go to school and I try to do my best. I try to do everything to make them happy, because my survival depends upon it. I would literally die without my parents support, or come very close. I am terrified not to be my best, to make a single mistake.

I am afraid to live. I am afraid to veer off the path that my parents have mapped out for me. I am afraid of the unknown, even though I always question what is known. I sit and I think and I think about it, and that to me is fun. Yet I'm never happy with what I have. I am always looking for more, more because that is what expected of me. Expected by everyone around me. I let fear and greed drive me. Is that really what I want for my life?

And again I start looking at the web of causes, all the things that come together to make up my experiences. The things that have shaped me into who I am. I see that and I go, that is the difference between children and adults, children let the world shape them, for better or for worse. Adults are set, their view are set and made, they will not change. Like everything else in this world, both extremes have good and bad parts.

And I'm sitting here, thinking about everything I've discovered. I want to shoot myself in the head. Because it is so much fucking easier to be un-happy. Happiness isn't easy. Hell contentment isn't easy. It isn't happy in the first place, but add in all the pressures of the modern world and well oh holy shit what the fuck is going on here! Everything is wrong, and everything is right. I am not handling this fact well. Hopefully I will be able to in time, but I know I've come upon this realization serval times in my life time and each time I subsequently forget it. Because I haven't dealt with it.

Despite everything being right and wrong, the rights and wrong that matter are my own. This does not mean that my rights or wrongs are superior to anyone else's. Just different. In fact, if they are what works for me then they are only best for me. If they help others, that is wonderful, if they don't well that is life.

So fucking what if each snowflake is individual, if that is the nature of snow flakes then does that make each different snowflake special? No, individual and special are two different words and have two different meanings. Individual means that they are different and distinct from all the others. Different and distinct do not mean that any one snowflake is more beautiful than the rest. There is no way to measure beauty. Yes there are numbers like the golden ratio and such that can predict that humans will most likely find that snowflake more attractive. But the golden ratio does not tell us something is beautiful. We decide that for ourselves.

That is the tricky thing about statistics. They are numbers, and yet what most of us do not realize about them is that they are a chance. Following stats is basically gambling, and sometimes even when you do all the right things, you will still loose. This is the nature of things. Maybe we will eventually find out why this happens, but I'm not even sure if we get that far it will stop it from happening!

What I'm trying to say in a really uber roundabout way is that there is no one snowflake that 100% of the people in the world, ever, agreed is more beautiful than the rest. The same goes for people. There is no one person that is better than all the rest. There never will be. We are all the same by virtue of us all being different. Some snowflakes, and people, may be radically different from the others, but the only thing that makes them is more different. I'm sure a bunch of people are asking, but what about people like Mother Theresa or Hitler, they were completely good and completely bad, how can you say that I am just the same as them? That is the difference between humans and snowflakes. We can pretty much measure every dimension of a snowflake, we can physically quantify every little difference about it and possibly compare it to all the other snowflakes ever. We cannot do that with peoples thoughts. At the end of the day the only thing you truly own is your thoughts, and no one can take that away from you. Maybe secretly Hitler felt terrible, maybe Mother Theresa secretly wanted to punch everyone in the face.  We cannot know this, and we cannot measure it. Special people are people with outward extremes that can be perceived as a good or bad by others.

So where am I going with this? What I'm trying to say is we are all different, and this is neither good nor bad. It is a fact. What works for you might not work for someone else. In the grand scheme what does it matter? The only thing we can do is to live our lives the way we want, and let things effect us the way we want.

But the best thing we can do is stop judging ourselves.

Sunlight

Eyes fly open, drawing the curtains to a soul

At the dawn of its enlightenment

Senses set on fire, but delights formerly denied

Doors once locked and barred fly open

And all that was is washed clean

By all that could and would be

And yet fear still hides,

In the corners unilluminated by reason

Lurking for its chance to resume

Ruling thoughts.

Steel

I once had someone describe me as steel, so many different conflicting aspects, so many different shapes I could take, so many different things I could do. All of them beautiful, all of them important.

At the time I was only looking for flattery. It has almost been a year since he said those words to me, but I don't think they have every rung more true. He saw what I couldn't see, he saw who I could be. He asked if he could be my tempering flame, I'm not sure he knows how true that term has become for our relationship. Maybe that was his intent, because through all the years he has been behind me pushing me to be more. Pushing me to take one more step, to become somebody that I could be proud of.

Yet I can't share this with barely anyone. They tell me I'm reading too much into it. That life isn't a fairy tale. That I've got my head in the clouds. That I need to be realistic. I need to move on. I hear it all the time, and yes maybe I do share my feelings, my insecurities, my pain, my sorrow, my joy, my worries, my hopes, my dreams, about him too much. There is so much more to me than him, but I feel like the only person that really understands that is him.

All these people that tell me to be more realistic, they don't accept my other dreams either. They tell me I cannot go to Italy. They tell me that I'm crazy for trying to be a writer. That I shouldn't joke the way I do. That I shouldn't adhere to any one religion because no religion is going to fit perfectly. They tell me I'm stupid for believing that there is some kind of magic out there.

For some reason I call these people my friends.

And yes they do have some good points. But then they turn around and say I should be more accepting of others? And yes they are right about that, but at the same time they are wrong. None of these people want to accept me for who I am, why the hell should I spend time with them? I can accept them sure, but spend time with them, are you insane? 

Maybe it is because I always see and hear the negative first, I keep those things close to me because that is all I have ever known. I'm fighting that, I'm working every day at a tangible change. I am doing everything I can to temper myself into steel, to become something better than I was. And I have come so far from where I was, I've had the summer to sit on my own and really be unaffected by others. Now that I'm back at school I feel trapped.

I feel like I'm in a cage.

I do not always know how to act and react. How to communicate my feelings at the appropriate times in the appropriate ways. I feel trapped because he is there watching me, and I do not want to mistake. I feel like the spotlight is on me, like I cannot move because I am blinded by the light he is shining on me. I feel like I can't be myself because I'm always on display and I always have to be perfect. If I screw up in one small way I could ruin what I want, inadvertently. I feel my prison getting tighter as I realize that there is no good way for me to tell him how this is bothering me. I feel frantic and stuck because there is nothing I can do and it isn't fair to me. I want to break free of this, to say that I am done with this stupid game, that I am not some pet or toy to be played with.

Yet then I would lose the person that has always seen the best of me, and the worst. Maybe I've lost him already, I don't know but as of right now there is still a chance. But I know that if I tell him how I feel right now, I will be disrespecting his wishes and it will all be done. So this becomes a catch 22. It gets worse when the only way to get him to listen to me is to physically force him to do it, or have another person help me. Which would only make this so much worse. 

And everyone of course has their own opinion and are pressuring me to do something other than what I have planned. Every once and a while I get someone supportive and I love it. I am so blessed to have those people in my life. I do not know what I would do without them. Yet the others... I just want to get away from it. I can't trust them to respect my beliefs, I can't trust them to respect my wishes. And it hurts. And makes this even more a prison. 

And yet in the darkest moments there is light. I know I can get through this, even though I may not know exactly how I will do it, I will get it done. I will be strong. I will be steel. And if he never gets to see what all his work has done, it is his loss and another's treasure. But one way or another I will become steel.

I am going to die...

I haven't done a funny post in a while. So here it goes...

Today I got a text message from my father: Watchout an emu is on the loose and headed twoards bloomington. There are two very important things you must know.

This is an emu.

This is me, when I see a bird.

I am terrified, no pathologically afraid of birds! Why might you ask? Well you see, I was viscously attacked by a rooster, WITH SPURS, when I was about four. I looked like I had been in a gang fight, bruises, cuts, the whole shebang.

So when my dad tells me there is a six foot tall flightless monster on its way to my town, I'm freaking out. I don't think this picture of me still in my pajamas, with my hair curling and my eyes wide open does this justice! I fracking hate birds. I loath birds. I freeze and cannot move when I see a bird. When a sparrow flies by I let out screams of fear akin to a horror movie hooker being cut into little bite sized pieces for a cannibal.

So if you never hear from me again, this is why. I have been killed by an emu!

Making the Best

Things are looking up. I'm starting to feel at home here, making friends. I love it. I've been helping people out, mostly freshmen. Making friends and such. Trying to be the helpful sophomore that I never had. It has gone well. Thank all that is holy that my medications started working. 

I'm still a little bit nervous, I have a plan... But I dunno. We'll see where life goes. I should really write chapter two, but I haven't had any inspiration...

Half Moon Magic- Chapter One(Draft one)

Okay, so this is my attempt at my first chapter. I know how I want this to be written, but I'm not exactly sure how to do this.

Mornings are a wonderful way to start a story. Not only do stories that start in the morning have a poetic sense to them, they also give a sense of what every day is like. Mornings are inherently full of ritual. So this story begins with a morning.

At five thirty Roxana's alarm goes off. Her body does not stir. The alarm rings again five minuets later. Roxana doesn't even twitch. Another five minuets pass, her mother starts her rounds. First Martin's room, Martin is Roxana's brother. He is four years younger than Roxana. Mother's voice carries through Roxana's door, 

"Wake up. It is time to wake up. Rise and shine". Roxana's eyes snapped open, she closed them again to examine the wispy memories of her dreams. A high squeak signaled the opening of Roxana's door.

"I'm awake." It was a game that Roxana played with herself, telling her mom she was awake before she could open her mouth.

"Good morning Rox. You gonna get out of bed?" Her mothers tone switched over from warrior to mother. 

"Yup." Roxana's phone was already in her hands and she was texting him.

"You at it already Roxie?" Her mother sighed, she did not like him.

"Of course, it would be rude not to say good morning."

"Whatever you say dear." Her mother left, with a distinct heaviness to her step.

Roxana unplugged the phone from its charger and started the daily dance of crawling out of her bed and down the ladder one handed. From there her morning continued. She continued to try and get a hold of him. She didn't hear from him.

Roxana went through a typical morning, putting clothes on, fixing her hair, doing make-up, all with her phone right beside her. Every few moments she looked over at it hopefully, thinking that this time he might answer her. Each time there was no answer she felt a twinge of disappointment. If he did not text her back, he was not awake. If he was not awake he would miss class. If he missed class he flunked out of school. If he flunked out of school, well their relationship was doomed. Each time he didn't respond her texts became more and more frantic. As if the more times his phone rang he would wake up and answer it, and get to class.

A half hour passed and Roxana found her self on edge. Martin was running late, as usual, and they had to be on time to school to drop off their neighbor Alex.

"Come on butt munch lets go!" Roxana yelled up the stairs.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Martin replied as a he pulled his pants on. Roxana sighed, it was like this every morning but it never stopped irritating her. Martin finally got himself together and the siblings went out to the car. Alex ran over and the three got off to school without a hitch.

What they didn't know was this was the beginning of the day that changed everything.

I think the ending is a little too ominous, and perhaps a little too short. Of course I will keep working on it.

Drugs

For those of you who don't know. I have to take pills to keep me semi sane. Who am I kidding I'm totally insane anyway. I just have to take drugs so I don't piss other people off by being annoying(ADHD) and so I don't piss them off again by being sad(Depression). If you can't tell the drugs for the depression aren't working. I finally called the doctor. I was told that I was indeed going through withdrawl. Fun.

Of course I'm still all alone in my dorm room... Not by choice this year. Whatever.

College... Year Two!

So. I'm moving back into college today. Let the insanity start!

I'm rather nervous cause I'm brining my grandma's ring, but not grandma(She's in a locket, or whats left of her is.). I know awkward details nobody needs to know. Its just nice to have a part of one of the bravest strongest most sarcastic women I've had the pleasure of being related to with me. Plus its pretty... and my finger feels weird without it on. I'm just making excuses for myself now.

...

So in all the insanity I forgot to finish this post. I got here, I fought, I had Stake n Shake. I also got sick(happens every damn time I move from home to college!) Which is why I'm up so early. I actually have plans to hang out and be social today! With somebody not my roommate. I'm excited.

Angst

Dear Depression,

I hate you. I loath you. I wish that you had never become a part of my life. I never asked you to come and invade my thoughts, and yet here you are giving everything a gray scummy haze. I have been fighting you my whole life. At least as long as I can remember. You have taken everything from me, including the thing I hold most dear: myself.

I have fought you, tooth and nail. I have tried to hide this demon inside me from the rest of the world. I've tried to make it seem as if I am normal. I've taken pills, I've told my story to those who were supposed to help. And I was betrayed, again and again. Because of you. You imbalance of chemicals in my brain. You that causes fear that paralyzes me. You that I have little control over.

Go a head and say we see life how we wish to see it, but this is not the case. I have grasped at the light, I know the light is there, but when you, my demon, are in control I cannot hold on to it. I can not hold onto the lights of my life. Because of that, because of this curse, this burden that I had no part in, I have spiraled out of control.

At first I didn't understand. I was too young, to inexperienced to know that this was not right. I thought I was being punished for something. I though that god had made a mistake. That I was some kind of fluke. That it was my fault that people were mean to me, and while those thoughts lingered in the back of my mind I had them confirmed. They were confirmed by the adults with the training to help me. They told me it was my fault for being impulsive, this is why the other kids didn't like me.

It has only been in the last two months that I have truly battled you. I have looked you in the eye and I've ripped apart your lives. I've rescued myself. I have started the rest of my life, my life without you.

And yet you are still here. You sneak up on me, you take total control of me. No matter how much good I see, no matter how many blessings I have, you turn them dark. I fight you, I do. I try to make it so that I can use the lessons I've learned.

Today you won. Tomorrow you wont. I will not let you win. I got my life back once and I will do it again. I will hunt you down you sneaky bastard until you are banished from me. I will use every goddamn tool I have at my disposal. I will not let you take over my life again. Let this be your warning you piece of shit. I'm coming for you, since its my head your in, theres no place for you to hide that I cannot find.

Hell hath no wrath like a woman who you fucked with,
Lilly

Life

So I've been working on my fears, working on putting my self doubt in a jar as my cousin told me. I've had a lot of success so far. Life seems to be coming together for me. I know that it will never be perfect. I know that things will go up and down. Yet I'm happy. I'm happy that I'm alive. I'm living my own life. I'm taking charge.

And guess what, for once it is working! Heh. I'm actually getting on top of things and working on it rather then sitting around lamenting what has gone wrong... I just need to keep working out my writing muscles! I 've started posting my theories about a book series I read on their forums, its going quiet well. Yay analytical muscle work out! Woot positivity. And all other kinds of exclamations of awesomeness that is going down in my life! Lots of happiness around here. And most importantly balance and contentment.

Erik

Character Chart

PART I. PHYSICAL
Full name: Erik
Date of Birth/Age: November 1 1972, 39
Address:
Race/Ethnic Background/Nationality: Swedish and Finnish
Height: Around 6' 1"
Weight/Body Build: 190 lbs, kind of chunky.
Hair: Dirty Blonde.
Eyes: Brown.
Peculiar Physical Traits:
Glasses/Contacts: Nope
Smokes: When he was in college.
Nervous Habits: Stuttering.
Distinguishing Marks
Health: Good.
Smell: Manly....
Voice: Kind of high for his build, but very calming.

Usual Walking Style: Normal?
Mannerisms: Doesn't talk with his hands, has no real mannerisms.
What type of clothes/shoes/accessories does he/she wear? Typical guy stuff with a nerdy twist.
Any peculiar tastes in clothes/shoes/accessories? T-shirt and jeans, like most men.
Eating habits/mannerisms/tastes: Loves food. Adores food. Worships the fridge, the holy alter of food.

PART II. GENERAL
Occupation/Social Class:  Upper middle class.
Views on Money/Spending Habits: He has it, he saves it, he uses it.
Education/Intelligence: Has a college degree, highly intelligent.
Marital Status: Single!
Birth Order: Second born.
Political Party/Views: Thinks that the government has gone to hell.
Religious Beliefs/Strength of Beliefs: Loosely christian...
Sexual Orientation/Values: Straight... Thats all I really know right now.
What is his/her usual disposition? Happy, but a realist, which some take a pessimism.
Optimist/Pessimist? Realist all the way!
Introvert/Extrovert? A little bit of both I think, but more towards extrovert.
Confident/Self-conscious? More confident than anything.
How does he/she feel about his/her appearance? He cares but not to the point of vanity.
Type of car: A truck.
Most important possession: His tools.
Hobbies/Recreations/Sports: He likes to tinker with things, work on projects, he takes after his father in that way. He enjoys watching sports but he isn't a huge sports fan.
Talents: Tinkering, definitely tinkering. Oh and being right.
What is a normal day like for this character? Working, having crazy ideas, messing with his latest projects.
Greatest Fear: Failure.
Major Goals
1.
2.
3.
4.
PART III. RELATIONSHIPS
Significant Other/Relationship: Nobody yet.
Who does he/she live with? Himself, the only person that you truly have to live with.
Who does he/she spend the most time with? His co-workers and occasionally his family.
Father/Relationship with him/Occupation: Howard. Definitely awesome. Shop teacher.
Mother/Relationship with her/Occupation: Berenice. Not as awesome as his dad.
Siblings/Relationships: Heather, pretty awesome.
Children/Ages: None
Best Friend: .... Haven't named him yet derrrrrp.
Other Important Friends: See above.
Feelings toward animals: Loves dogs, is okay with cats.
How does he/she view his family? He loves them and all the quirks that come with them.
How does he/she view his friends? Pretty much the same as his family.
How does he/she view his boss/co-workers/employees? Depends who they are as a person, he tends to get really annoyed at ignorant people.
How does his family view him? They love him unconditionally, as family should.
How does his friends view him?
How does his boss/co-workers/employees view him? They think he is pretty brilliant, and they get annoyed and jealous sometimes.
Who is his hero?
Other comments: I need to work on this more, and add last names! Oh well at least I'm flexing my writing muscle.

Bravery

Many people have said that bravery is not the absence of fear, it is doing what is right even when you are afraid.

I need to become more brave. My whole life I've been so afraid of everything, because I've lived in a world of drama, where the slightest wrong move can bring everything tumbling down. I've had financial stability all my life, but I have rarely had emotional stability. Growing up like this has lead me down a dark dark path.

I've started to get away from that path, blaze my own trail. Yet it is hard. My parents are after all parents, its is hard for them to let go of their children. I think this is different than that. I've been on the verge of adulthood for the past few years, and my parents can usually catch themselves when they are doing this. No this is something different, this is a lack of respect and acceptance.

My parents are very emotionally driven people. If there is one thing I've learned it is that emotions are neither good or bad. They just are. You have to just accept that and live with it. My parents have not learned this lesson yet, and likely never will. This is a source of great frustration for me. Because I have to change to survive, my parents don't. The people who made my life hellish, don't have to change. I know there are aspects of me that have made life hellish for others, and I'm okay with changing those. I'm okay with becoming better.

I am becoming better, but what makes the fear come through stronger is the reactions of my parents. Often they become like three year olds if put under stress, and will lash out on me or my brother if we make one tiny wrong move. This includes not behaving as they think we should, otherwise meaning that acting not like them. I have to fight and fight hard to become who I need to be. It is terrifying. Hopefully this next year at college, getting away from them will make things better.

So, the book

I have a title for a book, and a pretty well thought out plot. I know there are bits I won't post. Mostly because that would give away the book and well I actually want people to read the thing, and in less your one of my awesome friends from real life, then I don't think giving the whole plot away is going to make you want to read it.

As for a title... Well the working title is Half Moon Magic. I have my reasons for calling it that, but I think that it might give too much of the plot away. I'm not sure I'm going to keep the tie in even in the book. So obviously I'm not too sure what I'm going to call the damn thing besides the novel.

As for writing the damn thing, I have quotes and ideas but that is about it. None of the characters are really speaking to me right now so I'm trying to go through and work on them, learn who they are. I have a pretty good idea of Isaac of all people. Roxana is slowly coming to me. The rest are blank slates beyond the little blurbs I wrote. I guess the characters just have to show me who they are, rather then me telling them who to be.

Lines

I'm a messed up person. Anyone who reads this blog knows that. Anyone who reads it also knows that I am working on making a change. About fixing what has gone wrong in my life. One of the biggest things I seem to do is play games with myself. I say if he or she doesn't do this by now, then well they don't really mean what they are saying. Obviously this is not true.

I'm not sure why I draw these lines and play these games. All it does is make me more upset about a situation. I'm trying to stop. Since the only person I play this game with is boyfriend, and well we all know how that turned out.

I believe that everyone draws these lines. How soon is it to call after a first date? What does go up for coffee mean to her? All that kind of stuff, we put meaning where there is none for no apparent reason. It isn't like there is a manual to relationships that we all have read and all understand. Each person has their own rules and values, yet we act like those values and rules are the same as ours by applying meaning to their actions with out really knowing them.

I take this game to the extreme, even when I do know somebody I still do this. I blame it on my father and family, like most other things. That doesn't mean I can't try to change it. In fact this post is an attempt at me trying to distract myself from the invisible line I drew with boyfriend. I said I would wait for him to read what I had written, well with in five minuets he hadn't responded and I began to thing THAT LIAR HE LIED TO ME! There was no evidence behind this feeling, other then he didn't text me back. There are at least a million better and more sane reasons for not texting somebody back.

But my mind jumps to the nefarious one. So here I am writing about my thought processes and repeating in my head, "Change takes time. You are cared about. It is okay to feel this way just not to act on it. You are a good person. You can do this." Over and over to try to quel my feelings of holy shit he lied to me. And maybe he did, so fucking what? It isn't the end of the world, it just hurts a lot.

Another step in the right direction I guess, trying to calm myself down and work on the reason I'm freaking out rather then reacting.

Parents

I'm nearly 20. I realize I'm going to sound like a typically whiney teenager, but apparently everything has to be done on my parents schedule, and it upsets me. If you want somebody to do something right, do it on their terms, ask nicely. Do not just randomly force shit on them. I'm so tired of my parents deciding what needs to be done and when it needs to be done for me. I'm not ten anymore, yes I'm a messy person, but telling me to clean my room at 9 o'clock so my brother cleans his... well isn't that the stupidest thing. I cleaned my room up on my own will power. I'm trying to figure out what to do without a piece of shelving that I'm taking to college. So lets make your child who just had dental work done do this. Makes perfect sense. This is not working. Okay so it is half working seeing as I'm sorta getting something resembling work done. Tomorrow I'll post one of the favorite poems I've written.