well, I had an interesting little happening last night. I was standing on the couch in my basement testing, in the stereo above my tv, a Captain Beefheart cd I had just burned from computer-downloaded files. the cd played flawlessly, except for track 20 and I was very happy about having burned, more or less for free, lots of rare songs which it would have otherwise taken me very long to've gotten my hands on. so, after I finished playing the cd, I was so energetic that I jumped up off the couch to leave the room...except the next thing I knew I was crouching on the floor, clutching my head and feeling as if someone had just hit me square atop the noggin with a baseball bat.
What I had not realized when I jumped up was that the ceiling had a low overhang with a sharp edge in precisely the place where my head had made its joyous ascent. naturally, I banged my head on the corner of this albatross of ingenuous architectural innovation which now overbearingly imposed itself not only upon my basement ceiling but also upon my physical well-being making, henceforth, quite the ingénue out of me. the funny thing was that the whole occurence didn't even feel like it had actually happened; except for the momentary experience of having had a brick dropped on my crown and the blood that I saw on my fingers after I pulled them away from the top of my head, I was as if 'out-of-body'â€â€no pain persisted. nonetheless, despite it being almost 3 a.m., I went to wake my gf for help, since I was still in slight physical and rather extreme emotional distress. she patched me up on the kitchen counter while I cried my eyes out for what reason I'm not quite certain. it felt good to have a reason to cry though,:oops: I guess...it made me realize I've just been feeling too sorry for myself lately. the wound stopped its minimal bleeding after about a half hour and my gf said she didn't think it needed stitches; so, after thoroughly cleaning the wound, she tied a bonnet-like, yellow piece of medical tape around the top of my head and my chin, gave me some asprin, and sent me to bed.
I awoke at about noon to her swabbing my wound again as my head lay on the pillow; she wrapped me with my yellow bonnet again and let me sleep about three more hours. in an interview I listened to recently, Don Van Vliet (Beefheart) said yellow is the colour of wisdom. my step-mom said it's the colour of friendship. both seem to have significance in my life right now since I practically don't have any friends and I'm constantly given to my alternative of reading enormous sums about how the world works. whatever its significance, I intend to wear my yellow bonnet, however ridiculous looking, to school the rest of the week.(Don't hate, it's pimp). I figure I'll probably be the low-light in my get-up on campus and I don't feel like taking it off to take a shower. plus it's kinda fascinating, I took pictures of myself in it after I woke up. Things work in mysterious ways--in my life no doubt...even while I can only hope to work in ridiculous ones sometimes.
That better guys?
:wink:
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