X-treme · Nihilism

I took a girl out for the second time last night; I really like this girl.
Tonight the girl says she thinks I have Asperger's.
I have lost any idea of what to say.

You know what I enjoy? The red and blush of the face after a much enjoyed kiss. How the skin is calm and you can feel of the world.

We are impossible people.
The possible people have no concept of how we can be. We have no concept of how we can't.

A girl is at work and can't speak on the phone. I ask her out via text instead. Several of the key sequences' in the text played out "Ode To Joy."
The end

I went to a party nights ago. My first, really.
It was joyful, taking in the company- more than I've ever known before. It was painful there was so much. I think it was a lot like appendicitis- at least, what I've read about appendicitis. A terrible pain that I couldn't sit with or anything with, but I smiled without medical aid because I hoped to die in the closeness of friends.
But that ended, as everything must.

I would give any love for your love. Even none at all.

The cutest thing is a girl selling her soul for the ability to open a jar of applesauce.

He owned a heating lamp and ultraviolet light. At night it would glow past the window and give a shadow of activity. Now that he's gone there is no use turning them on.
I opened my door and saw how black it is in here. It is empty and there is no where to reach for. I can't even see until my eyes adjust from the sudden change from light to dark.

Fafnir died today.

Today I was served by a woman with a limp. I wondered why she didn't fill my cup completely, and then saw that, since the lids were far away, if she filled the cup her gait would upset the drink.
Eating, a boy and a girl walked by. They were holding hands in a warm manner and I smiled. The girl teetered close to his face, filling her lips with red; the boy looked away. I frowned.

I am writing a program for homework. It takes in three user generated strings and then prints them out with three constant strings, using the same method (separate class) for both.
When testing, I typed in "ball" for the hell of it. It printed out "blue" instead. When I type in "once," it prints the constants twice, rather than the once expected. And only in those cases.
Since I wrote the program and am intensely aware of what is in it, I am left with the conclusion that my computer is possessed. That is the only possibility in this situation.

Scratch that: her house burned down.

This coming weekend I am taking a girl out of state to dig for gems, wander a couple abandoned houses, etc.
We will be driving with our windows down and wearing beanie caps (with propellers) the way. I am not sure how I feel about that.

I would like to get allergies. Like, you collect them as you go. Everyday would be a fresh adventure in carefulness. "Today I'm now allergic to bees. Today it's their honey..." Or maybe it's a very specific curse: "Today I'm now allergic to bees who know how to hoola hoop. Today it's their honey that's been stepped in exactly five times."
Either way, it will eventually eliminate a great many things, things that you can no longer love or see or think about because you are deathly allergic. But this brings you closer to things you're not allergic to. You are forced to give the love you had for thing 1 to thing 2, or else not love at all. You might give love to something you already love and doubly need it. Or triply or quadruply. And everything intensifies until you are down to one thing that will not harm you, one last thing to love. And that last thing is life and you love it so and then you wake in the morning and die. And I am jealous of your great love of life.

I miss you.
I am looking at your drawings and I miss you.

I would do without sleep or life: one dilutes the other.
In life I know control when dream wrests it from me and pays me in adventure and nonsense. The light murders that world, and I awake to the necessity of breathing.

We run the night's heat and glimmer as the shadows turn to kissing.
And rest.
Our smokey lives rise at dawn, billowing a bloody light eight-minutes old.