I only replaced my addiction with the doge version of 2048. I couldn’t even manage to read the entire first chapter of the Hillier (just so youz guyz know, I’m trying to complete a research paper and felt like a good incentive was to not be able to use Facebook until the first draft was complete).
Anyway, there’s a lot of tumbleweed on this island.
I cannot deprive myself of an outlet that enables me to record my endless stream of inconsequential bullshit but I believe I am brilliant and must record these “clever” things I have running through my mind. Thank god for internet blogs. They will remind me of why I did not pursue a career in writing.
Throwback Thursdays have me feeling nostalgic for my early 20s but I never like what I find when I start heading back that way. Take for instance, my old Angelfire website. It’s still up and if you are intrepid enough, you can discover really awful (and I do mean AWFUL) journal entries, poetry and photographs.
I haven’t been making any tumblr posts recently. I’m trying to save you all from reading mushy crap about being in love because I am acutely aware that no one wants to read platitudes about how happy some simpering, priggish schmuck is.
So let’s just talk about Red Pandas!
It was International Red Panda Day five days ago and I was a little sad to learn that the San Francisco Zoo did not house a single red panda. NOT A ONE. Oh, well. Ailurus fulgens is a tree-dwelling mammal that you can find in the temperate forests of the Himilayas. There has been controversy on that classification of Red Pandas since their discovery but thanks to recent molecular-systematic DNA, they have been given their own category, Ailuridae, that is placed under the superfamily of Musteloidea which includes racoons, skunks and weasels.
Red pandas are nocturnal and/or crepescular. They spend most of their days sleeping or lazing about in trees. The cutest position is when they dangle their limbs when it’s too hot to curl up against a tree branch or hollow.
Laying in darkness I wish for my brain to die but it rebels And I shift around in my own little madness which feeds itself on frustration so the glow of the monitor again fills the room, to quiet the frantic voices, and it casts weird shadows against my lamp and luggage (the only objects in my possession) and after a futile while my eyes water from strain unable to droop, drop or dim and I type this into my blog because I think you care I think you care about my ridiculous Rollins-y rhetoric I think you care about my admirable adroit alliteration abilities Baby, I hope you end up reading this. My go-to insomnia killer has been ruined forever because of you. Benadryl. Ayùdame.