I'm so almost done, I can almost taste it, except that's probably actually just the Milkway chocolate-y goodness that I ate, but the end of the school year probably tastes the same way.
Anyway, I still have a philosophy reading/debate/paper to write, and also a Spanish final that I really should study for, but no one actually taught me how to study so that's out of the question, and also a linguistics take home final/paper to do. And I still have to clean things. I hate cleaning. But what I'm here to talk about today, while I'm procrastinating like a crazy person, is philosophy.
I don't understand why philosophers have to write like the goal is to get as few ideas across as possible in the most pages as possible. Especially modern day philosophers. Like, I maybe understand (not really) why people from the 12th century write word upon word upon word of the exact same thing, and I also acknowledge that most of these are originally written in Japanese, and so it could be lost in translation, but if you're writing in 1995, like my current philosopher, maybe you could speed it up a little bit? This is the age of technological freedom and not spending more than five minutes reading a thing lest you bore yourself to tears! Get with the program, um, Merold!
His name is Merold Westphal. Let me know if you know what he's trying to say about religion and postmodernism.
I guess there's probably a reason I'm not going to be a philosopher. I do like thinking about things and concepts and ideas, especially when I can understand them, but I do not think I could spend my life writing and analyzing texts about life. So I give lots and lots of credit to those people who can.
Anyway, when you start out reading a philosophical text, you should always have your highlighter handy. Because if highlighting passages doesn't make you feel like you're making progress, nothing else will. Be careful, though, because unless you have one of those fancy highlighters with the clear tip, you might accidentally highlight too much and then you'll wonder what you've done to deserve such anger.
Also, highlighter related, you should probably actually read the entire thing you're highlighting and decide where to stop. Because I just did this: I was highlighting a sentence that was seemingly very relevant to my thoughts, but I didn't read the whole sentence, and I was highlighting, but all of a sudden, the information wasn't important any more, but I had already colored half of it bright neon yellow and how could I stop now, in the middle of a sentence, because either it would look horrible, or the last half of the sentence would think I didn't love it and I would be the creator of a huge familiar tragedy! So I highlighted the entire ginormous paragraph and it's not even important. Snerbs.
I also advise that you, once you've read the first couple of pages, go to the last page and read the essay backwards. Because the last paragraph actually has some important summarizing information in it. And, writers, tell me this: Why don't you put the essential informative summaries AT THE BEGINNING of the text? Is it because you hate me? I could have saved myself half an hour of trying to figure out your argument on the first page if I had know you put the important stuff at the end! I don't understand your irrational abhorrence of clarity.
But, you really do need to start at the beginning. Because then, at least you've tried. Effort is 93.7% of the battle. I calculated that. In my head. Because I'm a math major.
Monday, May 18, 2015
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
How To: An Ode. In the form of prose. To fruit. That has been dehydrated.
Oh, my strange kiwi that I just discovered the beauty of today. If I was about grammar, that sentence would have been "Oh, my strange kiwi the beauty of which I just discovered today" but I'm not about grammar. I'm giving up on that. I give up on everything except dehydrated fruit and acoustic covers of pop songs.
And gummy bears.
Only because I just bought some today, along with my dehydrated fruit, because I have lots of money, but don't worry, guys, I'm down to less than $300 now, but just barely. Plus, both of those things feel healthy because they don't contain chocolate.
But really, though. Who invented kiwi that could have all the liquid SUCKED OUT OF ITS SPINE, because it's delicious. The worst part is that the bag only comes with three pieces. Maybe I'll buy the store out of all its mal-thirsted fruits. Because I have $292.94 to spend on food in a week.
As I sat in wonder of this strangely addictive fruit substances, I wondered why all the fruits were kinda squishy (that's a technical business term, guys, don't hurt yourselves) except for the bananas. Do the bananas get a special process, or something? Why are they not squishy? They're like little banana chips. Crisp and crunchy, just as bananas should be. Of course.
BUT DO YOU KNOW WHAT THEY DID THEY PUT THE MOST TERRIFYING THING IN THE FRUIT OF DEHYDRATION BAG BECAUSE IT LOOKS GREAT AND TASTY AND ORANGE (because everyone knows that orange is a delicious color) BUT IT'S ACTUALLY TERRIBLE AND GROSS AND PROBABLY KILLED A PERSON IN A PAST LIFE.
Even though people can't reincarnate as inanimate objects, they can reincarnate as TREES which give off fruit. I can't even tell what fruit it was supposed to be back before it turned evil. Probably sulfur. The ingredients say sulfur, and I bet the maker accidentally dehydrated just some sulfur and put it in the bag with the delightfulness.
The lovely pineapple is also great. It's probably my second favorite after the kiwis and the bananas. No, I'm not wrong. Stop yelling. I don't like yelling. I don't even like things. I just live here. But only for another week. Please make it go faster. I beg to the [insert non-offensive term for whatever you believe in].
My friends all got together and took pictures together and my dad told me that it's not like they're going to spend three weeks together and forget about me but my insecurities are feeling angry this evening so I'm trying really hard to not let it bother me but it's hard because it is.
There's also a different weird orange fruit thing that's pretty delicious, unlike the EVIL. But unfortunately I can't tell the difference between the two different kinds so it's a game of chance. I'll be thinking I'm safe, but then I DIE but not really that's an exaggeration.
Also, there's a starfruit, and it basically looks like I'm going to eat a starfish, and I'm kind of afraid that it'll actually be the texture of a starfish, so I'm putting off eating it because I'm like the cowardly lion, except occasionally I have good hair days.
Okay, here's the actual ode (except not in the form of an ode, because that's hard and a lot of work):
Oh fruit
So sparkle
So chewy chewy chewy
Except for banana
Why have you no juice left?
Because you might
GET THIRSTY
and/or get a head ache
Because water is important
And hydration is essential
Oh fruit
So sad
So thirsty thirsty thirsty
Why have you to die?
Because you might
BE EATEN
by me
Because yum yum yum
Yum yum yum yum yum
How was that? I should be done now. But really, why should I give up on genius? I know! We'll make it a system: you pay me money and I'll write an ode just for you and it'll go on my blog. And all the people can read it. Just kidding. You don't have to pay me money. I'll do it for free. You just have to request one, and it will be great. And I promise to make it great. Greatness is my guarantee! I'll eagerly await your call.
(No, really, I'll write you an ode if you ask me to. Do it.)
And gummy bears.
Only because I just bought some today, along with my dehydrated fruit, because I have lots of money, but don't worry, guys, I'm down to less than $300 now, but just barely. Plus, both of those things feel healthy because they don't contain chocolate.
But really, though. Who invented kiwi that could have all the liquid SUCKED OUT OF ITS SPINE, because it's delicious. The worst part is that the bag only comes with three pieces. Maybe I'll buy the store out of all its mal-thirsted fruits. Because I have $292.94 to spend on food in a week.
As I sat in wonder of this strangely addictive fruit substances, I wondered why all the fruits were kinda squishy (that's a technical business term, guys, don't hurt yourselves) except for the bananas. Do the bananas get a special process, or something? Why are they not squishy? They're like little banana chips. Crisp and crunchy, just as bananas should be. Of course.
BUT DO YOU KNOW WHAT THEY DID THEY PUT THE MOST TERRIFYING THING IN THE FRUIT OF DEHYDRATION BAG BECAUSE IT LOOKS GREAT AND TASTY AND ORANGE (because everyone knows that orange is a delicious color) BUT IT'S ACTUALLY TERRIBLE AND GROSS AND PROBABLY KILLED A PERSON IN A PAST LIFE.
Even though people can't reincarnate as inanimate objects, they can reincarnate as TREES which give off fruit. I can't even tell what fruit it was supposed to be back before it turned evil. Probably sulfur. The ingredients say sulfur, and I bet the maker accidentally dehydrated just some sulfur and put it in the bag with the delightfulness.
The lovely pineapple is also great. It's probably my second favorite after the kiwis and the bananas. No, I'm not wrong. Stop yelling. I don't like yelling. I don't even like things. I just live here. But only for another week. Please make it go faster. I beg to the [insert non-offensive term for whatever you believe in].
My friends all got together and took pictures together and my dad told me that it's not like they're going to spend three weeks together and forget about me but my insecurities are feeling angry this evening so I'm trying really hard to not let it bother me but it's hard because it is.
There's also a different weird orange fruit thing that's pretty delicious, unlike the EVIL. But unfortunately I can't tell the difference between the two different kinds so it's a game of chance. I'll be thinking I'm safe, but then I DIE but not really that's an exaggeration.
Also, there's a starfruit, and it basically looks like I'm going to eat a starfish, and I'm kind of afraid that it'll actually be the texture of a starfish, so I'm putting off eating it because I'm like the cowardly lion, except occasionally I have good hair days.
Okay, here's the actual ode (except not in the form of an ode, because that's hard and a lot of work):
Oh fruit
So sparkle
So chewy chewy chewy
Except for banana
Why have you no juice left?
Because you might
GET THIRSTY
and/or get a head ache
Because water is important
And hydration is essential
Oh fruit
So sad
So thirsty thirsty thirsty
Why have you to die?
Because you might
BE EATEN
by me
Because yum yum yum
Yum yum yum yum yum
How was that? I should be done now. But really, why should I give up on genius? I know! We'll make it a system: you pay me money and I'll write an ode just for you and it'll go on my blog. And all the people can read it. Just kidding. You don't have to pay me money. I'll do it for free. You just have to request one, and it will be great. And I promise to make it great. Greatness is my guarantee! I'll eagerly await your call.
(No, really, I'll write you an ode if you ask me to. Do it.)
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
A Journey
I have a ginormous head ache. It's pretty great. I'm also really bored and should be doing things besides writing this (which seems to be a common theme among the beginnings of my posts) but too bad. So I'm just going to write and see where this goes.
The sunset outside my window is pretty incredible right now. It's mostly orange surrounded by some dark gray-ish purple and them some yellow clouds overhead. I don't know what I did to deserve this view, but maybe I was a good child in some universe.
There was once a child who tried to be a good kid, but everything he did was entirely wrong, because people just didn't understand what he was trying to do. They said, "No, no kid. That's not how good people behave, why aren't you doing the right thing?" But they just didn't understand. Because somehow the "right thing" became a social norm in which trying to ignore all the problems of the world was good. The kid didn't want to ignore the problems, so he tried his gosh darn hardest to fix them all one by one. Soon, though, the kid realized that his futile efforts were being wasted, because no one else could understand what he did. They shunned him, they exiled him, and the kid grew up on an island all alone.
I wore a dress today, because dresses and nice clothes are supposed to make you feel good about yourself. But it's kind of weird when people who normally mostly just ignore you randomly come up to you and say, "Wow! You look so nice today!" I know it's supposed to seem like a compliment, but it kind of just makes me feel like they usually think I look like a hobo. But I also don't care. I like how I look. I also went to dinner today wearing my dress, because I was too lazy to change, and tennis shoes, because my feet hurt from wearing nice shoes all day, and an old high school jacket, because it was raining and I needed pockets. And I didn't even care that people probably thought I was a super weirdie. So that's a plus on the self-esteem side of things.
But his island was the best place on earth. There was no hunger or pain or danger or hatred or indifference. There was only the kid and his pets and his love of the world. Soon, though, the kid was lonely, and he missed his abilities to help people. He felt the poorness of the world growing and knew there was nothing he could do because he was stuck on the island.
I should draw more. I don't even like drawing. I like doodling though, which is like the baby version of doodling. It's pretty great, even though I hate it when my notebooks are filled with random scribbles. I need a special notebook that I can just doodle in. And I need colorful pens to make everything more colorful. If someone wanted to get me those for my birthday, that would be pretty great.
He decided that he would use his new found magical powers to transport his island to a place where people didn't take helping others for granted. He waved his unicorn's horn above the island and the magic filled the air, swirling and dancing above the lush purple leaves of the Jenaple trees. The island took off from the water as if it were a helicopter. All the people who had exiled the kid stared in wonder and awe as the inexplicable kid flew his paradise to a new land.
Do you know what I'm about? I'll tell you. I'm about happiness and if not that then contentedness. I'm about tolerance. I'm about playing with children and making sure my brothers always think I'm weird, even if I don't talk to them everyday. I'm about thinking about things. I'm about worrying about things that won't matter a year from now. I'm about Spanish. I'm about figuring out how to tell people I love them, even if it's scary. I'm about grammar. I'm about learning and teaching and helping. I'm about working hard but making sure it's fun to sit still. I'm about music and wonder. I'm about toast (occasionally) and butter. I'm about judging in a completely not judgmental way. I'm about forgiveness and remembering. I'm about keeping the best friends I have. I'm about magic. Mostly about magic.
They begged and pleaded and screamed and cried for him to land his island. They wanted to share his magic, they finally understood what he meant by trying to be good. But the kid just shook his head sadly. He knew they would never be able to fully appreciate his magic and his words, because they had not yet lost their most fatal flaw. He almost took pity on the people, but there was nothing he would ever be able to do for them. He knew they had to come to the understanding, not through a magic which certainly could have cured their shallowness, but through their own suffering.
I think I've lost a lot of my clothes since coming to college eight-ish months ago. I was looking for shorts to change into, when I, you know, finally decided that sitting in a dress wasn't comfortable enough, but I could not find them. I know I brought like three pairs to school, and I could not find a single one and I was about to start dying, but then it turns out they were hiding at the front of my drawer. Which makes no sense, because I haven't worn shorts for a bunch of months, so why would they be at the front, riddle me this, Joker??
As he left the farthest corner of the land, he heard the faintest cry, the words of a little girl. She said, "Kid, I'll never stop looking for you." He peered over the edge of his island, and the girl, holding a tiny green balloon, missing all but her two front teeth, waved a tiny hand. "Kid, I'll never not believe in the goodness," she said. And he smiled back at her, revealing a grin of only two front teeth.
I wish I liked singing and dancing in front of other people. That would make life a lot more easier/funner maybe. Maybe people would think I like having fun! Maybe you don't need to sing and dance to have fun. Maybe that's a culturally perpetuated stereotype that we should be breaking down through sociology. Maybe I should be praised for my timidness.
He was not a kid anymore. He knew the world he was leaving would be safe in the new kid's hands.
You're the new kid.
The sunset outside my window is pretty incredible right now. It's mostly orange surrounded by some dark gray-ish purple and them some yellow clouds overhead. I don't know what I did to deserve this view, but maybe I was a good child in some universe.
There was once a child who tried to be a good kid, but everything he did was entirely wrong, because people just didn't understand what he was trying to do. They said, "No, no kid. That's not how good people behave, why aren't you doing the right thing?" But they just didn't understand. Because somehow the "right thing" became a social norm in which trying to ignore all the problems of the world was good. The kid didn't want to ignore the problems, so he tried his gosh darn hardest to fix them all one by one. Soon, though, the kid realized that his futile efforts were being wasted, because no one else could understand what he did. They shunned him, they exiled him, and the kid grew up on an island all alone.
I wore a dress today, because dresses and nice clothes are supposed to make you feel good about yourself. But it's kind of weird when people who normally mostly just ignore you randomly come up to you and say, "Wow! You look so nice today!" I know it's supposed to seem like a compliment, but it kind of just makes me feel like they usually think I look like a hobo. But I also don't care. I like how I look. I also went to dinner today wearing my dress, because I was too lazy to change, and tennis shoes, because my feet hurt from wearing nice shoes all day, and an old high school jacket, because it was raining and I needed pockets. And I didn't even care that people probably thought I was a super weirdie. So that's a plus on the self-esteem side of things.
But his island was the best place on earth. There was no hunger or pain or danger or hatred or indifference. There was only the kid and his pets and his love of the world. Soon, though, the kid was lonely, and he missed his abilities to help people. He felt the poorness of the world growing and knew there was nothing he could do because he was stuck on the island.
I should draw more. I don't even like drawing. I like doodling though, which is like the baby version of doodling. It's pretty great, even though I hate it when my notebooks are filled with random scribbles. I need a special notebook that I can just doodle in. And I need colorful pens to make everything more colorful. If someone wanted to get me those for my birthday, that would be pretty great.
He decided that he would use his new found magical powers to transport his island to a place where people didn't take helping others for granted. He waved his unicorn's horn above the island and the magic filled the air, swirling and dancing above the lush purple leaves of the Jenaple trees. The island took off from the water as if it were a helicopter. All the people who had exiled the kid stared in wonder and awe as the inexplicable kid flew his paradise to a new land.
Do you know what I'm about? I'll tell you. I'm about happiness and if not that then contentedness. I'm about tolerance. I'm about playing with children and making sure my brothers always think I'm weird, even if I don't talk to them everyday. I'm about thinking about things. I'm about worrying about things that won't matter a year from now. I'm about Spanish. I'm about figuring out how to tell people I love them, even if it's scary. I'm about grammar. I'm about learning and teaching and helping. I'm about working hard but making sure it's fun to sit still. I'm about music and wonder. I'm about toast (occasionally) and butter. I'm about judging in a completely not judgmental way. I'm about forgiveness and remembering. I'm about keeping the best friends I have. I'm about magic. Mostly about magic.
They begged and pleaded and screamed and cried for him to land his island. They wanted to share his magic, they finally understood what he meant by trying to be good. But the kid just shook his head sadly. He knew they would never be able to fully appreciate his magic and his words, because they had not yet lost their most fatal flaw. He almost took pity on the people, but there was nothing he would ever be able to do for them. He knew they had to come to the understanding, not through a magic which certainly could have cured their shallowness, but through their own suffering.
I think I've lost a lot of my clothes since coming to college eight-ish months ago. I was looking for shorts to change into, when I, you know, finally decided that sitting in a dress wasn't comfortable enough, but I could not find them. I know I brought like three pairs to school, and I could not find a single one and I was about to start dying, but then it turns out they were hiding at the front of my drawer. Which makes no sense, because I haven't worn shorts for a bunch of months, so why would they be at the front, riddle me this, Joker??
As he left the farthest corner of the land, he heard the faintest cry, the words of a little girl. She said, "Kid, I'll never stop looking for you." He peered over the edge of his island, and the girl, holding a tiny green balloon, missing all but her two front teeth, waved a tiny hand. "Kid, I'll never not believe in the goodness," she said. And he smiled back at her, revealing a grin of only two front teeth.
I wish I liked singing and dancing in front of other people. That would make life a lot more easier/funner maybe. Maybe people would think I like having fun! Maybe you don't need to sing and dance to have fun. Maybe that's a culturally perpetuated stereotype that we should be breaking down through sociology. Maybe I should be praised for my timidness.
He was not a kid anymore. He knew the world he was leaving would be safe in the new kid's hands.
You're the new kid.
Friday, May 1, 2015
How To: Surrealism
It's been a very strange week this week. For example, I thought that I had written a post just, like, yesterday. But it turns out that it was actually sixteen days ago. The fact that sixteen days ago feels like yesterday begins to concern me.
So, I shall now tell you how to deal with some of the surreal situations you might encounter. Please do exactly as I say, no more no less, lest you die. On the scale of things that are bad that can happen to you, dying is at the tippy-top.
Perhaps you have entered the kitchen of your college or university, and perhaps you see, so nicely, placed upon a tray, two legs. Yes. Legs. And they're probably, like, legs of lamb, or something that someone was once planning on cooking and serving to the unsuspecting students, but for right now, they sit, staring at you, whispering, "Why can we no longer walk, Jen? What has happened to us?" And you just don't even know what's going on, because they've been there for like three hours. To solve this problem, I recommend ignorance. Yes. Simply don't look at them, ever. Ever ever ever. Pretend like they don't exist. The end.
And let me introduce you to another scenario. Pretend you have always worked with a person, and you've always assumed her name is Joyce. Joyce, however, occasionally wears the name tag of Denise. But you know she is Joyce just the same. And so one day you go to work and say hi to Joyce as she passes you by, and as you round the corner, THERE JOYCE STANDS ONCE AGAIN. But you swear you just passed her, and you look back and indeed, Joyce is on the other side of the wall, but Joyce is also in front of you looking at you strangely, as if she knows that you've just discovered her secret. But the Joyce in front of you has "Denise" pinned upon her shirt. And it occurs to you that there must be two of them. That in fact one Joyce must be named Denise, and they just look exactly the same. To solve this problem, I recommend ignorance. Yes. Simply don't look at them, ever. Ever ever ever. Pretend like they don't exist. The end.
Now pretend that you knew a person. And you really liked and respected this person, and they were a pretty great friend, and you liked to help them and talk to them and do the things with them. But all of a sudden, they began doing the not things. They began earning your disrespect and you find yourself at odds, because parts of you still think they're worth it, but most of you knows that they're just going to be pulling you down into the quicksand of pain and worry and you should just let them go, because the things they do, they're just not worth your brain and heart power. And you feel sad. To solve this problem, I recommend ignorance. Yes. Simply don't look at them, ever. Ever ever ever. Pretend like they don't exist. The end.
On to less scary things, children of mine.
Pretend like you were taking a shower, and you brought your clothes with you, because you're not about wandering around the hallway mostly naked except for a towel. But then pretend, all of a sudden there are five people waiting in line for the shower, and you definitely should hurry the heck up. So you finish and you try and bolt out of there as fast as you can, except you're mostly freaking out about having no clothes on. And people think you're weird and you can't handle your brain. To solve this problem, I recommend wearing clothes all the time. Even while showering.
Pretend your favorite chef has just yelled your name. Pretend that she wants help removing some of the pans that she has just taken from the pan rack, because they have holes in them to, you know, help drain water and things from them. But she doesn't want them. "I don't want the holey ones, Jen. I can't cook bacon on the holey ones!" And then she leaves and you have no idea what happened. To solve this problem, I recommend laughter. Laughter is the only thing you can do in these situations. Holey trays filled with bacon.
Pretend you had such a lovely week and that none of these strange things happened to you. Because they all happened to me, and them happening to just one person is enough for the entire world. Don't forget to not die. I'm opposed to dying! And I'm opposed to you dying! So there! Camilo Canegato would be proud of you. Just kidding. He basically killed someone. Yet another surreal experience! Poor Camilo, je je.
So, I shall now tell you how to deal with some of the surreal situations you might encounter. Please do exactly as I say, no more no less, lest you die. On the scale of things that are bad that can happen to you, dying is at the tippy-top.
Perhaps you have entered the kitchen of your college or university, and perhaps you see, so nicely, placed upon a tray, two legs. Yes. Legs. And they're probably, like, legs of lamb, or something that someone was once planning on cooking and serving to the unsuspecting students, but for right now, they sit, staring at you, whispering, "Why can we no longer walk, Jen? What has happened to us?" And you just don't even know what's going on, because they've been there for like three hours. To solve this problem, I recommend ignorance. Yes. Simply don't look at them, ever. Ever ever ever. Pretend like they don't exist. The end.
And let me introduce you to another scenario. Pretend you have always worked with a person, and you've always assumed her name is Joyce. Joyce, however, occasionally wears the name tag of Denise. But you know she is Joyce just the same. And so one day you go to work and say hi to Joyce as she passes you by, and as you round the corner, THERE JOYCE STANDS ONCE AGAIN. But you swear you just passed her, and you look back and indeed, Joyce is on the other side of the wall, but Joyce is also in front of you looking at you strangely, as if she knows that you've just discovered her secret. But the Joyce in front of you has "Denise" pinned upon her shirt. And it occurs to you that there must be two of them. That in fact one Joyce must be named Denise, and they just look exactly the same. To solve this problem, I recommend ignorance. Yes. Simply don't look at them, ever. Ever ever ever. Pretend like they don't exist. The end.
Now pretend that you knew a person. And you really liked and respected this person, and they were a pretty great friend, and you liked to help them and talk to them and do the things with them. But all of a sudden, they began doing the not things. They began earning your disrespect and you find yourself at odds, because parts of you still think they're worth it, but most of you knows that they're just going to be pulling you down into the quicksand of pain and worry and you should just let them go, because the things they do, they're just not worth your brain and heart power. And you feel sad. To solve this problem, I recommend ignorance. Yes. Simply don't look at them, ever. Ever ever ever. Pretend like they don't exist. The end.
On to less scary things, children of mine.
Pretend like you were taking a shower, and you brought your clothes with you, because you're not about wandering around the hallway mostly naked except for a towel. But then pretend, all of a sudden there are five people waiting in line for the shower, and you definitely should hurry the heck up. So you finish and you try and bolt out of there as fast as you can, except you're mostly freaking out about having no clothes on. And people think you're weird and you can't handle your brain. To solve this problem, I recommend wearing clothes all the time. Even while showering.
Pretend your favorite chef has just yelled your name. Pretend that she wants help removing some of the pans that she has just taken from the pan rack, because they have holes in them to, you know, help drain water and things from them. But she doesn't want them. "I don't want the holey ones, Jen. I can't cook bacon on the holey ones!" And then she leaves and you have no idea what happened. To solve this problem, I recommend laughter. Laughter is the only thing you can do in these situations. Holey trays filled with bacon.
Pretend you had such a lovely week and that none of these strange things happened to you. Because they all happened to me, and them happening to just one person is enough for the entire world. Don't forget to not die. I'm opposed to dying! And I'm opposed to you dying! So there! Camilo Canegato would be proud of you. Just kidding. He basically killed someone. Yet another surreal experience! Poor Camilo, je je.
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