1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 4 sentences on your LJ along with these instructions.
5. Don't you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.

"They think the sequence is, first object, then belief.  In fact, it works the other way.
Belief sloshes aound in the firmament like lumps of clay spiraling into a potter's wheel. That's how gods get created, for example.  They clearly must be created by their own believes, because a brief resume of the lives of most gods suggests that their origins certainly couldn't be divine."

I think the next sentence deserves including, too: "They tend to do exactly the things people would do if only they could, especially when it comes to nymphs, golden showers, and the smiting of your enemies."

The sad thing is, there were five books equally close, and I just grabbed one and came up with Reaper Man. It coulda been Sophie's World, Kafka, Waiting for Godot, or Men at Arms.  Or any one of about ten others... I have too many book lying on/around my bed.  Funny, though, that the book I picked up actually IS cool and intellectual, and possibly the most beautiful and philosophical of all the Discworld books. I mean, there are funnier or sweeter or even more enjoyable ones in the series, but... this one's my favorite. It's got beauty and grief of a kind unmatched, even in Soul Music.  After all... how often must Death learn to die?

That's why I love Sandman so much.  She understands that concept.  And why I love Discworld. He learns it.

...I'm listening for wings. 

EDIT: My father is bloody insane.

 "Name three fics you think I will never, ever, ever write. In return(and if inspired), I will attempt to write a snippet of one of them.

Please note that "if inspired" bit. And snippet? As in really really short. Because if you think I'll never ever write them (though I'm intrigued to find out what they might be) - there's probably a damn good reason."

Stolen from Evie. 'Cause I felt like it. Not that it's a deal, but hey, thought it might be a reason to post.

Uhm. Shit happened. *Shrug* Whatever.

I <3 Morpheus. That's all.

*Sighs*

No. I'm not turning into House, unless House is really that emotionally tortured. Which I guess he IS, but... he doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve. That's my schtick.

(I've been doing a lot of... markedly Jewish or Hispanic things lately. It's odd.)

But... Just... had a moment. A can't think, can't breathe, can't live sort of moment.  And it's still hurting, y'know? That little knot inside my chest. Oh, nothing medical. I'm healthy enough. Not counting sleep deprivation and acne and bad eating habits.

But y'know... that knowledge.  Knowing when you can't go back.  That's what my school is so oblivious to, I think.  I knew when Grayson died that something had changed. That I couldn't go back, because a little boy had taken his own life and he was so damn close, and it was so damn close and I felt at the time like I wanted to die. On and off. But I remember hating my life at the time. And I still do. Hate it. But... I knew the day that Grayson died that something wasn't the same. I wouldn't've picked up Sandman before that. Even though it had been recommended to me a year before, even. And again just before summer.  I picked it up because I knew something had changed and I needed a way to see what that something was.

I needed a map for Destiny's garden.

And I knew something had changed when Jared died. Those boys still haunt me.  And I live every day now with a sense of "Who will it be next? Who is the next of my small, confined world to return to dust and empty space and be nothing more than a swiftly-forgotten dream in memories?"

(I was looking at my post from the day of the memorial. I said "This is your life." Death of Discworld said that, although it was in past tense. And Death of the Endless, I think, says something similar. "You got what everyone gets--a lifetime.")

I'd forgotten you don't need to die to go away.  Like Lexi. She and I have nothing in common now.  Like... like Marlee and Eric from my toddlerhood (my then-best friend who is a first class bitch JAP--Jewish-American Princess--and my then-crush who, while actually GORGEOUS now, is stupid beyond reason).  Like... like Tess. I love her, and she's still my heartsister.  But... we've drifted somewhat, and things aren't quite what they were. We're still unquestioningly devoted to each other. But we're necessarily more distant.  I wonder if that's how it was for Dream and Death after Daniel took over.

...I felt useless today. Worthless.  And yesterday. And every day. I'm failing miserably. I should be fucking everything.  I'm smart and I'm talented and I honestly love learning, and I'm even a little pretty when my acne's not bad. I should be into college, I should be top of my class, ahead on my homework, healthy and keeping up with life... and instead I'm a lazy lethargic bum. *Sighs* There's a reason I'm writing what I'm writing. The hero who can't quite make the status quo. To use Garion's terms, the rock that gets thrown... and sort of doesn't even last five seconds before thumping back to earth, without fanfare, just a quiet, wet little thud.  I hate it. I hate letting my parents down, I hate being the way I am.  But I really don't have much choice, do I? So I have to live with it, because I'm damn well not going to be dead with it. And I don't know just where I went wrong.

And why I can't deal with people, so that I keep trying to talk to people I have nothing in common with and being hurt when people I thought I could love and respect don't. It's happened... too often, I guess.  Price of empathy, I suppose.

Just had one of those... Joycian epiphany moments.  Where I went "...Shit."  And wanted to curl up and die.

Cordy's right. Being alone with others beats being alone by yourself.

But I don't really have that choice.

...At least I'm flying free?... 

EDIT: ...And my entire life is ameliorated in a tiny, tiny way by a realization that I might be able to snitch a now-useless old piece of writing as the opening of Shattered!verse. Thank Eru. I really liked that piece.

*Snickers* House, to Wilson, in the preview for next episode (which is TUESDAY WHOOT!)  See, they ARE gay together!

Anyway. The point of this post: (WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD FOR WILSON'S LOVE LIFE!)

*I'm watching House with m'dad.  I see Wilson's girlfriend*
Dad: Whoa.
Me: ... *Jawdrop* Cutthroat bitch?!
House: ... *Jawdrop* Cutthroat bitch?!
Me: *SHRIEKS*
Dad: *Cracks up*

It is official.  I am turning into House.

...Okay, so I just told Caroline this. And she goes "Ouch." Me: "...It's not bad! He's genius! ...Okay, is it bad that I don't think turning into Greg House is a bad thing?"

Apparently it is.

I don't even care that it's a bad thing.  My god, I really AM turning into him. *Dead*

...In other news, despite my general dislike of LJ RPs and fandom RPs... I lurves my Mendanbar and my Dream. And I may have exactly one chance to grab 'em. And I've TOTALLY got a Dream in my head ANYWAY--he and Tyroshaun are always hanging out and being depressively, nobly, tragically heroic together. *Eyeroll* Boys.

Odd, that. I want basically my newest and oldest fandoms. Huh. Very strange. ...And the two tall, slender, dark-haired men. ...So I'm predictable, so shoot me.

...I just realized Mendanbar has grey eyes, and that was one of the things I loved about him. At the age of eleven. ...I have no further commentary to make. Because really, there's nothing to say.

ALSO! OHMIGODHOUSEISSOAMAZINGILOVESHIM!

Ignore the random Pippinosity.

This is mostly just to say A) AAAAAAH I LOVE GAIMAN AND I LOVE DREAM SO MUCH AND I WANT TO HUG HIM and I had a fanfic idea that is just LOVELY and it's weird, because for someone who's in love with Morpheus I spend an inordinate amount of time on Daniel-era Dream in my fic ideas. It's all about how all of them adjust. (What does that say about me?)  and B) I have a favorite store. American Apparel. And I want clothes. I, Lee, want to go shopping.

Tremble in Ph34r.

But I'm excited about it, 'cause they have everything in all colors, basically--so I can get purples and greens and blues and blacks.  And I have the AWESOMEST black jeans now. And they look really smashing on me. (And a shirt which frankly feels really daring and... skimpy to me, even though it's standard. I'm so goth. I wear black all the time. I love it.)

And I talked with Sarah for four hours last night. Shared news--including old news SHE HADN'T FUCKING TOLD ME MY GOD SARAH IS THE MOST INCREDIBLE PERSON SHE WAS PUT THROUGH SO MUCH SHIT AND SHE IS STILL SO STRONG. I knew there was a reason I put up with her sanctimony sometimes.  I love her. (And no, Jen, that reason is not that I'm fundamentally a good person. Just pig-headed. And I love you too. But don't flatter me? It makes me feel all uncomfortable and worthless. Strange reaction, I know, but hey, did you expect anything BUT strange from me? Anyway, you exist to keep this world sane. And if you're paid for your existence... damn, lucky you. Most of us don't.)

But we shared news and troubles and I'm telling her stories tonight, and guess what! SHE ASKED ME TO TEACH HER PHYSICS AND CALCULUS! *On cloud nine!* So I'm starting my job as a private tutor tonight.  I'm so happy.

Now, off to tech! WHOOT FOR TECHIE BLACK! GO LIGHTING!

(...I'm doing lights. I now frown suspiciously...)

John (gayboy lead singer at school) was nice enough to call me and tell me rehearsal was moved back to 8pm, so I got to sleep extra long this afternoon. Thank god.

I fail at life.

but... mainly, at the moment... Heath Ledger's dead.  Y'know, I mean, I wasn't a huge fan, and it's mostly just hitting me 'cause it's so soon after Jared and he's a blond young looking type like Jared was.  And that it was an overdose, but apparently not a suicide.

And... well.

*Sighs* Well, I was planning my arranged!marriage storything earlier anyway. So that... makes me feel... somewhat better, I guess. Not really. But I can pretend it does.

Weirdest fucking year.

 EDIT: "I watched him even then as he fell, his face undefeated, his eyes still proud[...] the Morningstar."

Fucking hell, Gaiman. Why do you kill me? Just... agh. And the only blood, and... WHY?! AAAACH. Just... gods above, that thing just about stopped my heart.

So I have associations--so screw me.  But... Valar preserve me.  That line just... it just about stopped my heart.

I feel useless.

Okay. So I was going to post my exuberance on Friday. I'll go back and edit that post and do the update on those coupla days in a little while. I haven't had the energy. It was a strange high. I promise I'll go back and write it up, though, because OH MY GOD MY CHOIR DIRECTOR IS FUCKING INSANE I LOVE HIM. *Giggles* Just... oh Scotty B.

But... uhm. Yesterday I had piano lesson--I LOVE Mozart, really I do. And love sightreading him, playing him, analyzing every chord as I go along that I can while still playing... aaaaah, music.  Anyway, then my Tessa came over and we watched Fruits Basket. It was lots of fun.  I love my Tessa. And I gave her the Audrey Hepburn book that I got that I didn't care for one way or another, but she LOVES Hepburn, so... she's happy. And that makes me happy. Even if we didn't get to see Golden Compass. Bah humbug.  Today, had rehearsal, forgot, was late, etc, bad day. Ugh.

Tyroshaun is incredibly good at the guilt complex thing. Lord, he'll find a way to blame himself for anything and everything.

... WARNING. This is a writing-filled post and there are five hundred tags because... well, yes. It's everything that's in here. And a summary of my mind at the moment, so it is necessary. For my record keeping. Skip ahead if you'd like.

Anyway. The other thing about yesterday... I rambled at/with LG, and WHOOT FOR WORLDBUILDING. Ohmigod, LG, you save my life.   Just... lord oh lord, you save my life. And I get to keep my other 'verse too now, despite Apocalypse!verse... which is what I'm calling that one, for the simple fact that... okay, I'll put that in below with my list of my private playground 'verses. So I've essentially got four 'verses right now, one on the front burner, one sort of... in the tea-kettle for sipping at, and two on the back burner.  One... based off an interesting fanfic idea I had that I may change so that I just have the epic sort of thing in that time period, so I'm not sure if I ought to count it as a verse or just a story. That's in the incubator.  And sort of in the pantry--not hot or cold and for snacking on, are my JA fanfic ideas.  Mostly P&P.  My Jeeves-JA mix, and my new theater!P&P fic.  (Come on, you all saw that coming--did you think I could resist the idea?)  I'm REALLY going to make Darcy blond in one of them. Just to break the paradigm. Not light blond, but... not blond. You can be broody without being dark-haired, dammit! I also do have a shortfic idea, for Sandman. *Grins* A Sweeney-Sandman story, actually. I mean... if Sweeney isn't a nightmare, than what is? Or it'll be a Corinthian-influencing-Benjamin-Barker/Sweeney-Todd.  But mainly I'd like to see Dream and Sweeney talking. *Grins*

...I love my head sometimes. *Grins* Now, the summary of the 'verses and the fics (and if you'd like any further information, please feel free to give me a nudge or ask for an email. ...why I'm offering, I don't know, as this is mostly for my own reference and mostly the five people who read this either A) already know, or B) will be told anyway by my rambling (sorry, LG-san), or C) won't be interested. I mean... the reason I keep this is mostly for my own memory, y'know? It's not like I have hordes of friends to keep up with... I never have. The ones I keep up with, I keep up with. I just need to write things out sometimes... anyway, still. If you'd like more info/the long and detailed plot explanation, let me know and I'll give it to you! Just be warned about the hours it'll need):

(...I don't know why I find the real world so damn boring. It's all about the high fantasy and the magic and occasionally the spaceships for me. It's odd. ...SPACESHIPS AHOY!)

So those are my seven (or nine... whoa, hey, my two favorite Significant Numbers!) ideas for writing lately. Sorry for the time I'm taking up, but I really, really needed to get that out. And it brought a smile to my face, which... I also desperately needed.  When I start singing from Assassins? Help is needed.

(With this analogy, you could say ideas seven and eight, the musicals, are the liquor cabinet: oh so enticing, out of bounds, and... ah, inducing giggles and insanity.)

...It occurs to me, now, that I HATE cooking and so maybe all those cooking analogies were singularly... bad.  Uhm. Usually I think of my head as a library, or a common room.  Or maybe a house.  A theater'd be a good analogy.  I'll... think of a better way of putting it.

Uhm. #1 is the big money high-class show (...Dunno, maybe a highly acclaimed Shakespeare or... dunno, Sweeney?), #2 the avant garde side gig (Mirrormask), #s 3 and 4 are scripts stuffed in a file drawer 'cause no one's bought 'em yet or in pre-production (Feeling Electric/whatever it's called now stupidheads), #s 5 and 6 are community theatre (my school's Crazy for You), #s 7 and 8 are The A Daily Show and The Colbert Report (bert/port, not bear/pore...), and #9 is that great idea about spaceships you had and haven't gotten around to dealing with.  To put it all in show-biz terms.

All I need to add to that is to have a #10 that was a long-running show that got cancelled. ...I wonder what some of those people who stuck around so long'll do... 

...My first smile in a while. That felt good.

EDIT: ... Aaand "I Know The Truth" is on. And it's making me, like, want to go curl up and die.  Partly for me, partly because I've got a hysterically sobbing character on my hands and it's painful. ...No. that's not right. Not sobbing. Not hysterical. Just...... this spot where everything sort of... curls up on itself, into a singularity. It's like a... grey hole? Not as extreme as a black hole, but... lord. It's hard.

I'm never sleeping again.

Kthnxbye.

(...NO. BAD FIC. SAVE ME.)

 EDIT: Oh, did I mention I have to fucking play at a funeral tomorrow? Well, technically memorial, not funeral.

Greeeeaaat move to have my sleepless, nightmare-filled night be TONIGHT.

Fuck it all to hell. ....excepthellisscaryanddarkandreallybloodyandhasanoven

So... lots of stuff, I guess. First, apologies for constant posting. Just... no one here, y'know? No one to talk to. So... I ramble.  Despite nothing happening today. I'm a fantastic sightreader--could only be better if I were actually going to be a professional musician. Odd, that my greatest talent seems to lie with the one thing that's a game and a passtime for me. Perhaps it's more that it's my greatest talent, but not really enough to justify pursuit. Otherwise...

God only knows what my life would have been like if it had been enough, or if my parents had encouraged me towards it instead of pushing me into science because music's something of a dead end 99.99% of the time.

I talked to Tess for a while today. And I'm calling Sarah, too. I miss them. And thank god you're back, Jen... lord, I miss my friends. I miss my life. Mom and Dad suggested asking Betsy over to watch physics with me. I dunno if I should.  I'm a little shy about the idea. But I'd really like to.  Betsy's been such a saving grace in my life lately--SHE IS AN ANGEL OF MERCY OH MY GOD PAINKILLERS ARE TEH LOVE.  And of course Elizabeth... I love that girl.  More and more.  (Mental note: add my Elizabeth tag to previous posts.) I really want to get to know Ren, too. She's so kickass-ly awesome I want to like worship her.  (Wren? Rin? Rine? Catherine Fondren... I don't know.)  If I don't see her on AIM much, I really need to call Christina too. ...I miss Sta. Randomly. Nostalgically.

I hate melodrama. I hate it when I get like this, all self-pitying.  I hate it, hate it, hate it.  It's sick. It's stupid. ...The fact that I'm calm and not curled up in my bed sobbing is a definite sign that my meds are working for me, after all.

I really need to finish my college applications. I need to get out of here.  It's a cliff, and my wings are spread and ready, but I keep running and running and the edge never gets any closer so I can never take the leap... Nevermind that I'm frightened to death of open edges or of falling.  "Sometimes you wake up, and sometimes, yes, you die... but sometimes when you fall, you fly."

...*Sighs* I think I'll write and then go curl up with Morpheus for a while.

I don't know if I'll work any harder in second semester. I want to, in an academic way--by academic I mean in a perfect hypothetical situation.  But... it's probably not going to happen.  I'm too tired, too unhealthy, too sick at heart from the world and my life to really care about it all anymore. I really just... don't care. It's why I've avoided the college stuff. I can't bring myself to care.

It's funny how easy it is to waste energy, all or lots of it, in uselessness or crying. And how hard it is to try to make yourself happy.

EDIT: ...I LOVE CARBON LEAF SO EFFING MUCH. *Dies* I'm listening to One Prairie Outpost... and I just found my theme song for this novel. Just... gack. So perfect. *Dead* ...I love them.... and such nice music, too.

There are times I love being right about things.  Like, for instance, this morning, about that my math teacher is the coolest person in the world. *Snicker* A kid-friendly Dr. House, I swear.  That brilliant, and we had a HILARIOUS discussion about emotional problems--although the very idea of having a discussion with him about emotional problems is almost bizarre, but it happened and wasn't even... odd.  And I love him.  And he cracked up when I casually mentioned something I'd done. Cracked up and then told me he's done EXACTLY THE SAME THING.

God, how good do I feel with that?  *Snicker* He's amazing.  Really amazing.  And with my certain knowledge that mum would NOT be in the room she's subbing in at eight like she's supposed to be so I could pounce her and getting to sulk in a lovely, juvenile manner about it, and enjoying every minute.  There are times I love being right.  Like, for instance, this morning.

...Then there are the times I hate being right.  Like about the fact that I fail miserably at ever making friends, like when I realized that one of my best friends from middle school bores me now to the point that I didn't wait to say hi to her on the way to class like I usually do.  When I realized that... it wouldn't even hurt me to never hear from her again, 'cause she's boring as all hell.  Or like how I knew little miss bitch soprano had made it to the next round of Region, when she shouldn't and I hate her guts.  There are times I hate being right.

Like, for instance, this morning.

...No wonder I can't control my mood. I forgot my medicine. For the third day in a row.

I need to... stop caring about things.  About life.  It's never worth it, and it always just leaves me bleeding.  And I'm not letting the world bleed me dry.  But... how's it go?  "But we must care.  For if we do not care, we do not exist.  If we do not exist, then there is nothing but blind oblivion."

...Trust Pratchett to remind me why I can't close up.  *Sigh* What would I do without Pratchett and Gaiman?  Besides, you know, not have had the inspiration I did and the guidance and world view.  I really should have used that quote from Death on my senior page.

...But I suppose that Here And Now, You Are Alive suffices.

I stand by my motto: When in doubt, I am right--unless it's math, in which case Dr. Raulston is right, or physics, in which case Webassign wants to eat my soul (and I may STILL BE RIGHT GODSDAMMIT)--but when in doubt.... I am right.

Ye gods, I hate being right.

...I just realized that I made up my subject line.  *Blink* WTF. Where'd the poetry come from?

EDIT: *Wails* My computer won't be shipped until the 22nd! *Wibbleflailcrydead* Iwanmynewlaptop... mommeeee.

Also, d'you think if I offer up my firstborn child the English department would let me into the class I want?