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I really hate that feeling where you know you have a lot to do, but you dont do it. its really really anoying. like now. i should be finishing a paper that was due yesterday, but instead im writing on a blog about how i should be doing it. bug!!! come over this weekend, im out of bread! and top ramen is really gross.

so the dream starts out like most of my bad dreams-zombies. So zombies are attacking, except they're kind of smart, and the only place where you're totally safe from them is this place where all the rich people live. And so there's this really nice car driving down my Apocolypse Now street and this old man sees me killing this zombie and he asks me if I've had enough (because i've started to just kick the crap out of it now) and I said that these things ate my dog in the beginning. He said that's impossible, they dont feed on animals, and I said in the beginning, they fed on anything. it was kind of an awkward conversation. I didnt like the guy but he said that if I became one of his wives, he would bring my family to live in Covense (which is where it was safe) I asked what he wanted in return and he stated "only your company." i looked the same in my dream as i do in real life, so i was suspicious. so we go to the place and it's really nice. the only person left in my family is my mother who doesn't talk or do much. I'm married to him for a few years and find out that he's very rich and im the youngest and most unattractive of all of his wives (he has eight)he uses me specifically for "hunting." but since there are no animals left, you hunt zombies. for some reason and inter breeding of humans and zombies happened sometime ago and now you have a group of second class citizens who are like zombies but are smarter, they can talk and carry on jobs (small jobs but it pays the bills. in convnse, they have levels where people live, kind of like a parking garage. the richest (or purest) live on the top where no zombies or halfs can get tooand on the lower levels they're named weird like "non-psychotic." the guy doesn't use me for anything gross (like sex) or anything, just hunting. One of the people that he also took in is an orphan. he's black, not very good looking but we automatically fall in love. my husband also has a henchman, who is a total ass hole. he makes sure all of his owners wives are faithful. im walking alone to school one day and my love comes next to me and we pull one of those 1984 gigs with winston and julia, where it seems to everyone else we're just talking about the next hunting trip but really we're telling eachother about how madly in love we are. so we're walking and when there's no one around i tell him about how much i hate my husband and how much i love him. my lover pulls out a tape and says that if we're found out we'll be shot. i ask him what's on the tape and he tells me its a recording of my husband shooting a real man that he mistook for a zombie. the reason that is so important is because that's pretty much the only law and if you're caught (and a man)you're exiled and your belongings are turned over to your newest wife (which is me). my lover tied the tape to a pole so that it wasn't seen and he leaned in and told me someone was watching. i looked up and it was the ass hole. we were standing at the end of a cricket field and my lover went to go talk to the henchman, but the henchman told him to just go back to me. for some reason i thought he would keep our secret, but instead, when he got back to me the henchman shot my lover. i cant tell you why it crushed me as much as it did. i had memories of us together, totally in love, and this guy just shot him. the henchman told me that i need to come with him now. i looked up at the pole and the tape was still there so i knew i could get revenge. i started to pick up my lovers body and noticed that the bullet had grazed me in the side. i knew my husband would kill his henchman for that, but i was unable to carry my lovers body. the henchman burned the body as i walked away. i was crushed. when i got back i found out that my husban had killed his first wife because she had miscarried and her two kids had been exiled for it. for some readon this was perfectly normal. he told me that i was to take the role of his first wife (baby making). i told him that his henchman had shot me. he didn't ask why and immediately asked me what i would like done to him. i told him i would like him to be exiled, but my husband killed him instead. i knew that i would have to go back to where my lover's ashes were and retreive the tape and expose my husband's cruelty to one of the court officials (who was my husband's third wife's brother). then my husband would either be exiled or the wives could choose his death. i was on my way out of the garage when i woke up.

Shoulders knees and toes

i.

You know who are jerks most of the times? Police Officers. I can't understand any of their logic. Now, like I say before, we're not vulcans so I'm free to speculate.
What gives them the right to choose which car to check? Personally I check all of them because I have nothing better to do. But it seems they pick only late issued models or newer models with minorities driving. Which is kind of an oxymoron since whites are a minority. Anyways, the things they say about immigrants. I feel like I'm the only logical person there which makes me feel totally illogical. "Why are they coming over here? Yadda Yadda Yadda." And all that jazz. And then I try to explain to them that it's perfectly logical for them to come here because their country is in political turmoil. And then they complain about them not knowing English. And then I try to explain to them that when the American public with its biggotry and hatred creates a second class of a race it would seem only logical that they would then either develop a hybrid language or use the one that they all share. If we condemn Latinos to this second class society we should be trying to fix that and not bitch about them not being able to take our order right. I actually think they're doing quite well. I still don't understand how people can be so cruel to them though. When we change our definition of "Human" to "American" than it just becomes that much easier for apathy. Think of a racial slur, and the picture of a stereotypical race comes into mind, the stupid ignorant something or other with no sense of practicality of decency. When that thing does something wrong, does it make it that much easier to see it as a one-dimensional thing rather than an American? Not even American, as a human? I've always been so puzzled about how much more pain there is with the death of one animal or person to the death of, say eighty. I can understand the death of about ten or less, but beyond that I can't even begin to conceive how much pain there is within that. But who would wish that upon someone else? Or mankind in general. That we could understand the death of fifty like we could understand the death of Matal Sanchez. Wasn't that awful though? How could someone brutally murder a four-year-old little boy? The funeral was awful people were wailing and shreiking and someone had the hiccoughs., and the mother sat there in total oblivion until the casket was lowered and she just began shreiking and had to be held back from jumping in the hole. I'm so glad I'm part sociapath or else I would've been bawling like everyone else. I almost got teared up once or twice. But I thought of cows using straws and did just fine.

In Law Enforcement, they're saying is, "There is no higher honor than for one person to investigate and fix the pain of another's." Now, logically speaking "another" would seem to refer to a person. But since we are not vulcans, and logic dictates only towards logic and not towards action, I am free to speculate.
There is a girl in my chemistry class. I'm always stuck as her partner becuase I have no friends. Anyways, when the beheadings of the US Contractors was going on she would constantly ask me if I've seen the footage. And I would reply yes. And before I could tell her how awful theses happenings were she would say, "Ogh my god, I need to see that web site." and the next time we'd see eachother she would sound almost happy that she had seen it. She would describe it as if to say, "oh my god, isn't that cool."
Naturally I was creeped out. Her fascination with death and her hate of anyone who disagrees with her. She has this malicious streak towards lesser beings, such as bugs. She doesn't hate bugs, she seems to see them as something to be feared. So she seeks out these little monsters and tortures them till they give up the will to struggle and then she kills them. On one such incident, we were working with acid and she told me of a story of when she saw a big pregnant spider and how she picked it up to take it to her fathers tool shed where she poured acid on it and watch it slowly die because she did not put enogh acid on it to kill the poor thing instantly.
Do I have the right to punish her? Would it be a sort of Karma if I did? I think it would be. She killed a lesser being so could I in a fact punish her for killing an innocent thing?
I've done it before. A person kicked my dog, so logically I assumed that I could kick them for this insult against my dog. Since my dog had no way of defending itself it seemed quite logical that I the dog's gaurdian would then practice revenge on his attacker. What was different with this spider?
I had an oath as a peace officer to protect the life and property of others (not specified to species) so was this not my responsility to deter her from reenacting these malicious acts upon another I have sworn to protect? It did fall into this category through my logic and tomorrow I shall initiate the spider's revenge. Though it will have died. and is dead now. I will talk to her and tell her that that was wrong and any further trespasses on someone else's right to live will be dealt with swiftly. Because what she did was wrong. And it was. So That's what I will do.

has anyone else ever felt really depressed in American Lit? I know Bridget hasn't 'cause she's not in that class, lucky dog. Anyway, when I'm in that class I always think about suicide. Not mine, but a person who committed suicide, i think it was maybe june (?) or last year. Anyway, whenever i go in that class for our little P.O.D.'s i always write about that, and how it's kind of his daughter's fault. I know it sounds horrible but it really is.

Okay, so she was molested about three times by her step father Jim, and then when she met her boyfriend (who's not very productive and they were off and on for about two years) she finally decided to tell him about it and he blew up and told everyone else. He told me at high rocks, which was a little awkward and that was a disaster since i was the only one not saying "i'm gaonna cut his fucking head off." so then she hashed a plan to run away with jon (and while this was happening her mother (barbera) had left her and jim to be with her sleazy boyfriend) before her (ashley) and jim went on a trip to maryland to see his two biological children. but of course, it fell through. and they came home early and ashley told her mother and then jim got arrested and then he went to jail and hung himself.

how untactiful! i know this sounds cruel but you don't really know her and if you did it would still sound a lil cruel. but what has always bothered me is that how did she not tell us? if your a girl, you know your girlfriends. you have those intimate moments where you tell them things you would never dream of telling people and you cry and yell and all that jazz. and for the 11 years i've known her she never told us.

her excuse was that she would feel embarressed. but why? i was abused for years upon years! physically though, not sexually, so would that make a difference? and i told her all about it and she could look into my eyes and not tell me and make me feel like such an outsider? gah! i don't understand. i would tell her, yet she wouldn't tell me? she would tell her slacker boyfriend who hasn't graduated high school and lives off of her? so illogical. And so whenever i go to American Lit. I think about this and then I write it down to pretend i'm doing something and then I recycle it on breaks. so depressed.

My name is satsu. I'm new to elowel.