I want a new look. I crave a change in what's going on around me, and I suppose if the world won't change for me, I'll have to be the one to cause a ruckus.

After class today, I went for drinks with this girl in my class. I mentioned how I wanted to do something funky with my hair, and she encouraged me to go for it and not think about what others would think about it. She's a brave girl though. My mom says I look mean when I stare off into space, yet I'm terrified to ask the guy sitting in front of me if he has a pen I could borrow because in leaning over my desk I may bump my water bottle over, lose my footing, pushing books off my desk in an attempt to regain my composure, and end up hitting my head against his.

Yes, this is what I thought.

And still, there's a gardinia blooming in a clay pot in my living room, completely oblivious as to what is going on round it. The world isn't paranoid, it's the people in it that create the paranoia. Well, no more I say! Time to revolt! Pick up your pitchforks, scythes, and spoons, and throw them back in the barn I say! It's time to go to that last bastion of hope -- The Dance Club old chums.

Yes that's right. The place to let yourself go and ignore the self-conscious You, and be Someone Else for a few hours. Use a fake name if you have to, no one will know!

I wish I were Q from Star Trek sometimes, omnipotence is the way to go baby. Although I might go blind from seeing myself blink in and out from place to place, my glasses are thick enough, thank you very much.
Think about it though, one snap of the fingers and you've gone from England to Japan. Another snap, and you're roving around a distant planet, swapping stories with a giant Sloth-like alien smoking a pipe, and teaching him how to make a Pangalactic Gargle-Blaster. Immortality! All that, and you still get to live forever, that would be maraschino cherry on top of my tiramisu.

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then / after