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Description
All of it.

All of it happens at once, at all times, at all places. You just can't see it. It happens when you're not watching, or when you're watching that other thing you've been wanting to watch for a long time. You know, that. Yeah that.

(Has this dude gone insane?)

Nah, always have been. But that doesn't matter; it's still true. Did you know my heart is beating right now? It's happening, right now, right here. You just can't see it. Did you know the sky in Nepal is blue, except for where there are clouds in the way, or unless it is night in which it's probably still blue but really dark blue? Yeah. Happening, right now, right there. You just. Can't. See it.

(Eh...)

Never mind. Just... never mind. It's late, 1.53 AM and counting. I've been doing things you shouldn't be doing this late. I'm just sayin', you know? Just sayin'... if something ain't happening, never, nowhere, then it's not part of 'all'. Because that which is not there, does not exist, and 'all' is the gathering of everything in existance. Which means that all of it, whatever 'it' may be, is actually happening. All the time, or it wouldn't be. 'I think, therefor I am', but bigger.

The Rolling Stones are happening too. Right now, right here. Sound quality ain't all that great though, should've put on my headphones.

1.57 AM and counting.

(Why am I still reading this?)

You're still reading because you're as bored as I am while I'm writing this. I am writing this because I had too much coffee so can't sleep anyway, and because I seriously need to get out of my writer's blocked life. Or artist's block, because I can't draw for nuthin' either. Not talking about quality here, just... all inspiration I have goes 'poof' whenever I grab a pencil, open a graphics program...

Wow, I'm pretty quick. 1.59 AM. Ah, 2.00... still counting I see. All the time... everywhere.

(Right... so, what now?)

Currently, I'm wondering what the Presidents of the United States of America have to do with 'Millions of Peaches', other than the fact I dislike both, but when combined it's still brilliant. Ooh, next up is David Bowie's 'Oh! You Pretty Things', not exactly the best song to be listening to this late if I want to go sleep soon. Melancholy I believe the English word is. Not the best thing to have in your head while in bed. Not that I'm in my bed though. If I was, I'd be sleeping. Peh, caffeïne, like my body can't handle a bit of chemicals.

*Bounces around*

Pretty short song that was though, 2.05 AM ('n countin'!) and WinAmp's playing... bleh, next... no, not more Rolling Stones either... nor Southpark... ah! Jimi! Something to do with towers, jokers and thiefs.

...

(... NOW what?!)

Yeah, mind went blank there... 2.08 AM. About 2 minutes of staring at my screen. Perhaps I should go to bed after all. Even though I don't wanna. Sleep is for the weak! Wait, I AM weak. My body at least. I should be working out instead of typing nonsense...

(Yeah.)

Ah shut up.

First monologue in a while, this is. Done more in the past. One directed at someone who died. Wonder what he thought right before that train hit him... probably not something silly like 'Brrr, these rails are FREEZING', or 'Thank god I won't be here anymore when the mess has to be cleaned up'. Still, better to think that than what he might've actually been thinking. I guess. I wouldn't want to get all depressed by getting sucked into the thoughts of the depressed. Again. Heh.

(Ah man, go to bed!)

Hit the road, Jack, and don't you come back no more no more no more no more? The song's got it all wrong, it's Jake, not Jack. Pfft. Hey, Little Wing! Nah, we just had Jimi a few minutes ago. 2.15 AM now, so... 10 minutes ago. Oh, 11 now. Pearl Jam? Neh. U2's too loud for this late... Ah, The Who! Sweet.

(Screw your bad taste for music!)

Know your classics. Then when you know them, learn to respect them, or be prepared to face my... eh... pixels of anger. Grr.

Scared yet?

(No. Pussy.)

None for you! Hahahaha.

(... what you laughin' about? You're a friggin' virgin!)

... crap.

(And besides, you're wrong. Muahahaha.)

... double crap.

Led Zeppelin! Problem with Tommy is that some of those songs on the album are just... either not songs, or far too short... Heartbreaker is a bit longer though. Okay I'll stop with the song titles and stuff now. What were we talking about?

(Your insomnia?)

Ah yes. ... no that wasn't it, damn you. All, that's what we were talking about.

(Isn't your insomnia part of all? Because if it isn't, it doesn't exist, but because you're awake typing this in the middle of the night, it does, and thus is part of 'all'?)

Cut that out will ya? I'm too tired for that kind of stuff. The music keeps me awake, but the caffeïne's pretty much gone now. 2.24 AM... and who could've guessed it, still counting!

Heh. I knew I'd be right... just start writing... and the block will disappear like ice in the sun. Or snow. Or icecream in my mouth. Yum. Boy, the tangents get worse by the minute don't they. I wonder what would happen if I just started drawing... started writing songs again... started playing my guitar... go to bed... stand on my head and sing Bohemian Rhapsody... and actually, no, that's not what's currently playing. 2.28 AM, and one song I just can't not share with you... Rod Steward & the Small Faces - Stay With Me. "Guitar, whoo!"

(Whatever.)

WHENEVER, WHEREVER! Let's go upstairs and... talk, or something. Stay with me, people!

I wonder what'd happen if people read this.

I'm gonna throw this online, just for kicks. Hahahaha, people might comment, but I doubt anybody will actually read it all the way to the end. Oy person reading this, if you're actually reading this, name a fruit in your comment! Nothing too obscure, or I won't know it's a fruit. I'm more of a meat-grinder myself.

(Does he mean me?)

Yes.

(Ugh.)

Hell yeah. So, I'm gonna do something useful now. Probably sleep. Maybe kick myself, if I can reach me. Maybe even some push-ups, if I really can't sleep still. Who knows?

(You will, tomorrow.)

Thanks. Smart-ass.

Hugs to those who reached this. Love you guys. In a platonic way, that is. Except when you're actually a girl, in which case I might love you for real. Even though you might not really notice now, in the future, the past, or a combination of those. I'm weird like that. But, if I do love you, you probably already knew that...

2.39 AM.

Sweet dreams.

Description
All of it.

All of it happens at once, at all times, at all places. You just can't see it. It happens when you're not watching, or when you're watching that other thing you've been wanting to watch for a long time. You know, that. Yeah that.

(Has this dude gone insane?)

Nah, always have been. But that doesn't matter; it's still true. Did you know my heart is beating right now? It's happening, right now, right here. You just can't see it. Did you know the sky in Nepal is blue, except for where there are clouds in the way, or unless it is night in which it's probably still blue but really dark blue? Yeah. Happening, right now, right there. You just. Can't. See it.

(Eh...)

Never mind. Just... never mind. It's late, 1.53 AM and counting. I've been doing things you shouldn't be doing this late. I'm just sayin', you know? Just sayin'... if something ain't happening, never, nowhere, then it's not part of 'all'. Because that which is not there, does not exist, and 'all' is the gathering of everything in existance. Which means that all of it, whatever 'it' may be, is actually happening. All the time, or it wouldn't be. 'I think, therefor I am', but bigger.

The Rolling Stones are happening too. Right now, right here. Sound quality ain't all that great though, should've put on my headphones.

1.57 AM and counting.

(Why am I still reading this?)

You're still reading because you're as bored as I am while I'm writing this. I am writing this because I had too much coffee so can't sleep anyway, and because I seriously need to get out of my writer's blocked life. Or artist's block, because I can't draw for nuthin' either. Not talking about quality here, just... all inspiration I have goes 'poof' whenever I grab a pencil, open a graphics program...

Wow, I'm pretty quick. 1.59 AM. Ah, 2.00... still counting I see. All the time... everywhere.

(Right... so, what now?)

Currently, I'm wondering what the Presidents of the United States of America have to do with 'Millions of Peaches', other than the fact I dislike both, but when combined it's still brilliant. Ooh, next up is David Bowie's 'Oh! You Pretty Things', not exactly the best song to be listening to this late if I want to go sleep soon. Melancholy I believe the English word is. Not the best thing to have in your head while in bed. Not that I'm in my bed though. If I was, I'd be sleeping. Peh, caffeïne, like my body can't handle a bit of chemicals.

*Bounces around*

Pretty short song that was though, 2.05 AM ('n countin'!) and WinAmp's playing... bleh, next... no, not more Rolling Stones either... nor Southpark... ah! Jimi! Something to do with towers, jokers and thiefs.

...

(... NOW what?!)

Yeah, mind went blank there... 2.08 AM. About 2 minutes of staring at my screen. Perhaps I should go to bed after all. Even though I don't wanna. Sleep is for the weak! Wait, I AM weak. My body at least. I should be working out instead of typing nonsense...

(Yeah.)

Ah shut up.

First monologue in a while, this is. Done more in the past. One directed at someone who died. Wonder what he thought right before that train hit him... probably not something silly like 'Brrr, these rails are FREEZING', or 'Thank god I won't be here anymore when the mess has to be cleaned up'. Still, better to think that than what he might've actually been thinking. I guess. I wouldn't want to get all depressed by getting sucked into the thoughts of the depressed. Again. Heh.

(Ah man, go to bed!)

Hit the road, Jack, and don't you come back no more no more no more no more? The song's got it all wrong, it's Jake, not Jack. Pfft. Hey, Little Wing! Nah, we just had Jimi a few minutes ago. 2.15 AM now, so... 10 minutes ago. Oh, 11 now. Pearl Jam? Neh. U2's too loud for this late... Ah, The Who! Sweet.

(Screw your bad taste for music!)

Know your classics. Then when you know them, learn to respect them, or be prepared to face my... eh... pixels of anger. Grr.

Scared yet?

(No. Pussy.)

None for you! Hahahaha.

(... what you laughin' about? You're a friggin' virgin!)

... crap.

(And besides, you're wrong. Muahahaha.)

... double crap.

Led Zeppelin! Problem with Tommy is that some of those songs on the album are just... either not songs, or far too short... Heartbreaker is a bit longer though. Okay I'll stop with the song titles and stuff now. What were we talking about?

(Your insomnia?)

Ah yes. ... no that wasn't it, damn you. All, that's what we were talking about.

(Isn't your insomnia part of all? Because if it isn't, it doesn't exist, but because you're awake typing this in the middle of the night, it does, and thus is part of 'all'?)

Cut that out will ya? I'm too tired for that kind of stuff. The music keeps me awake, but the caffeïne's pretty much gone now. 2.24 AM... and who could've guessed it, still counting!

Heh. I knew I'd be right... just start writing... and the block will disappear like ice in the sun. Or snow. Or icecream in my mouth. Yum. Boy, the tangents get worse by the minute don't they. I wonder what would happen if I just started drawing... started writing songs again... started playing my guitar... go to bed... stand on my head and sing Bohemian Rhapsody... and actually, no, that's not what's currently playing. 2.28 AM, and one song I just can't not share with you... Rod Steward & the Small Faces - Stay With Me. "Guitar, whoo!"

(Whatever.)

WHENEVER, WHEREVER! Let's go upstairs and... talk, or something. Stay with me, people!

I wonder what'd happen if people read this.

I'm gonna throw this online, just for kicks. Hahahaha, people might comment, but I doubt anybody will actually read it all the way to the end. Oy person reading this, if you're actually reading this, name a fruit in your comment! Nothing too obscure, or I won't know it's a fruit. I'm more of a meat-grinder myself.

(Does he mean me?)

Yes.

(Ugh.)

Hell yeah. So, I'm gonna do something useful now. Probably sleep. Maybe kick myself, if I can reach me. Maybe even some push-ups, if I really can't sleep still. Who knows?

(You will, tomorrow.)

Thanks. Smart-ass.

Hugs to those who reached this. Love you guys. In a platonic way, that is. Except when you're actually a girl, in which case I might love you for real. Even though you might not really notice now, in the future, the past, or a combination of those. I'm weird like that. But, if I do love you, you probably already knew that...

2.39 AM.

Sweet dreams.