Canon.

Good morning/afternoon. Apparently I'm writing in a different font today. Yesterday my mind kept churning until the morning sun filtered through my matchstick blinds. The day before I don't remember. This morning I went to the gym for a light workout. Dead lifts and chin ups to start the day. Ellyza was going to hang around and study in the library with me, but she forgot her books and had to go home. Silly Billy. Tonight we're going to a vintage market, where I hope to purloin an electric typewriter. Then we're going to see The Great and Powerful Oz at the cinema. She is an avatar of excitement. I am about the same as always, with a slight lift in my spirits from typing out my soul yesterday day. I was ever so slightly worried that I wouldn't be able to finish my assignments by tomorrow night, being that I haven't started them. I decided to check QUT virtual to find the exact deadline, and after negotiating my way through a level 2 sanction for unpaid fees and academic penalties found that neither essay is due till April 19. I probably would have been better off not knowing, to be honest. Mikey asked me to clean this morning. I could hear the worked up courage translated to authoritative tone in his voice. I didn't particularly want to clean, but I did. I took my vengeance with mean thoughts about how much smarter I am. Ellyza and I looked at houses the other day. One had this gorgeous wide veranda looking out onto a home made tree house in a palette of greens. I keep fantasising about it. Sitting out in nature with a typewriter and a cigarette, writing the wrongs of the world with my fingers. She wanted to sign up right there, but I said no. I said that we can't move out until we are both financially ready for it. I'm set, with my poker winnings in a little red wagon, but she still has some piggy bank men to pay off. She was upset, but thankfully she talked to her parents and they, as per usual, had my back. I believe her dad's response was along the lines of "duh," which I, of course, appreciated. I'll seek you out, Flay you alive One more word and you won't survive And I'm not scared of your stolen power I see right through you any hour Eyes on Fire - Blue Foundation. I spent a long time last night thinking about my Art and Ellona story. It needs restructuring. Here is how I see it playing out now: Art comes in, cuddles El. Gets a bit frisky. She turns into a turtle. He is understanding, and coaxes her back into comfort (transition will be simply "El said" to show she is back) She cries and says sorry and that she wishes she could be better. They talk about their problems. Art explains difficulties and how hard it is but promises to try. They say they love each other and go to bed. In bed Art starts talking, mostly to himself, about life. She leans over and kisses him. They start slowly, cautiously, escalating. She takes of his shirt, kisses his chest. He runs his hand down her side, whispers in her ear. She starts to grind on top of him. He picks her up, kissing her. Put her down on bed, takes off shirt, takes off bra. Hunger in his eyes. Goes to take her breasts in his mouth. She turns into a turtle. He yells and smashes his fist through the window. Rain pours in. He yells, tries to calm himself down. Yells more as the room fills with water. Final words: "Why can't you just be normal?" She swims out the window, into the ocean. I also think it might be better all in third person. I like it. I like it a lot. Now it just needs to be written. Maybe all of the gunk in my brain needs to be cleared out before it can create something beautiful. More likely it's just an excuse not to write. Jehova'a Witnesses must be smoking crack to believe this shit: "God does not tell his worshippers to base their faith simply on miracles. Rather, their faith should be firmly established on facts." - Hebrews 11:1 Faith, by definition, cannot be based on facts. Belief based on facts is called knowledge. Duh.