FOR THOSE MOMENTS WHEN TYPING DOES NOT PROCEED NATURALLY.

Hundreds of different thoughts have made up the mental framework of this soon-ending Summer Vacation (lest we even dare to call it a "vacation"). I have several dates protruding from my mind that garner some significance. Having not written about them in real-time, I might as well mark them down in my little scrapblog that could:

June 13th-15th: The Tony Awards. All that entailed, and more.

June 20th: Final day of Summer Semester, and the first "top of my class" semester in every course. (Yes, it's my writing. I will brag. Suck it, Jesus.)

June 29th: Project: Apartment (Temporary) Relocation. Take one.

July 25th: The end of something. Something of magnitude. I have no idea what other words accurately situate what anything is in the realm of this something. But it is no longer.

July 27th-29th: Family Disney Magical Time. And, Ikea with Elise.

July 29th-31st: NEW APARTMENT MOVE-IN! Probably the most exhausting few days, yet the wonderfully rewarding feeling of being in a comfortable, enjoyable space that belongs solely to me and a gay.

I fully understand and comprehend that the entirety of August up until this point is missing, yet I have witnessed no landmarks along the way that signify dates of importance. Should my past suddenly alter, I will be sure to make accommodation within this post.

Tonight seems as good a time as any to tap out some lingering thoughts of absolutely no consequence...

...and, interruptions.

MY LIFE IN PARTS OF SPEECH.

There are parts of me that have absolutely no idea how to be:

Thoughtful.
Considerate.
Loving.
Compassionate.
Philosophical.
Spontaneous.
Vile.
Intuitive.
Narcissistic.
Flirtatious.
Romantic.
Beautiful.
Soulful.
Precocious.
Tragic.
Positive.
Unbelievable.
Neurotic.
Lovable.
Unreasonable.
Ruthless.
Carefree.
Overwhelmed.
Joyful.
Needy.
Occupied.
Lonely.
Dangerous.
Effervescent.
Complete.
Truthful.
Humanistic.
Resourceful.
Endearing.
Cruel.
Commonplace.
Relaxed.
Witty.
Thankful.
Itchy.
Begrudging.
Alive.

Then again, there are parts of me that have nothing better to do in life than to wrap my world around all of these adjectives. (Sometimes, I have no doubt in my mind that I am every single one of these descriptive entities all at the same time.)

Life can be tiring; however, I would not choose to live it any other way.

I WOULD ENJOY SLEEP. I TRULY WOULD.

After the last few days, one can only assume that this is where my brain should rightfully be...

MURPHY SNORES, AND I AM RESTLESS. LIFE IS INCREDIBLY EQUITABLE.

I cannot wrap my mind around the things that spurt out from my heart. Never have I been able to, and the future does not indicate any sudden change in direction (whether positive or negative).
I ache for so many differing things in this world. I wonder if people genuinely recognize that or simply find me to be a scattered mess of a being. Regardless, what hold should their opinions place upon me?

[Editor's Note: There's a part of me that breaks whenever Murphy sinks his unthinkably sharp teeth into my hand. The rationalist inside me stands incredibly aware of the fact that he means nothing by it, yet my emotional core is flimsy, convincing me that I am simply a pathetic and useless chew-toy to him. So, not incredibly useless. Merely pathetic. A much nicer scenario, I suppose.]

[Editor's Note to the Note: It's been a mother-effing long time since an Editor's Note. If I do say so myself. Which I do. Suck it, Trebek.]

There were days previous to this one when I could not cease the banter that scrolled through my brain. On a daily basis, one might fear actual words pouring from my eye sockets; they would dribble down my face, laced with quippy commas and inappropriately long sentences that might seem endless in their miserable quest for greatness mashed up next to literary unorthodoxy. Much like that one. My moments of self-indulgent conversation have not ceased (neither outside of my head via speaking aloud or scribbled on loose-leaf: the college ruled era), but they seem to deposit themselves in a much more infrequent and (undeniably) restricted manner. Is it adult-hood and its multiple layers of adult-y taboo that have quashed my desire to beguile my own presumptuous brain with erratic thoughts, or is it a self-imposed exile to a world where shutting down and ignoring that which propagates inside my lobes is totally okay, dude?
Four lttr wrds seem dumb. ToMe. Noww.

And...I have reverted back to that mind of a twelve-year-old. Ignorant, dispirited, and (luckily for this particular brand of Kelley) as incredibly self-righteous as any adolescent should ever dare to be.

Disgusting. Or, maybe just a step away from that. Yet to be determined, I suppose.
I suppose far too much. Maybe I should just decide every once in a while.
Maybe.
Gah.

MORNING. THIS MORNING, IN PARTICULAR.

I might, very easily if I do say, sleep for eight days at a time. The length of days in this example is quite insignificant, so long as it justifies my enormity of exhaustion. Why such exhaustion? That, dearest no-one, I cannot fathom.
I am incredibly aware that I should be readying myself in preparation for class this morning, but...
No. Not-so-much. I will attend, but that will likely be the extent of my participation. Too much has elapsed in the past seven weeks that has assured me of my minor educational success to have me fretting over the last two days of review and blather.
And now, I really have to leave. Truly. Genuinely.
I don't care.

CLICK, CLACK.

It is indeed a charming sort of feeling to look back and graze over old lives, stories, moments, memories. The egregious span of time between that which was present then and that which is present now brings out the literary longing in me. Life, I daresay, overstepped my anecdotal mind, leaving it tired and festering by itself, unwilling to scrape together three minutes of typing and wit and cynicism.
I seek to change that, I think.
Life and all of its many-faceted components have left me...speechless.

IT'S APRIL.

Worlds have passed and ideas have rotated hundreds, possibly thousands of times since I last logged my thoughts through this medium.

The semester, dare I say it, had weakened my intellectual cravings, diluted my desire to speak and write, specifically those things I would filter through without fervor or conviction. I would much rather allow this page to wallow in silence than to bolster it with gossip, meaningless blather, or topless Miley Cyrus photographs.

I am simply that classy.

My days have been no less successful since the time when I began writing of them. No more successful either, I suppose, but I'll take from it whatever I can.

With only one remaining semester of undergraduate studies, I am eager to push past the insignificance, and gear up for some volatile honesty. It's going to be hard, but I can feel my soul squirming for it. All realms of my live should exude nothing but passionate truth or yearning or enthusiasm. If it is not a positive force in my life, I will seek to rid myself of it. If I miss having it around, I will pull it towards me and pursue it with the greatest and most Edwardian of tactics.

More thoughts will follow at a later point, I suppose.

ADDING AND DROPPING.

This first week back has been inundated with more activity than I had witnessed in the past two months. Beyond physical limitations, I feared for losing of myself this semester, and in that realm, I am making strides that require a strong look at who I am, the talent I seek to possess, and the surging understanding that, at some point in my coming days, I will be forced to make a decision as to how I can best serve all masters of myself- the desire to be business minded, yet performance-ready, and other various "trade-offs."

I will not recognize the word "sleep" until late April.

THIS IS WHY WE'RE BFF.

Gosh, I love him.

HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME.

Twenty-one. Huh.
Well, this should be fun.

THIS WILL GET ME THROUGH THE EVENING.

Oh, I love them. Or, Jemaine. Yes. I love Jemaine.

THE YEAR OF OUR LORD, 2007, IN REVIEW.

If 2007 was our Lord's Year, then here are a few of his thoughts, summarized by the first and last words of each month. I'm refraining from video and pictorial evidence of said thoughts, simply because this will prove long enough as it is. Let's take a peek and see how things fit together:

JANUARY:

9th- Back.
22nd- I love her, I do.

FEBRUARY:

8th- It has been nearly an infinite amount of time since my last opportunity to post on this site, and the primary reasons for that, in descending order, are as follows:...
26th- Best part of the Academy Awards Ceremony. Ever.

MARCH:

7th- So, my kitty went blind last night.
30th- Yep.

APRIL:

1st- At some point in my life, I will vow to take a normal picture.
29th- When you got it, flaunt it.

MAY:

4th- I have a wonderfully mediocre job to subside my building enthusiasm toward self-propelled cryogenics until May 28th finally arrives.
28th- I am striving for exceptions today.

JUNE:

2nd- Groceries.
30th- It was brilliant. Incredibly simple, and utterly gripping.

JULY:

2nd- It's finally over- I've removed myself from the world of Tom's MySpace, solely for the fact that I never utilize it, fail to recognize its value, and have no desire for it any longer.
31st- I want Christopher Walken to make me juicy pear cookies. Right now.

AUGUST:

3rd- I hope there is a day coming along in which people will fail to take me for granted.
23rd- That boisterous smile shall not soon leave my head.

SEPTEMBER:

1st- I hate this time that leaves me less than senile to draw on life, previous experience, adorations, love, etc.
23rd- [Editor's Note: January 3rd. That's not too far away, right?]

OCTOBER:

1st- This is why Oak Lawn, Indiana, has won my heart.
31st- I'll let you know what happens.

NOVEMBER:

17th- I adore being a sixty year-old woman who watches Food Network for fun.
17th- Watch out for my cat.

DECEMBER:

18th- Surgery, the fall term, and life as I know it is...
27th- I am incredibly ready to be, once again, without my computer and full of worthwhile vitality.

The Year of our Homedawg Lord was pretty uneventful. Huh.