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On moving.
11.3.2003 by Adam.


Sorry I've been away for so long. You see, my internet connection has been unreliable at best, and apocalyptic at worst. Usually it's just been staying in a broken state though. Yesterday, though, it decided to warm up its circuits and begin killing kittens again. I warned it last time, when it started raining febreeze here in Columbus. That was okay though, because I had run out of dryer sheets and so my socks smelled terrible. The fact of the matter is that I cannot wear crunchy socks. Even if they are the most foul smelling, disease ridden socks ever, I still would rather feel that wrapped around my piggies than have stiff socks. Speaking of piggies, my neighbor came over the other day. She asked me if she could borrow a gallon of bacon grease. I told her I only had hamburger grease, but she could have that if she wanted. She yelled at me and called me a blasphemer. Apperantly I had offended Th'clotch, the elder god of suicide. She was trying to impress him by eating nothing but grease until her veins collapsed, her heart siezed, her liver quit, and her face exploded in a giant guyser of meat and pimple juice. From what I hear, Th'clotch is not a fan of hamburger grease.

So I moved into a new apartment. It's not a very fancy place, this, with couples arguing in a drunken stupor outside on their doorsteps and the occasional scream in terror from the family up the street. Someone keeps stealing Buddha, you see. For whatever reason, this family keeps a Buddha in their bathroom. Every time they go to evacuate themselves they have to rub Buddha's belly, in order to show respect. The neighbor kids have taken to stealing Buddha every chance they get. It's an experiment, to see whether or not the family will explode or violate sacred law by dropping a load without paying tribute.

This whole neighborhood is insane.

Anyways, after I moved in I searched the apartment. Just to be sure there weren't any drugs in here I could peddle to buy me some furnature. Apperantly the last tenants were clean, or at least they took their stash with them. I did, however, find a desk, a desk lamp, a futon that smelled like cat pee, 5 posters of varying taste, an empty bottle of motor oil, a desk and a strobe lamp. I've made use of the desk, strobe lamp, desk lamp, and motor oil, but tossed the rest out.

In my mad effort to get all my crap from one place to another, I just kind of tossed everything where it would fit. I managed to compact all my stuff from the one room into a room half the size without much trouble, but now I can't find anything. I'm missing most of my cds, music or data, which contain most of just about everything I've ever wanted. I can't find the remote to my television too, but I know I brought it with me. Also, it smells like my cat is around here somewhere, but I can not for the life of me find his pale backside anywhere. He's probably peeing on my cds.

I'm sure by this time you're wondering "Just where is the point you're trying to make, you crazy son of a llama?". My point, despite all the preceding woes, is this. Moving away is probably the best thing I've done in my entire life. I'm financially sound, peacefully alone, save for when I want to be, and extremely happy that I can buy my own food instead of drinking "Big K" cola. I don't even think it's the independance that thrills me so much as the change. I had become stagnant, the same things happening each day. Think, for a moment, about your life. Mine had become a stale blending of moments, a tiring blur of nothingness. Now, I have new things to discover. New people to alienate, and new dogs to barbeque. Change is the key here.

So, the next time you feel bored. Out of place, disfunctional, or just depressed, get your lazy butt off the sofa and do something wierd. Something you've never tried before. Drive to a new city, or just drive to a new area you've never been to before. Call a random person. Eat at that Indian place you've never been to before.

Try some change. You'll like it.




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