Something Somethings

Something strange seems to be happening to me. A strange phase I'm going through in life right now. Having said that, I don't deny the fact that what was my life, what is and what has been, my life has always been strange; but it's been a kind of strangeness that I, over the years, have become accustomed to. The sort of strangeness that I befriended after having fought it for what seemed like nothing less than a million battles fought over a century.. or well, at least left me feeling like nothing less than a hundred and twenty one years and half old. Now THAT kind of strangeness I'm used to.

This however, is a strange kind of strange. Even for someone as strange as me. It's the kind that's left me wondering, among other things, what my "great plan of action" was as a child. Well.. That's something myself and I like not dealing with. But something else is happening. Everyday, tags a long with me, a girl I don't know too well. A girl I'm growing far too weary of. A girl I just can't seem to place my finger on, what's wrong. I'm a stranger of sorts to myself; the kind you look at and think "hmmm...I wonder if she KNOWS she's weird."

Well Know I do. I had recently thought of updating my Facebook status to, whoever I am is "coming to to accept the fact that she's a clown." But I didn't. Because I didn't feel like talking to myself via the world. See that's just another thing, the once all important Facebook means nothing to this girl who's recently found a home inside of me. I don't know what happened and where, but somehting sure did happen.
There have been many news...and with the many sips of tea on the roof top, the many new "tried and testeds", as I go on each day, ignoring my dog, day after day, maybe a little more with each day after, something's been stirring up a brew deep inside. This weird yet awesomely unknown storm; about the only feeling I am all too familiar with...and as my days proceed on that quiet roof top, with the crows, and the squirrels and the the loud buzzer of a washing machine sweetly cocktail-ed with the incessant barking of a dog tied down to the chain that stands alone as the one true testimony to his sad state of imprisonment; chiming along in protest, the storm I know and love, keeps brewing.

And with the sudden last call of the station master's rusty whistle, the deep exhale of the engine, the tired rattling and chugging along of an ancient train... I know I'll find my order in the sweet addictive chaos of my mind. Order I will find.
Until it's time for the unforeseen storm again.