Prodigy's Life in Vague, Enigmatic, Slightly Confusing Terms

This diary does not (entirely) reflect my life, but perhaps my sole purpose of living: to have you leave more confused than you came in. Everything within is the truth, if you can manage to decipher it. Viel gluck, meine landeskunde.


75. Friday, July 17th.

I've got one month left. Why do I feel so unaccomplished this far? I've finished a novel, am 3/4 done with another, yet I feel like I've done nothing all summer. It's slipping by too fast and I hate it. I'm gonna have to start pulling all nighters to maximize my time. 


"Well I was born too late to be a Rolling Stone,

I don't know Jerry Lee, I never met John and Yoko.

Standin' with a strat, I'm rock 'n roll's bastard som

go out, get drunk, get wild, have fun. 
I don't got a million dollars, don't drive a Cadillac;

give me half a chance, 'cause I'm not dead yet.

I'm not dead yet,

I'm not dead yet,

I'm a mad dog fightin' with the world against my back, 

you better get a bigger gun; I'm not dead yet."

-Styx, "Not Dead Yet" A.K.A. the absolute best confidence building song. 


That awkward moment when you're in the driveway as the mailman drops off your mail, so you figure you'll go get it 'cause, you know, you're there. And then the mailman gives you a friendly wave because mailmen are supposed to be friendly. All is well and good until he starts making one of those slashing motions across his throat; the kind you make when you're telling someone they're as good as dead. I turned horrified in a matter of seconds, but what else was there to do but keep smiling? Smile as he's about to kill me? Sure! 

As I cautiously approached, though, he called, "You got your hair cut!"

I was tempted to reply, "Oh, I mistook you for a psychotic axe murder mailman, but yes, I did get my hair cut, thank you for noticing!" What a strange encounter. 


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