If olive oil comes from olives, where does baby oil come from?

School's a hard thing to do, for all of us I think. So many of us have trouble focusing. You didn't know this, but right now my face is pressed into a corner, my eyes are closed, and I'm typing this blog simultaneously, no lie. It's because I'm exhausted, mentally and physically...the stress of college alone could be causing this, let's not even get started on the actual work--just the processing of the potential to-do list I have.

However, despite the terrors institutional education may bring, it also teaches me valuable lessons daily.

Last week, for instance, I learned to never do drugs in the same place. Oftentimes, the reason people "overdose" isn't actually because they took a lot more of their drug than usual, but because they were in a new environment with new people, perhaps. See, when you continuously go into the same room all the time to do your drugs, your body recognizes the environment and prepares you for it; that's why you get the itch. [Much like when you're entering a kitchen and you're suddenly starving: simple matter of conditioning.] Slowly you increase your dosage as your body becomes more and more...immune to the substance, if you will. And then you give yourself that dose that would kill a non-heroine addict in a new environment that your body isn't used to and is therefore unprepared, and you die.

This is mumbo jumbo because my face is smashed in a wall right now. I swear it's interesting. I'm just doing a poor job of representing the idea.

Today, I also learned I'm absolutely lost in francais deux avec Professeur Odekirk. Il est tres difficile.

On occasion, I do so well with my own written word. Try putting it in a new language and it's just an all around failure.

I'm sounding whiney right now. I will cease on that subject matter, for there's never a good reason to be whiney.

But someone today said something about wanting to just hop in their car and drive somewhere. Another updated their Facebook to wanting to just change their name and start a new life in a new city. What a romantic idea. But wouldn't we miss those we left behind, at least someone...enough to never truly have a new life? No, maybe not everyone.

I thought like that before I came to college. How I wouldn't be going to school with anyone I knew. No one would know me. I could be anyone I wanted. Tabula rosa. Clean slate.

But I think I ended up, pretty much, being the same person...again.

I suppose it doesn't really matter what situation you're in. You yourself have to transform in order to see a real change. Otherwise, it's just you reacting to whatever situation you're put in. That'll stay the same if you truly are.

And we always want quick, drastic, dramatic changes anyways, don't we? We want to lose weight. But wait, a corpse can lose weight. So instead we must introduce small changes to our lifestyle until we become who we want, until we're satisfied, if ever. Just like learning a new language, real changes don't happen overnight; you have to take semester after semester, and then really live with those people to truly learn.

Because when you lose that weight or become bilingual, you are now a new person. We're already different with each day, the affects of our dreams alone, perhaps, changing us overnight. New experiences change us.

So when you're unhappy...give yourself a new experience. Even if that's watching a new movie: whole philosophies can be changed in two hours.

Become someone else til you're satisfied.

Sometimes I wonder if we could all just take a leaf out of an actor's book and act like the person we want to be, until we're stuck in that role and mindset.

They say be yourself, but who is that really? Is that me yesterday?

Maybe it should be changed to... Become Yourself.

So in that case, life is a journey...to becoming yourself.

And none of that finding-yourself bullshit either. This is an active duty.

Become who you are.

<3<3<3

I apologize for this being so boring...although I was once told to never apologize unless I truly mean it, otherwise it's a sign of weakness. And in that circumstance, I'm not sorry to you really...who would bother to read all of this anyways? I'm sorry to myself, for allowing myself to type such boring, pointless words yet again.

This blog's about as dry as my...mouth.

<3<3<3

Right now, I'm passively becoming myself. Starting with eBay, I'm attempting to purchase a professional camera, but it's dog eat dog out there. I'm not sure why I should even need one--it's not as if I could do a photoshoot for someone and eventually buy my equipment back with those payments.

But I like freezing time, like when my hourglass gets stopped up.

It's such an unnatural thing.

And I'm attempting to get into anything with wheels: rollerskates, scooters, skateboards, Volkswagen vans...

I'm going to memorize wine pairings and make a recipe book and become the perfect hostess.

I'm going to write and make art.

But let's face it folks, I ain't doing shit.

With each day that goes by, you're guaranteed a complaint that I don't have enough time...but I have the same amount as everyone else in the world.

We have to stop letting moments pass us by.

Let's use time and dump that hoe. If we're gonna waste her, at least let's enjoy it with something frisky like spur of the moment roadtrips and large purchases. If we're committing to marry her, we have to plan and study and pass the tests so we can keep her forever and be set.

I don't even know where I'm going with this at this point, but my auction only has 51 minutes left and I need distraction.

If you've made it this far, do yourself a favor and stop. There's no point going on.

Hey. There's no point going on...what am I doing, typing out my thoughts?

I could be discovering something wonderful and becoming myself.

I'll catch y'all later.