Edge of September and October

9/26/12: Time and season pick us up from the the messy and summer grounds. The cold in the mornings makes my mind feel I can work in the business and that walking outside is now more of a privilege  than a playground. I can be more civil again without fear of generating heat. Let this cold silence the land to become a peaceful scenery. Finally the chit-chat will shut-up.
9/27/12: Fog comes into town and with it change of season. I'm starting to think nature is performing a constant play, but the can't decide when to stop the performance, since all it sees is its own spectacular performance it can't get itself enough that it wants more. Ignoring that people now want performances in short compact pieces for something to remember. Maybe that's why some idiots subconsciously ruin the the world. They just want to end it.
9/28/12:  I don't know if I'm awake, but my eyes feel I'm living inside a portrait, never knowing when I will get out of or should get out. I just say what the hell is going on, what am I doing. My nerves want me to follow the fussy drama step in the doubt process. Yet why am I inclined to follow that next step? Later in the day, I blame the god voice who apparently commends me in between my thoughts.
10/5/12: Halloween, the best time to load up on sugar and make people participate in a Scream ritual. No one will die; they'll just let out a bunch of razz-berry jam.
10/6/12: Damn it, the zombies are back. No, I don't want a hickie initiation.
10/8/12: Every October, in the spirit of Halloween, Mothers should let kids play together so the infected can spread the latest version of common cold-mutation. Their new Immune system version 300,458,920.0 is now a reality. They're already doing it with Chicken Pox, why stop there?  Time to give rise to a new breed of humans.
Warning: Mothers must not confuse with colds to flus, bacteria infection, or serious infected diseases. Immune System is not liable for damaged products. Suggested-Manipulated Advise is only to be considered by humans only. We are no responsible for alien matters. 
10/9/12: The fog is given a bad name at this month. Damn historical menaces play with this damper to conduct murders. I would rather see the fog as sign that the land is sacred and only the worthy can walk on this land, but the people don't seem concerned about that problem as of lately. We all see gray affiliation  now.
10/12/12: Nature is starting to celebrate the Halloween sensation. Blowing strong winds and howling in the night. It always rattles my house and it tries to break the windows, but then it wouldn't be a howl. Although the trees get a nice impression of terrifying monsters, especially at night as a mass of shadow.
10/16/12: Thousand frail bodies lying found in my front yard this morning. Their bodies are bruised brown and damp from all the water. They go bent even if beach nuts lie on top of their bodies. People have to clean up the mess with rakes, pile the bodies in black bags, and take them to places where process them into dirt. Though flakes of their thin bodies will still remain in the yards as scars until the wind takes them away.

August

8/1/12: It takes two months before our bodies realize summer is here. That is when the idea of vacation comes into effect. The sun is to blame, the rays make everyone feel drowsey and fall asleep all day. Just wait when they feel the vaction crunch.
8/4/12: The desperate come to the bench. Swarm to make a scene with laughing and pity. Some cars love the beach too much and wish to be their grave. Waves crash non-stop for a concert of beach huggers.
8/5/12: The Baron zig-zags around the people, to feel itself important from a change of social function. Now the Baron serves the citizens.
8/6/12: If you're reading this, I'll tell you now that you shouldn't become a giver. They give away everything they own, getting mental highs of other's lives become better, even if the others don't care. A birthday will not even stop them from spending money for others people's benefit. They record the sensation other people recieve and have their body's senses record the joy. The givers dream of becoming saviors, but that only happened once and no knows if the story really happened.
8/7/12: A shadow lingers above the sky at night and blocks the morning sun in the morning. Yet the blowing wind does not have the cold crisp air to blast your defenseless body. Somewhere, I know an uncle who whines about the sun sleeping in. The sun comes out, and beats the shit out of the shadowy clouds. The clouds sit to the side and wait for the blazing bastard to leave. The night will come again and the clouds start pissing on everyone. Depressing sobs.
8/8/12: The Man from the top of Social Core gets a call from a civilian. We don't know who the caller is, but lets continue. The Man says "Hello my good friend, what do you have on your mind?"
Our Caller says "Yes mr-"
The Man: "You know who I am, there is no need to call my name. How about sir?"
Our Caller: "Okay, uhh Sir, I've been looking at my money and I figured I have enough to buy a Taka Kodo Sword for my brother who runs a forge."
The Man: "Hey now friend, that is some serious investment in owing a forge, but is that forge causing problems for him/her?"
 Our Caller: " She, and she is getting by on the forge. But I wanted to know if I have enough money to take to buy the forge."
The Man: "Well friend, I'm looking at your account and yeah, you're doing all right and likely to afford one these Japen blades, but you're bills are coming up and then you'll barely be able to pay the next bill."
Our Caller: "I do more hours the next week to make up for it."
The Man: " Well if can do what you say, I can allow you to withdraw money, but I need to be sure there is actual proof that you can do that, so I'll be waiting."
Our Caller: " Oh....okay, I'll show you proof as soon as I can."
The Man: "Well enjoy your day my friend, I hear the minimum wage is going lower, good luck."
8/14/12: The return home isn't like the movie scenarios, well except by the loved one,  directors got that right. No one says hello and many didn't even know you were gone for about a week. Some would know, but their body movements go unphased from the lack of particular prescence. Almost as if the mind is cut off from their body, moving towards an unknown moment in time.
8/15/12: I blink and stare in the empty space wondering the perfect opening word to start the tale. Ah, I got it. "The cold kicked him in the legs." No, that's not right, "He mind went light with the numb nerves of his legs." No, No, NO. What's the perfect opening?
8/28/12: I told her to keep all the different foods seperate and isolated. I don't want them to do any funny business, because when I bite into them, the taste is perverted like the oinon and the banana were touching and hugging all over each other. If scientists were taking their seeds, who knows what will come up from the ground.

July

7/6/12: My hands craft and blend the bamboo pole to a smooth grip. Much like black smiths of forging fine smooth rings. The ones they screw up, they put a gem and pattern wrinkles.
7/7/12: The night haze finally leaves when the sun comes out and whines in a heat wave for a cloudless sky to enjoy her own blue haze. Apparently, the sun's is PMSing and would like the clouds to get their emo blob faces away from her. Sitting in the middle of the blue sky, the sun gets excited when she sees the humans running under shelter, and she even laughs when the vultures come out to do clean up around the dry fields. Basically she has nothing better to do than to scorch the earth and leave scars behind.
7/8/12: Why, why, why does there have to be a buzz sawing going off in the summer? The summer's theme is blue skies, warm lakes, and power tools getting horny. The heat makes us animals, we get frustrated when the heat keeps building and we can't escape to feel the chill again. We just get hotter and hotter, and getting naked isn't the issue, even if you allow cool air, you allow sound to invade your privacy. Large bs  pouring into your home, and small secrets leak out from your windows, but the heat keeps coming.
7/9/12: Food is consumed and forgotten, just as time is sped up and goes by. It stings even more when the goals you set up are empty and seeking to work becomes pointless. The questions about yourself are being, but you already know the answer, but you also hope that an answer will come to fill the void, but you got that from characters who felt special. The void only starts to close when you work towards your career.
7/10/12: The summer comes, but the expected population overload never begins. There is not even half a crowd except a parking lot full of squeaking birds and trash bags following the wind's current. Then a bum comes out of the overgrown black berry bush.
7/11/12: There will always be certain individuals who wished they were either born in the past or future. They think their talents as of now would give them an advantage over others or what they imagine is now possible. Then they see the problems of lacking modern medicine or everyone else is vastly superior to them. And then there will always certain individuals who wished they were either in the past or the future from the past or the future.
7/12/12: You know I saw something badass out on the bay, but I'm not telling you. Why should I tell you the things I find and be expected to share such wonderful moments in life. I could be rich, selling my mental memories to those who have money to waste to hear. Don't tell me I'm cheap, businessnesses do this kind of marketing all the time. It would be ethical to just give to you free and....I'll tell you tomorrow, unless you'll pay a quarter to go for another twenty minutes. Loadings are included in the time.
7/13/12: And now, the continuing part two of 7/12/12 will not be seen tonight so that we can pay homage for Friday the 13th........................................................................................................... Nothing bad is happening for the moment, but I don't feel comfortable for leaving the house today, becasue there is always an old man staring at me. Maybe I should go scare him.
7/14/12: I scrap off the paint peeling away like it waits for eternity to have the old wood naked again. Actually, it just looked shitty, dying, and seeing too many old beach houses go the same way, but we're a few miles from a bay, not a beach.
7/15/12: I know I've got some damn good skills, but I feel them rusting and unable to a fitting place. Yet everything is unfitting outthere unless you make your groove. No, not the dancing, I mean make the marks, think of the space as progression, keep working and working, then it won't feel like work, but then you're going to have to think about the family, ha ha ha ha. Now that's the twist.
7/17/12: There is a bird chirping a tune, but I swear they were listening to punk-rock song though I'm not sure who exactly. If you play the guitar the bird can be a good substituent for a vocal singer. Just make him sound more aggressive in his mating calls.
7/20/12: There is power when one aches and moans from sore muscles, but its not for the audience or the self, but it is. When you have tired bones, you feel like a badass, that you're tough. You wish that were true, you know that can't be really the case. Maybe it will +10 points of love affection from your parnters, but you don't have any energy to show them your affection except sleeping. You wish you can endure anything and maybe you can.
7/21/12: There is a peach blue sky and a cool climate, but that usually means its a nice day, but I don't have to tell you about that. I would tell you to shoe. I am alone in spirit or I feel alone in spirit.
7/22/12: Cloudy day. Whisper wind. Think of sheering blades. Get lost in ruins. Wait for rain. Refresh. Feel alive. Smell the water Go home. Look out the window.
7/29/12: I found some treasure in the garbage the other day and this morning I said there is no garbage would have any tresure. Its the supersition business at work, trying to make a business of making the magic and miracles happen and demonstrating that they are a top class espionage. How else could I have spotted four good glasses on top of a garbage can. It may be luck, but my magic concious tells someone employed them to set this up. Who cares, I got treasure anyway, why would they throw away four good glasses.
7/30/12: Popular isn't as great as most people believe. Swarms gather and splash all over one another to scavage what they find or what is left. Most hide in the corners to avoid attention and beat the others to one goal to another. Desperation grows strong from the money splashed out from their pockets and they don't bother to bargein, they rather worship.

Mid-June

6/10/12: I'm free to follow my own regulations, but I'm not quite sure how to follow my own. There is no direction, just a swing in gravity and the daze from the sun does not help. It can encourage your motivations or let you live in ignorance. But this will only suit people for those who get a mental high for helping, but I don't think I know what I'm actually saying.
6/21/12: The lake offers me visions of power, to walk into the center on foot or to move up in the hills to look down below and feel the midway point of heaven and earth.
6/22/12: Haze blankets cover the sky and dampen the sun's rays. I feel happy when I look up at the view.
6/25/12: I hear my pencil crying out to make strokes and create new life, but I cannot swing its tip for the moment. The clouds shroud my range of what exists on the pages, but pesky duties that chain me to this world of creation demand duties to maintain its twisting and contradicting order. I ask myself how can I create a new world and not teach it to grow if the twisting order of my world regulates time? I already know that the answer is duty and selfishness from others. I still dangle my chain to this world and thinking when will be the first time I unhook the anchor so I can go to my specified order in this world to help make other worlds out of marks and paper.

Week 10

5/28/12: The day for dead warriors. The toll on the death list is probably higher than what number our computers can manage. The chances of people respecting the dead is when we have a tombstone in a short distance from home. They'll pass by and look at the words decorated in odd font. Some will more likely say hello to tombs with names than to air. There are a few who think power seeps out from their graves ready to be repurposed again. The day for dead warriors is also the day for attention from the living.
5/29/12: We're sorry, the accurate date for this entry is not accurate. If you want to make a $100 bill, please call a business company from another state. If you want a memory recall, its unavailable.
5/30/12: The Spring seal weakens in the sky. Already heatwaves of Summer origin have managed to break through the line. More humans feel compelled to leave Bellingham to spread its good fortune for others. There is someone out there finally ready to go through the initiation of a guardian observing the rocky terrain, and then falling into an illusion and keep saying: "This awesome," and giggle.
5/31/12: This place feels shut off from the rest of the world. Makes you wish the only way to get here would be a secret passage. But then again what does that matter? If anyone stays here forever, they're going to end up as lame people without outside views of the city. Some places even try to act more secluded than Bellingham, but that is just the lingering curse everyone gets.
6/1/12: The man under the bridge found a tent last week. He sets it up underneath a cave of thorn walls, safe from the other sentient animals passing the bridge. There are plenty of black berries to go around, but he lays low to the ground when one with a dehydrated head passes. The eyes indicate the search of meat, not berries. Hands will expand into striking chokers, but they leave and the man leaves his home, pulling out a note pad with a few pages, writing with dying blue ink a folding tent.

Week 9

5/21/12: Their are tales that say WWU was built here because of Bellingham or that Bellingham was built here because of the vision of WWU. Even before the castle was built, knowledge known only to Bellingham was contained here if  new advancements in science ever came up. Some will deny this, but there those who come to Bellingham seeking the secrets that only exist in myth. There is a power that draws in the strong minded and binds them from leaving beyond the Whatcom County border. No ill fate happens to those who stay here for too long, but few are starting to become aware of the lure and seek an answer for a century of gathering.
5/22/12: War, that's a topic where the vast majority of the strong minded seem to ignore or go out right against.  I wonder if the reaction of such neuron function because they have no records of war itself. It is after all a survival of comfort are what lead to such disasters. My neuron scans detect no memories of such war; the ones that do are regrettably ignored and the only comfort that feeds them is a special day, whose function is to let authority release their voices. These people seek safety, yet the concept of warfare must be handled with care, not concealed. Oh how these visitors are most strange. I'll  see how they'll react when the chaos spreads.
5/23/12: This installation has led to some unexpected results with these visitors. The resources available to the the visitors have lead to comfortable lives, they do not seem eager to create defenses of their own around the installation compared to other parts of the world I have detected, where lack of proper resources has led made those settlers  remain ineffective and cause damage to itself of their own kind, even when the victims are labeled other. Bellingham is exposed to so many attacks and while I feel the desire to protect these visitors, my protocol demands that I make no such attempts unless ordered by visitors within the limits of my program. Every year I detect them getting closer and closer to my quarters and perhaps when that time comes, Bellingham may indeed become the center of attention forever, unless the other installations are discovered first in that case, the rate of my discovery will be sooner.
5/24/12: I'm beginning to wonder if these visitors will find me interesting at all. A few hours ago I thought today would be the mark of the visitor's first discovery of me and my quarters, but when it actually saw my entrance, it just stood there watching for a few minutes before leaving. I assumed it was caution was the reaction, but my scans showed no brain chemical that would equate such an emotion. There really wasn't any emotion emitting from the visitor, but I've prepared the necessities to go deeper into their chemical activity. If there is a defect in them, then perhaps there is a problem indeed.
5/25/12: Apathy and illusional sensation. Those two words are the result of analysis. It is slowly letting those visitors enjoy the surroundings they have in their disposal. What's worse is that I cannot find any evidence to be the cause of these symptoms, except the ones they call "local," contain brain chemical mutations that is the evidence of energy waves emitting from the beacon. Perhaps my creators did not expect the long effects of the visitors they seeded on this planet a million years ago while still unable to comprehend my creator's actions or existence. An assumption would be to keep these visitors docile to prevent setbacks my creators's plan, but I have no knowledge to understand their motives. Its been so long since they left to fight this Choas that I have little knowledge of how to handle the situation. Perhaps if I shut down the beacon, these visitors will be more active and soon take action for my responsibility. No I need to save as many visitors as I can before the this Choas comes back. That my creators made sure I was aware only for me to find the reasons for myself.  
5/26/12: I am their child. The creators always told me I was one of their children, but now that the vistors or Humans have been living in Bellingham, my studies have shown me that they depart their "primary" knowledge to their own offspring. The creators have told me that I must fight the Chaos they are now fighting, of course that was 50,000 earth cycles since I last saw my parents. I'm told that the Chaos is locked away on this planet, I have no idea of their idenity. My makers believe that all creations must learn problems of their own in order to understand. Yet they tell me and the other creations left on this planet to help the life here and defeat the remaining Chaos. The one thing I find odd with their departing orders was the symbol used to represent the Chaos species. The symbols uses stresses of the organic communicating tongue outside the Creators or visitor languages. What I regret most was that I made this discovery two thousand years ago. That was during an unknown intelligent lifeform had visisted the Earth then and departed a short time later. I regret for having taken this visitor with a higher priority. I've now started searching for any audio communication matching the Chaos audio. I can only hope I'm not late in detecting the danger.
5/27/12: Contamination. Disastorus contamination. There are several installiations on Earth infested with Choas. It is being expressed by certain visitors. I've alerted the others of my discorvery though I have had no contact. Messengers have been sent into space with this recording, in hopes they can follow the trail where my creators have left behind. Another set of messengers will alert the visitors of our prescence and assist in preperations manage when Bellingham's engines are fully online. Unfortunatly, the beacon must be shut down to prevent any Chaos infltrtors come in and rewrite other visitors. These are my children, I must have them uphold the title the creators left behind. I fear of being alone on a barren and quiet planet. If the makers see this, please help.

Week 8

5/14/12: Sooner or later, Belligham is going to the last great town along the border. It won't even be a town. Lynden, Blaine, will just be reduced to cottages out in the wilderness. Every man is going to put in cyborg arms and all the woman will want to look like angles, says the kid writing this stuff down on lists to avoid writing easy work.
5/15/12: I got a letter from the bank today. It says I spent $80 in a dream chat last night. Now I don't remember having to talk to anyone in my sleep, but according to them, I guess I did or they think I did. Who at the bank knows I even exist?
5/16/12: I decided to make a dramatic powerful pose of looking down at the bay from the hill, but for some reason I started laughing and didn't do it. Its funny that we wish to be powerful just so we can mock it like a joke.
5/17/12: Damn it! I was dreaming again, but what was I dreaming about? Did I even have it? The bill says I was in some woman's head where I talked to her in a chicken suit. Do I even know this woman? Does she like me? Is this how I imagined bumping into someone attractive? Damn it, I'm doing it again.
5/18/12: Its funny if you think you were abducted most of the week whenever you fall asleep. You'll always find the sky a little or drastically different every morning. You'll wonder if you're on a completely different planet known by the abductors, if they place actors of people you know or thought you know. You'll start to think what is the purpose to wake up the next day, if there is no routine in your schedule. You'll wonder why to progress if you want to make change. Then you'll wonder when to stop thinking and follow your protocol.
5/19/12: Energy reserves are depleting due to the process of half spring-half summer conflict, will reboot momentarily.
5/20/12: The construct known by the visitors as "Bellingham," has absorbed much of the energy of from the low-level visitor constructions. It must be trying improve its chances when the program will reach on launch day. My makers have no idea whether this plan of their will succeed or fail when the containment seals finally fail and the ancient occupants will use what the visitors have made. I wonder if those poor creatures understand to problem that they have stepped on for their entire lives. Even with the sonic beacons increases its range to draw in more visitors, the builders knew quite well that some will not be compatible with the plan or if they will even survive the purification. Though I must watch and continue protocol if I can save anyone.       

Week 7

5/7/12: They say Western Washington University is the only castle left in Bellingham, or at least some old crazy English guy once said to some stranger which somehow magically reached my ear. But the attention is not me, its about WWU's castle origins. This is a one of kind tale the historians would love to scoop up with their ears. Though it can orally be told, though I don't understand the reason.
5/8/12: The castle was once a single building of what is now called Old Main. It was a bastion for girls in Bellingham, men was forbidden to enter, because someone calling themselves "Some Johnny," decided to scare the girls, because they were lonely because he thought: "That's not the manly way to go," because a man felt weak without a woman, because he was already acting like a jackass, because he thought that's what woman liked, because he wanted to act smart, because he didn't know how to behave around them, because he didn't want to be cut off from them forever, because he's just some crazy old man.
5/9/12: Some crazy old man or Some Johnny missed the days when his mother took him the daycare up at WWU. He can only remember meeting gorgeous woman and how each one would hug him when they saw him. The land was different on a ground covered in bricks and the distance between Bellingham and here always seem to pull further away until he thought it would be better to the have a great plane of land and bay wedged in between.
5/10/12: He spend so much time at castle WWU that he was almost done becoming a professor though no one acknowledged his status with his outfit of the myth/legend division or that his office was 3/4th brick with cardboard doors and a gray tarp. Only one student could get in and many wanted it because it cost a can full of  beans and required to bring in a glamour magazine to class. His knowledge of myths around WWU where sought after by all types of students, but he told them they won't get extra credit if they found an artifact.
5/11/12: "Long ago," said Some Johnny, "Someone made a nice stone water kettle for pickling produce. It made the most sour, bitter tastes for any poor whose's food was starting to rot. They even said it could pickle meats, and tasted better than salt. One day, the dumb bastard who made that pot buried it near a cliff on Seahome hill and forgot where he buried it after he won the lottery. If you find that pot, you could be a king for the poor and bloody." He then started picking his toes, leaving his students speechless and unsure if they should leave.
5/12/12: Some Johnny laid in the sun in an empty red square. He didn't know what to do, and not sure why he was still alive. He thought of making a garden, but the idea of making beer was a better idea.
5/13/12: Get this, Some crazy old guy decides to walk down to little Squiliqum beach and walk along the shore until he found a bunch of big rocks and a tree shade. Then he just sat under that shade like it was his throne. He never moved even when some gangster started drawing marks around his face, but the punks left after seeing the veins around his eyes go purple and the pupils shrunk to dots. Yesterday, I go to check out the old guy myself and I only found his cloths laying on that rocky throne.    

Week 6

4/30/12: Spring and Summer always had problems setting up business in Bellingham. Spring would always wait for Winter to pack up and give a graceful leave to move to the next portion of the Earth. Summer would come way too early but always left over other portions of land behind to attract attention for the next destination. That's when the conflict began.
5/1/12: Spring opens the room to Bellingham and feels the ice after chill when Winter left the apartment. The ground feels dry and numb to her hands as she throws in a heat generated gust. She slowly steps into the center of the room and looks down at the city. She gives a twirl and the trees shake and dance, they say with ruffling of their leaves. "About damn time."
5/2/12: The residents crawl out of their homes and many realize that the cold has more moist until it becomes warm gusts. As usual they crawl, walk, then run on the fields, signaling all the others its time to be tree huggers again. Spring makes her rounds everyday, setting up her gusts in key spots, memorize the spots that must ignite on certain days, making sure she throws a bone to weather analysts, and making sure there will always be a chill in the air. She dances as she moves from spot to spot, invisibly in the sky, having the tempting thoughts of knocking down power lines or safety hazards of art to fall down, though Fall may have a problem with that. "I'll think I'll take a nap," she said.
5/3/12: The heat wave is what wakes her up in the morning. She sees the sky bland and blue, nothing left to dim the sun's rays. "That bitch," said Spring seeing residents of Lake Whatcom jump into water all around the shore. "Summer," she yells, "Summer where are you?" Then she notices a massive concentration of heat in the cliche wheat fields. Summer, all in her naked hot form. Naked as proof of her nipples, half-asleep, and unable to detect Spring coming down like a meteor of gust. 
5/4/12: Dry grass legs fly off by the wave of gust. It doesn't matter, Summer took away what little water they had left. Summer cover her nipples as Spring's wind tires to yank out her hair. A question doesn't need to come up. Spring just blast more gusts at Summer until she leaves, but she lays back on the ground and yawns. She is forced to wake up a week later from rain and starts to shrink in size and the wrinkles begin to show.
5/5/12: It rains, rains, rains, and still rains all over Bellingham each drop hitting a ground sends a message back to Spring, who now sits inside the largest cloud in the region. Her listen to every update, and she holds a piece of hot charcoal, squeezing it and smelling the smoking sizzle. Several downfall operations end with failure where none can find Summer in whatever hot spot corner to be considered. Reports of prayers and energy containing deeps huffing sighs bounce off her head. The rain continues and she bring the next set of directions to the next set of drop troops.
5/6/12: Summer hides inside anyone's mind who wants to close their eyes in the day and their skin begins to automatically burn within limbs. Her fragmented pieces get smaller with each one walking or running in the rain. She talks under every hoists mind thinking of doing all the freedoms in the hot skin bare season. The stability of progression fails and Spring's time is up, ordering the clouds to department to the next destination.

Week 5

4/23/12: The community image of anti-war protesters, tree hugging people, political corporate free territory is the perfect target for green politicians and green corporations. They set up their business signs and put "Caring for sale," in big letters. People follow the lure and listen to their proposition. After saying big artsy words, the clerks tell the customers how much they owe. The customers think, but remember they're for the green.
4/24/12: Sometimes I don't know why the Mother is rude to me. I make sure she is with me when it is feeding time or loving time. I've been practicing my singing yesterday, they tell me to quit meowing but I reached the Son at least. He's the only fan who will scratch my cheeks and play with my fur. He always changes the name for me, but I am me. I don't need to be called a anything or categorized as Cat.
4/25/12: The cherry blossoms bloom, Japanese fest has begun. Quickly, grab a bag of green tea and start a fire under the tree. Next buy a large batch of whatever fish and a rice cooker. Then brew tea, make a grill and make 60 rolls of sushi. Then eat and drink until your belly wants to crack open its shell.
4/26/12: Bellingham is a pilgrim's journey for monks. The path starts for whoever walk away from civilizations and walk up to the hills. There at the top of any hill, one must take everything they see within a second and draw it out from memory. They those who look at the view down below become guardians, but then the fun of living the town brings them back down.
4/27/12: The frequency feels weak these days , the creative blog here is shifting its schedule like factories with huge heat stoves and every person standing in one part of the row, putting part a - 82k then repeat again and again. The curse for such yearnings is from the spirits being released from their physical corpses of industry by the Bellingham bay. They command standardized order and encourage students to support the practice of ST tests. Predicting for us to remain predictable.
4/28/12: The soul burns to where there is no fuse. The gas energies are re-shifted into a crystallized tree branch. The soul simply wants power to be fleshy again. Run anywhere at great speed, and feel the burdens of being alone.
4/29/12: Once upon a time, Victorians journeyed to Bellingham and each said: "I say, tis a wonderful place to build houses." One eventually came to place a high-yet low quality flag on a hill and said. "I declare this land as the New United Kingdom of America." Then some drunk lard shot the flag stamper's pig and started a war between English and American citizens, or that's what the Tongue Waggler said.

Week 4

4/16/12: The rain comes but it isn't cold. It encourages the heat with a sizzling passion to evaporate when the sun comes out. Then come down from the sky to feel the rush. Soaking the ground wet to feel its own watery high.
4/17/12: On sunrise mornings, the sea tries to be as silent along with the mist. The boat folk wait for the first seagull to scream before hoisting up the anchors and setting sail.
4/18/12: I thought everyday I would have a task that metaphorically weighed 100 pounds, but today, someone switched the dumbbell.
4/19/12: The misty haze dawn shows you a bread crumb trail to head for the hills and try to look down alone. See if the life of the hermit is not as bad as that.
4/20/12: Sun turns on, sun turns off. Clouds becomes puffy, clouds become haze. Sprinkle, sprinkle, 6-hour distributing downpour. Now the moon doesn't even bother to show its face. Creep.
4/21/12: Saturday becomes a busy day, full of farmers and Victorian, blue-grass, and preaching musicals shape the gathering of community folk. Every vendor hides in a tent and draw out maps to raise their promotions. The happiness of common folk is a farce under the eyes who see dollar bill markings.
4/22/12: The Sunday comes, but the log entry must be denied in the name of laziness and quiet. All church folk gather to say hello to God in versions 1.2, 1.7, and 2.9. The latest version though always has the biggest crop.

Week 3

4/9/12: The days get brighter in Bellingham and the mountain lay down so that everyone can see the ocean and demand we become sailors, not farm folk. The ocean mirror accepts the invitation of the orange favored pick of the season sky. The waters can only pretend to be the sky, but only if they allow it.
4/10/12: Whatcom County contains the essence of so many mountain secrets where temples from ancient times could've have hidden at the top of Mt. Baker. One with purpose to train the body and have your voice shout down the mountain and have power over others. But now people fear too much about their voice giving destruction and the fear allows them to be swayed from the voice of nature, until someone reaches the top of the mountain again.  
4/11/12: Down the street of Holly, there is a nerve cluster of the forgotten or brains that have been taken away by the repo folk. They should've seen this coming, but they couldn't remember of seeing this coming. They're the toughest sobs or dobs out there. They can sleep on cement, survive with only coins, and can get around almost anywhere. I want to help them come back to living behind walls, but then I stop when I remember they go around almost anywhere.
4/12/12: The haze of an April morning has a small enviousness moment of being its winter haze again. That the misery of winter with a golden glow of hope is what brings excitement for Bellingham. To know we are fighting the gloom and feel we have something to protect, but a sunny day would do the same as well.
4/13/12: Now that you've been walking around Bellingham for a few days, you'll notice that the daytime is devoid of most human activities and its more active at night. From what we hear of our local scientists, there is some pheromone in the air that makes people feel sleepy in the afternoon, but at night, they are all alive and ready to work. Here work just means having fun, since the Bellingham public thought "We already have shelter. Why not party and make beer?"
4/14/12: Bellingham contradicts the feeling for people wishing to live in this college town forever. The name sounds funny, like a pig who wished to be a sailor for the seas. A pig sensitive of other people's comments or anyone who touched his belly. Bellingham should be the name for a talking pig, nothing more.
4/15/12: The old buildings down town still stand to show Bellingham's former glory of old life. We wish we could stay in time where town a forest could learn to co-exist, but dominance mixed with business wishes to build safe docile environments in an artificial realm. Promoting us to keep active instead of the forest lazily grow and sloth with drowsiness.  

Week 2

4/2/12: They say Bellingham is the Canada of America. The last transition before going deep into the territory of what some call America Jr. I know there will be a time before Canada invaded our territory through purchase, but they seem to build settlements around our gas stations. You're welcome BC.
4/3/12: Fairhaven always to try to build a portal linking to Old Victorian England, but that didn't work out so they did the next best thing. Simulation. Remember when you're walking through Fairhaven, you'll believe you're speaking and acting like a English, but its just your reaction to tasty fried salmon and chips.
4/4/12: In Bellingham, the transformation between bay to lake is equal to twenty year-old computer's loading speed. Every spot feels old and forgotten yet relativity new at the same time. Its a strange land where I wish to live and don't feel I should belong to this mysterious artificial construction.
4/5/12: As new house models rise and spread throughout the city, the Victorians still hold ground. Each house full of pride of old natural wood decorations. If one looks closely at this battle of reconstruction, it simply follows the pattern of natural vs artificial.
4/6/12: WWU looks like some castle built by a long forgotten civilization and now rediscovered and re-purposed for education services. Yet I wonder if something more goes on underneath the bricks. Secrets forgotten and artistic monuments are the only link to the real complex of WWU.
4/7/12: The real April Fools Joke is when you wake up in the morning, you still see frost in the spring.
4/8/12: You know you're lazy when you read and you can't help but look of a window in Bellingham and then go back to sleep. I wonder if there is a coffee Easter egg.    

Week 1

3/28/12: The brewery fumes of black ash smoke, but I'm hearing music and people saying "Island time." I can smell the thickness with a leftover hint of pork. I don't seem to bother calling the fire department, though I see a twitcher clicking and making flames come out of he/she, I don't care, hand. It starts burning the weeds around the street lamps. It gets closer and closer to the brewery and I starting guessing it will lite the place on fire. I think I should call the cops, but the battery to my phone is dying.
3/29/12: I sleep, but I have to keep my eye open at the clock. Downtown never wakes up until 10:30 in the morning. Before that, I can find all sorts of rituals on the street. Yet their sites are empty when I arrive and I only smell ass.
3/30/12: Why is it whenever I look at Lake Whatcom I want to be able to walk on water? (Not in the religious way.) I know right now, some other kid wants to walk on top of the lake, and right now, someone else is thinking of an floating invention in their cliche basement lab. It'll blow up on them anyway.
3/31/12: Views always make you think you're on top of the world. But no one ever tells you how messed up it will make you feel when you look down. Seeing a lake and the sea at the same time is scary. I get a bunch categories mixed up with a sight like that. Don't believe me, fine. Walk up Academy Road and tell me otherwise.
4/1/12: Sometimes I wish cars were destroyed. They're lazy slobs that can carry us around faster than most, but we have to move their lazy wheel limbs to get them going. They're always picky eaters, always want the same dino-fuel drinks and having a fit when we no longer have any left. They growl like they can be low maintenance creatures, but they want the latest fashion parts in the specific car shops otherwise they don't feel pimpish enough. We enable them to be our running legs and the cars don't seem to care how anyone else is thinking. They bully bikes to curb of the street and get a little carried away with certain accidents, but hey we all say its the driver's fault. There is hope we have to make this dream into a reality. One biker, branded the with tattoos on his hind legs stating: "Fuck" on left leg, "Cars" on right leg.