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04/01 Direct Link

'Hey.'

'Hi.'

'You know...I've been wanting to tell you something for a long time.'

'Ok...'

'It's just...I think that you are the most beautiful person in the world. Every time I see you, I smile. I can't help myself. I hate seeing other people talk to you, because they're taking time that I could be using to talk to you. If that makes sense...anyway. I...want to hug you and never let go.'

'That's really creepy.'

'Sorry. But...I love you.'

'I...I don't know what to say.'

'April Fools!'

'Oh...'

'Yeah...but seriously, I love you.'

04/02 Direct Link
I can feel my brain trying to claw its way out of my skull. It's pulling at the base of my neck, gnawing at my ears, trying to break free from me.

It wants to see the world for itself, without it being tainted by these eyes. Smell the wind and touch the rain.

I'm afraid, Mr Brain, that I still need you for the time being. There are new things to learn and many, many more exams to sit and I can't do those things by myself.

So sit still. Just for a little while. Then you can leave.
04/03 Direct Link
Spending the last two days throwing up is not how I had hoped I would be spending my time.

Then again, most of the things I do I feel are a waste of time. Nevertheless, wasting time does not have to be a waste of time.

I remember that when I was younger, I used to think that when I died, my whole life would be replayed to me as a film with God watching, and he would make comments.

'You spent how much time looking at funny pictures of cats?'

I'm sorry, God. But they were very funny pictures.
04/04 Direct Link
Sometimes, Jason thought, you just have to give in and give up.

So he had. He had politely informed his workplace that he would not be turning up tomorrow. They didn't seem to care. To be honest, they had seemed surprised that he had even worked for them in the first place.

'Well...good luck...'

'Jason.'

'Jason.'

'I've worked here for five years.'

'Really? Five years...'

He then took his mug, which had the inscription 'you don't have to be crazy to work here, but it helps!', and smashed it against the wall before walking out into the new world.
04/05 Direct Link
'I don't really feel human anymore.'

'That's a very human thing to feel.'

'Is it?'

'Of course it is. We all worry about not being fully human. About not thinking and feeling the right, correct things. We're afraid that everyone around us is being more human than we are, living life better than we ever can and all we can do is run behind them, trying to keep up with their humanity. In reality, what does it actually mean to feel human? Nothing, really. Human is what you make of it. Live how you like. That's all you can do.'
04/06 Direct Link
'Mr virus?'

'Yes David?'

'I am fully aware that you are not a sentient being, meaning that by actually talking to you will not help, but I would really appriciate it if you would leave me alone.'

'Well, as you have previously stated, I can't really help.'

'I know. But...I planned to do so much. Work and revision. Grapple with my double bass. Paint with inks. I mean, I would only have done half off that stuff anyway, but at the moment, I have done nothing at all. Which is not helpful. Not helpful at all, to be honest.'
04/07 Direct Link

Jason returned home and started packing his things. There was very little to pack. Possessions were limited, by space and by funds.

When he finished, he set fire to the carpet in the living room. It seemed to be the natural course of action. Jason wanted nothing to be left behind.

His plan was to travel to India, telling stories as he went. He wanted to meet a hermit, who he hoped would be able to unfold the mysteries of life to him, and tell him where he should dowith his life. 

Jason wanted to find himself.

 

04/08 Direct Link

There is always a time where you go along, do something, day something and it means nothing to you. No warning or reminder floats in your head that maybe you need to be saying or doing something else.

It's like your brain is cruising in an ocean, and suddenly you get sucked into a whirlpool and it is only just before you take your first breath of sea-water that you remember the signs that you paid little attention to a few nautical miles back.

This is not such a drastic situation, but nevertheless...

Happy birthday, for yesterday. Sorry.

04/09 Direct Link
I talked to a woman today. It seemed to me that her life had not been going in the direction that she had hoped it would.

We discussed the harsh realities of life. How you either sink or swim. How close we have come to drowning. The hurst endured.

It wasn't all gloom. There was talk of New Orleans, wanting to travel, wanting to see Europe and Lake Gada and history and beauty. All those things that seem to be difficult to grasp.

I hope she doesn't drown. Just stay strong and keep on swimming. 
04/10 Direct Link
Just know that, if I could, I would pick you out of there
And place you down by lake Gada,
Where the waves sing in latin as they worship at the shore.

I woud take you to places carved out of history,
Where the dead mutter their lives in a non-descript tongue
And crumbling monuments try to cling to a glory already gone.

If I could, Mondays would be burned over a roasting fire.
They would scream as they dissolved into a nothingness and we Would finally be free of their rule.

Just know that I would, if I could.
04/11 Direct Link
Jason had decided to hitch-hike to a hermit. Hermits seemed to have it good.

People would bring them rice, come for an intellectual talk and then leave. You never had to deal with small talk or the follies of central government or shoes. Jason hated shoes.

You never wore gloves all the time, so why shoes and socks? It just dulls sensation. Everything should be experienced to its upmost. Even through feet.

Jason had no idea where to find an actual hermit. He would try looking in India first. India seemed to be the place to go for such things.
04/12 Direct Link
There was something. A small ember in my chest that wanted to smoulder words onto a page.

A few extra beats a minute as I hesitantly picked up a pencil and scratched down some symbols. It was not right. Those words were wrong, forced, too mechanical.

The fire dwindled until all that was left was the memory of a flicker of a flame.

These words on a page stare at me accusingly. They are monsters, mutants, concieved by an ill mind that can only look upon other beautiful words and shudder at the shining majesty that he cannot re-create.
04/13 Direct Link
I remember going on holiday when I was much younger. There was a girl watching me play badminton with my Dad. He offered her his racket and we started playing. She had the biggest smile in the world. So big that it stretched from Australia to Russia. So warm. So very warm.

She started following me around. I tried to avoid her, because, in reality, I'm a horrible person.

Whenever she saw me, she would give me her smile.

I wish I had taken it. She was gangly and had red hair. I miss her more than I care to say.
04/14 Direct Link
Jason had managed to find a hermit in India. He lived on a hill far enough from civilisation to avoid hearing the noise of the traffic, but close enough for people to bring him rice.

The hermit offered Jason some tea, which tasted sweet, just like a compliment.

'Hermit, I have something I wish to ask you.' Jason said.

'And what would that be?'

'I was wondering whether you would be able to tell me what the point of my life is?'

The hermit sat in contemplation for a while, staring at the landscape full of vitality and wonderous life.
04/15 Direct Link
I grew a beard over the holidays. All by myself. Without hormone suppliments or anything.

It was strange. The top half of my face looked rather young, whilst the bottom half looked older.

The beard was not wonderous or magnificent. It was rather small, but I liked the way it felt when I rubbed my hand against it. It felt like a really old carpet.

I've shaved it off. My face is back to being slightly smooth. It's back to being younger. The carpet has been removed in place of vinyl flooring.

Goodbye, my beard. Until next time we meet.
04/16 Direct Link
'You know, Feste, I think you got it right.'

'What did I get right?'

'The whole 'wind and the rain'. The 'hey ho'. The 'just get on with it' thing. The idea that life isn't what you expected it to be, but that's the point. You dream of an idealised existence where everything is perfect and you are happy all the time, but that only ever happens in a story.'

'Or a play.'

'Or a play. You. my friend, are very wise.'

'Why thank you, sir. Is my wisdom worth anything to you?'

'Trying to get money off me?'

'No...'
04/17 Direct Link
The hermit had finished his contemplation.

'You know, I don't think I can tell you.'

This didn't really surprise Jason. Nothing was ever simple.

'Why can't you tell me?'

'Because it's your life. You are the one who has lived it, not I. you have grown in that body and thought your own unique thoughts. If there is anyone on this earth who is qualified to tell you, then it must be you.'

Jason sighed.

'Well, thank you for you time.'

'Hang on.'

'Yes?'

'Now I have a question of you.'

'Go on.'

'Why did you really come here?'
04/18 Direct Link

I thought I heard someone trapped in a tree, once.

I walked all the way up to it and tapped it on the trunk. Nothing happened. Pressing my ear to the bark, I tried to focus in on the noise that I had heard. There was nothing. The gentle sighing, masking a greater anguish, had gone.

Nevertheless, I climbed the tree, all the way to the top. I hung from the thinnest of branches and tried to find that noise.

Eventually, the branch snapped and I was quickly reconnected with the ground.

I never found that person trapped in there.

04/19 Direct Link
Someone nearly found me today. I could hear them tapping away at the trunk of the tree.

I've been trapped in here since I had a form of consciousness. Surrounded by wood. Listening to the gentle pulse of the sap as it slowly climbed through the branches and into the leaves. I've heard the gentle creaking as the tree grew ever higher.

He nearly found me. He even clambered to the top of the tree. It threw him off. It always does. For some reason, the tree doesn't want me to leave.

Someone will find me. One of these days.
04/20 Direct Link
If you ever want to see human irrationalism at its most glorious, simply look up any article about genetic modification with a 'comments' section.

One such article was about banannas that could potantially be treated to act as a vaccine against certain illnesses.

This seems like a nice, noble thing with a wonderful potentail to help people. Others do not see it this way.

I quote. 'this is a diabolical scheme to kill of mass numbers of people.'

I'm pretty sure it isn't. I mean, I don't know for a fact, but I'm pretty sure mass murder wasn't the purpose.
04/21 Direct Link
Jannet played in a band. It was a band based on the ancient practise of following around a man or a girl for a repective partner and playing them love songs.

However, Jannet's band had a slight twist. Rather than lovers hiring them, it would be those who had recently broken up, and felt hard done by.

They would then follow around the dump-er, playing songs such as 'You need me, but I don't need you' and 'Since U been gone'.

It was, in general, satisfying work. Jannet knew that she was helping others to find some closure.
04/22 Direct Link
I wonder if devils want our souls out of malice.

Maybe it's not like that. Maybe they need our souls. Like an addiction.

They will do anything, say anything, perform any act that your poor little mind can think of in order to obtain your slithery, scaly soul that wriggles around like a fish out of water.

Maybe they need souls to live. Need them to survive, to make their hearts tick over and brain keep firing.

If that is the case, then we should pity them. Lose the war metaphors when dealing with the devil. Try helping them instead.
04/23 Direct Link

It was Jason's turn to think.

'To be honest, I'm not sure. I mean, a month ago, I decided to piss my life away in a...I don't know...nihilistic defiance. A terrible blaze of glory. I just wanted to stop everything. You know, we work hard for the opportunity to work harder. Is that all there is to life? There must be more, otherwise we would all be born in a pin-stripe suit. Is happiness incomplatible with modern living?'

'I'm a hermit. What do you think I'm going to say?'

'Well, it shouldn't have to be. It shouldn't.'

04/24 Direct Link

Is this all I am now? Just this machine that works? With the single purpose of getting into a specific academic institution?

Is that now my entire identity? Is this it? Isn't there more? Shouldn't there be more?

All these questions running around and still there is no answer and there will never be an answer because you have to keep working everyone says so and everyone can't be wrong so you do it and keep doing it even though you want to sleep and do other things but the work just keeps on coming and coming and coming and...

04/25 Direct Link
Sleep is my mistress, now.

She is all I think about. Every waking moment I dream on consuming her. When the night slides into the sky, I cannot resist her calling. I wander to her arms and embrace and there is nothing I can do to stop myself sinking into her, deeper and deeper until I no longer know who I am or where I am or what is happening.

I want her. I crave her. She can have me any time. Without her, I am a shivering wretch. She is my drug, my one and my all.

I need her.
04/26 Direct Link
The laughs.

His laugh was a source of constant intrigue.

It would start of like this. A 'ah-hu-hu' and then it would just keep going on in that frame, like a broken record.

Sometimes, it would go high. Very high. So high that you felt that it could burst at any moment, leaving little flakes of giggles all over the place. That laugh was more of a 'ah-ah-hu-ah'.

Then there was the forced laugh. A 'huh', pushed out with a sound like damp paper. It was there to indicate politness rather than mirth or enjoyment.
04/27 Direct Link
I can hear the tune in my head.

It starts of slow and beautiful and ever so slightly flashy. A diminuendo in style until a simplel chord is all that is left.

Then, into a fast, brash and horrific hoedown. Spikey chords hammering down all over the piano with a constantly moving bass line. Possibly in octives.

I can hear it all, up here in my mind. Every little note and rythm, how it should all fit together and become this one, satisfying piece of music.

I just can't get it down. My hands are imperfect. The music is stuck.
04/28 Direct Link
Where is April go?

I spent so little time with her. So wrapped up in my own thoughts and worries that she glided through my fingers without me noticing.

I should have paid her more attention. Sher certainly deserves it. She is most beautiful and encaptiviating, Never the same and never obvious, her temprement is beautiful and terrifying.

Now her days have drawn to a close and she will no longer be able to grace my door. I would ask for one last dance with her, but I'm afraid there is no time.

Goodbye, my April. Until the next year.
04/29 Direct Link
'Hey April.'

'Hey David.'

'I would just like to apoligse for ignoring you. It's just that I've been getting lots of work and exams are coming up and they're really important and...sorry.'

'That's ok David. I found someone else, to be honest.'

'Oh really? What's he like?'

'Well, he can be quite cold sometimes. You know, freeze me out. But he is really beautiful and makes me smile. He takes my breath away.'

'He sounds nice.'

'He is nice. I'm glad to have met him.'

'May I ask his name.'

'He's called December.'

'Really? I probably should have guessed.'
04/30 Direct Link
Jason returned home. What else could he do?

His house that had burnt down was now being rebuilt. It make him feel sick, watching it rise again.

He never again went inside a building. Nor did he ever get another job. Jason travelled around, relying on the kindness of others for survival. If they wanted, he would tell them stories, about his travels.

Sometimes, when he met someone who he thought could handle it, he would ask them the ultimate question. The question that was the key to life.

'Have you ever noticed how many shades of green there are?'