I am sleeping too much. Evil.

Oh, and I helped my mom strip off wallpaper. It was sort of fun actually. Sadly I started to get dizzy, which resulted in headaches later.

Um… yeah. That is likely it.

Labor day will bring family members. Ehhh…

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I guess I read a book of 500 or so pages in a day, or a day in a half. It is hard to tell at the moment, but seeing this, I can only assume it took around that long. Then again I skipped more tedious parts.
Why? It was a story written in 1869. The style back then was to fill half the book up with the story and the other half with bouts of philosophies and silly knowledge that has no relevance whatsoever. Of course, such a form of writing would be considered incorrect these days, and yet it manages to be a great literary work. How silly.
Still, I admit, it was rather good. It also gave sight that if you read to the end, yet made sure not to read the last chapter, you would result in the happier of endings. Read the last chapter, you will have a tragedy. How quaint, no? Heh. Therefore, I took both. I already knew the ending and knew I could spare myself the tragedy by stopping at the second to last chapter… but do I? Of course not. I am one for tragedy. I think my few writings have shown such. It was a nice read, despite tedious at some moment.
I laughed to my mother, the way it was written was similar to how my mind flitted about when younger – I was not medicated. I found great humor in that at the time. I still find it calmingly amusing now.
I was drawn to it, of course, by the infamous character that is lead in that blasphemous story that is finished and yet likely never shall be. Sadly, I lack the great philosophy in regards to how the book went, but then again I wrote my story of different leverage. I guess that shows more of a relief, despite the bit of discomfort. I lack in politics. My mind is unable to comprehend such things. I can follow if told and perhaps get the gist, but… oh hell. Why am I trying to explain something that I alone will understand considering this is a journal? Ha! I’m a clod.
Either way, no matter how I try such a thing as politics in the setting I have chosen are quite foggy. I cannot help it. One cannot write what one does not fully understand or knows. Therefore, the issues of ruling and those other lovely things are simple embellishments littered here and there just so it is known that things are taking place around the character, but they do not particularity deal with said character. Then again, I am not writing the story for social and political enlightenment.
No, the main cause was merely due to a similiarity the two main characters (the literary and the amatuer). The main character of the literary work had a disfigurement. My character did not quite have a disfigurement of such extreme and yet at the same time did. They both had similiar rankings and in a sense similiar origins. Their purposes… different. The characters they interact with… different. I guess I was seeing if there were any real similiarities.
I have done the same before. I read a book written in 1910. There were vague similiarities. Happily, after reading the work, I found not many things were similiar despite there were certain areas of slight relations. Miniscule, but still noticeable.
It seems that whenever I come across something that looks like it could be of similiarity to my story, I read it to assure myself that the text is not terribly close to how my story goes. That would be utterly depressing. I have seen many things that will be automatically be catagorized under a more famous title. Some would say, oh it is a modern/alternative take on _____ (fill in the blank of some well known title.) That would be too depressing if the same went with my story.
Then again, I can already see it being compared to famous stories. I stumbled upon such stories! I noticed, I read and I compared. For me, I find faint relief when I see only the same sort of premise and yet not completely. At the same time, it is a bit disheartening to find since that small thing will tie it under a catagory of some well known work.
The first contender I ever worried of was the fairy tale “Beauty and the Beast”. The beginning of the story seems similiar to the story I have noticed. Over time though, that soon ends once it has come to somewhere between pages 60 to 90 in the form of WindWord pages. After that it drifts into something different from that happy fable. Sigh…
Well, my head feels weird. Nothing new, it is… but lately weird, strange, et cetera is what has become of my head. I seem to have fogs, dull headaches, fatigue and still I have been sleeping far too much. It is burdensome and I am beginning to feel much a sloth due to it. Yes, yes… I get my chores done, but once they are concluded again I collapse onto my bed and slumber ridiculous amounts. How pathetic. It is amazing I woke up enough intervals to read that blasted story. Then again, how much of it have I retained to the point of keeping it in a clear sighting of mind? Not well, not well.
I really should lay down and sleep I suppose. I am quite aware that I am rambling through keys and have not strayed too far from the comment of how the writer of said text I mentioned to have read recently tends to daddle tediously into some topic that has no reason to be there whatsoever. Then again, this is a journal and I am a chestnut.
Though, yes… I have reason to be tired now, I guess. I went out to get groceries and such hub-bub. I was nutty at that time as well, but it was much fun. I had gotten a jacket whilst my mother and I looked for shirts to give my father. It was in the mid 90’s and I plunked that jacket over my shoulders and slid my arms through the sleeves. I was going around in long khaki pants, a t-shirt, a jacket on top of that and sandals! I loved the nonsense and my mother likely thought me mad. It was a bit hot, but I was just dandy.
Okay… I am out of it.
Sort of.
Notes? My dad is coming down tomorrow. My eldest brother, his girlfriend, my “aunt”, my other “aunt” and possibly the son of the “other aunt” yet also brother of the “aunt” shall come. How complicated! I love my need to keep names out of things. It makes it all the more confusing! Yet, I know. I know!
Damn. I’m becoming far too loopy. Yes. I must be off. Off!