"They say when you play Microsoft CDs backwards, you'll hear Satanic messages. That's nothing--if you play one forwards, it install Windows."

Someone on IRC had that as their quit message.

Short Story

Most people probably don't notice, but at an intersection, the traffic lights don't alternate at the same time. There's a moment when the lights on all four sides are red. And if you walk up to this unknowingly, you get confused, because you expect the lights on at least one side to be green. But it's unnerving when you can't cross at all. I notice those moments of red, of time being slowed, of capture and imprisonment. I notice them because I'm always in a rush. I always need the lights to be green, so that I can get to point B as quickly as possible. If there's anything in my way, I don't get angry, or frustrated, or even sad. I just get uncomfortable because I feel that it shouldn't be that way. I feel like my life should be easier than that. I feel like the lights should always be green.

There was one time when the red lights lasted too long, unnaturally long. I had to get to class. I was in a rush from my apartment, and it's not like there was a final or midterm or anything like that. I just had to get to class. Because if I don't have to get to class, where will I be going?

The lights have to be green. They will be green if I will them to be.

I went up to the intersection in front of the campus. I got there just as the opposite set of lights turned red. My foot left the curb and hit the asphalt road. I was about to push forward with my other foot when I realized that the lights were still red. Still red, not green, not letting me pass just yet. Just that cusp, that point between going forward or not going at all.

Still red. It should turn green any time soon. But still red.

I looked around me. Everyone else was waiting patiently. They weren't looking at me, but I felt awkward because my foot was already off of the curb, ready to jump forward when the light turned green. Any moment now. Still red, so I decided to look less of a fool and lift my foot back onto the curb.

And then I noticed why no one was looking at me: none of them were moving at all. Everyone stood completely still, except for me. In fact, nothing whatsoever was moving. Cars had stopped in their tracks, leaves had stopped rustling, there was no sound of wind or animal or man. I waved my hand in front of a girl carrying a notebook. She didn't flinch. She kept on looking forward, looking at the light with the red hand that was supposed to change to a little white man at any moment.

A voice behind me interrupted my thoughts. "In a rush?" it said.

I spun around. There was a very short man standing there, looking up at me, smiling. He looked very kindly, like an elf or gnome out of a fairy tale. He was dressed up in a plain white t-shirt and faded jeans. He had a thick, long beard that went down to his chest in a point, and all the dark brown hair covered his face so that all I could see were his sharp nose and beady, sparkling brown eyes, like little gems in his head.

I raised a brow. "Who are you?"

"The name's Charlie," said the little man with a low, gruff voice that was as kind as his face. "You in a rush?"

"I have to get to class."

"Why?"

"Because it's . . . what I have to do right now."

"The lights are all red," Charlie said. He suddenly erupted in laughter, as if his joke was the greatest in the world, if you could call it a joke.

"Did you do this?" I asked a little angrily.

"I don't do anything, really. I like to not do, if you want to call it that. I am a not-doer."

"Okay. . . . Then why isn't anything moving?"

"Because all the lights are red! Why would you want to move if all the lights are red? That's a little absurd, don't you think?"

"I suppose. When will the lights turn green?"

"Why, when they're supposed to, of course! Isn't that how it's always been? You ask funny questions, man."

I sighed. "Can you just make the lights green? I need to get to class."

"I told you, I don't do anything! If I don't do anything, how can I make lights change color?"

"Alright then. How do I get the lights to change color?"

"Lights don't change color because of things that we do. They change whenever they want, however they want."

"So then how am I going to get to class!" I cried, surprised at the tone and volume of my voice.

"Maybe you never will!" The little man grinned half devilishly.

Suddenly, everything started up again. The sound came back into my ears with deafening speed, like when you're in the dark for a long time and someone unexpectedly turns on the lights. I darted my head around and saw the light with the little white man, and everyone walking and talking. "Excuuuse me!" the girl with a notebook said as she pushed me to move forward. I heard her mumbling something about people being so inconsiderate as to not move when they're supposed to.

I gasped and turned to look for Charlie. He was gone.

I looked at my watch. I was already late. The light with the red hand was already starting to blink, so I made a dash forward to the other side of the street and headed to class.

Friends, I just stayed up until now, almost 5:30am, writing my lab write-up. Perhaps I am not an existentialist anymore. I mean, the price you pay for living life fully is that you have to live it, all its ups and downs included!

Are you ever overwhelmed with the desire to not do something?

That's how I feel about my lab write-up right now. [cusses profusely] AHHHHHHHHH!!! I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS LAB WRITE-UP! Can't I just jump over this semester and land at graduation?

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuuuuuuuuuuck!

Phantom Planet, keep me sane. That's the difference between breaking the bank and just breaking even, making a living and making a killing. . . .

Dude. I'm hella going to start writing my second novel, but the crazy thing is that this will not be the sequel to The Union of Bodies, for those of you who have already read the manuscript for that first novel of mine. This will probably be entitled Marani and will take place more than 700 years earlier. Here are the first two paragraphs, which I wrote tonight:

"This is a story about a world that is not our own. It is not about beginnings, nor about ends, for only the Guardians may talk about such things with any truth. But in many ways it is the story of what has happened and what will happen, for it is history, and history speaks of futures and possibilities.

"It is the story of Marani, the great leader of the rebel army who, during that dark time in Reguva over six hundred anoms ago, rose up against the tyrannous king Krueg'Kra and brought freedom back to the people of the world. In these pages are a retelling of her childhood, of how she was raised by her village in the country of Sonavenas, and how she came to know the people who would teach and train her to become the greatest general in the history of Reguva."

I noticed that the most common combination to remain politically correct is one white male, one white female, and one black male. Like, uh, the new Power Rangers, or the recent Mod Squad, or the Dell interns. But this combination is subtle, 'cause it still ensures that the majority is white and male, while allowing for the token minorities to "hang out." Go figure.