Right now, I have more Counting Crow's lyrics running through my head, and Tyr is trying to get to sleep to be ready for his eight AM exam, so I cannot listen to the songs themselves. Maybe I will run off and join the circus, like the little boys dream of in books. Maybe I will continue on my ragged edge, falling to oblivion from this knife. Could I have been lost somewhere in Paris?
All of my rhetorical questions do not add up to worthwhile rhetoric, of which there is a curious shortage, you may have noticed, of late. (Schizotypal people can be characterized by a tendency to use over-elaborate words and phrasings.) Plus, the fact that I just finished The Diamond Age, by Neil Stephenson, and am in the middle of re-reading Preludes and Nocturnes, the first book in the Sandman collection, may have something to do with my choices of words and mannerisms of speach (so to speak, or, rather, so to type). The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain.
I tried to get my sister to read The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett. It is the first book he wrote on Discworld (by which I mean, about Discworld, not whilst physically located upon Discworld). She didn't even make it through the Prologue (which is all of two pages). *sigh* I tried reading it aloud to her (thats how I got her hooked on David Eddings. Which reminds me, I still need to buy her The Diamond Throne for Christmas), but she had an amazing amount of questions about the concepts that were brought up, just in the prologue, concerning the turtle, A'Tuin, and the elephants (sorry, don't remember their names) and astrozoopsychology, as well as astrocheloniology (I think thats how it goes). Anyway, she was very confused, so I gave it up and went back to reading Task Force Blue.
In the unlikely event I think of more to say, I will.