Boredom sets in. I should be working on my card file for Ed Psych. Am I? No, obviously. I'm here. I'm feeling uninspired in the ways of practical application of psychologial theories on education. That ... is a mouth full. Did I mention that I want to be a voice actor? You know, the person that does the voices for animated characters. I suppose it's kind of a silly, childish dream of mine to become a member of the Ocean Group, which is this voice acting company in Canada that does a lot of English-dubbing of Anime. I'm serious. My DJing allows me to practice and perfect all of my voices. I used to talk to myself at night, before I went to sleep. I would allow random words to come out of my mouth, I would try different ways of saying them, different tonations, different dialects and emotions. My brother, who slept in the room next to me until he joined the ARMY ... he must have thought I was going crazy. I'm writing this book, you see, and every now and then I like to verbally act out the scenes that go on. It's kind of like therapy. It's been a long time ... since I've been able to sit on my back porch in the summer and just ... listen to the cicadas. Do they really just only come around once every seven years? I know that some people find the sound of cicadas annoying, but I find it ... soothing. I suppose I might be strange in that sense. Senses ... I've been trying to heighten my other senses. My olfactory sense ... it's already stronger than most people's. At work, I can smell when the grease needs filtering before anyone else, before even having to look at the color to see that it's darker or burnt. Touch ... I love to touch ... everything. Texture is more than people let on. Taste. I'm not so much into that; it's something I need to focus more on, not nearly as sensitive as my other senses. And hearing ... I love to listen to things. As long as they are not loud and sudden - then I feel like jumping out of my skin, or yelling or screaming - to make my own noise to drown it out. But I love ... white noise. It's comforting, and it's difficult to describe. I can't sleep unless I have a fan going in the background - I'm sensitive to whistling, and erratic hums in neon/flourescent lights. The sound of a light sabre is also intriguing. And old movie projectors, with the continuous, fast clicking and hum of moving pictures ... We had one when I was in grade school. I would always sit in the back with the librarian, Mr. Faulk. He was also a friend of my Dad's. Sometimes, afterschool, I would get to go to the library and watch short things like Encylcolpedia Brown. And sometimes, I would press my cheek against the projector and just close my eyes, feel the warmth of the light inside through the metal and listen to the clicks and hum ... Sometimes, when I'm not watching television (I never have time for TV anymore, either, it seems), and it would be on, I would become aggitated by that high-pitched squeal that it makes. I don't like that scratch of the guitar, when it gets to loud ... you know the one I'm talking about, when people play the acoustic, and it "scratches" every time the fingers move to form a new chord ... it bothers me. I have no idea why I'm talking about this. I think that if I was ever forced to spend time in a sensory-deprivation tank, I would go insane. Because then, I would be lost in my own mind. And a lot of times, I'm sure that would be a frightening place to be ... Especially with no place to go. To be honest, I'm scared of silence. Sound is important to me. But for now ... I need to be going and ... getting onto those cards for Ed Psych before I lose my head again ... "He who will not economize will have to agonize." - Confucius