The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

I just awoke from a rather odd dream. Before it closed in a way I deemed it complete, one of the actors in this dream ("The Emperor", I shall call him) called out to me as I slunk away into the mist and shadows: Jagra. As if this term were a sort of devious nickname or alias I had acquired through a notorious lifestyle of trickery.



I looked up the term, seeing as how it was something I had not heard prior in my life.



In Hindu philosophy, Jagra is one of the four states of consciousness a man (or a being) can have. It can be roughly translated as 'wakefulness'. It is that part of consciousness when a person or being can sense this physical universe. Other states of consciousness are swapna, susupti and turiya.

literally! an old Nite writer hand notebook. I unearthed in the recent excavation of my room. Its not even close to being a quarter filled, but each of those pages are bursting with words, thoughts, observations, and poetry. Such bitterness: I LOVE IT!



Since none of them are dated, I'll assume it was over 4 years ago, when I was in the deepest pangs of my half-decade depression: the time before my "admittance".



I hope I never lose this vile tongue of mine, no matter what happens.



but first, I'll need to find my silver gel pen I used to write these entries (as the pages are all black paper).

I'm unsure why I'm even writing this down; But there the body stood, curled as if somnisciently disposed...

There was a small breezing that ruffled its black fur and a lack of blood. I wanted to take it up into my arms and coddle it; I probably would do such even after feeling the powdered remains of what was once its spinal column. I left it in its own right.



Necrophilia: the practice of treating those things dead as if still alive



sick, yet romanticized version, but I think it covers all aspects quite completely

A few interesting odds and ends that have taken place over the last few weeks: For one, my first pair of glasses (ones that actually help correct a vision problem).



This has needed to get done for some time. I've been sickeningly near-sighted for the past year or so. This made for fun and exciting car trips which nearly stopped the hearts of a few of my passengers. I enjoy the frames I found; They are near the same as the faux pair I have on in a few of my pictures.



Class has also started again. Nine credits of Chem and Bio. Since both included labs, I decided to try two different, yet similar approaches to determining my partner. For the first attempt, I was first in the door, and took the seat nearest to both the teacher and the entrance. It took until nearly the last student funneled in to decide to sit next to me. I'm getting the feeling my partner has her mind set on something in the caring fields. Uncertain which, but she seems much less timid than my previous partner from last year.



I was dosing during the majority of Biology, as the professor was repeating the syllabus verbatim. Instantly perked up when we started doing introductions. The formula was quite simple:



Name

(possible) Major

Something that makes you unique



Oddly enough, most did not answer the last question. No, wait, that's not odd at all, its expected (just as it's expected that I will abuse my use of commas in a given sentence).



There was an interesting thread that one student in particular started: She said she liked guinea pigs.



"Human...guinea pigs"?



I said that much too loud, it seems. I shrugged off the uncomfortable smiles people gave me. Turned to the person sitting next to me and said something along the lines of: "What? Must've slipped"...it was something far more snarky than that, but light-hearted and smiley nonetheless. I'm not cruel, but I do accept the fact that human testing does indeed occur in the biological fields. It happens.



My lab for this class put me with a partner about in equal feel to my other for this semester. We simply arrived at our set locations at the same time, for this instance.



Oh, and by the way:



I'm double jointed in my ankles and,

I can make a mean Hungarian Goulash

(one of these statements is a lie)