once upon a time

While quietly moping around, battling insomnia, I stumbled upon a journal kept at the behest of my 11th grade English teacher, who would pitch a topic and a couple of SAT vocabs for each entry. Older is not wiser, as I apparently made as little sense then as I do now. For example, nearly 12 years ago, on March 2, 1993, I wrote an entry entitled "I'm a Grape-Nut" (careful, it contains a naughty word):

If my freckled and braced face is to grace (or not) a box of cereal to be presented to millions of American shoppers, I would much prefer that my box contains some crunchy bits know as Grape-Nuts.

I guess I choose Grape-Nuts because somehow the cereal is a mimicry of myself.

First of all, its name is totally absurd. Inside the box, there's neither grapes nor nuts. It's like - what's up with that? Who's the advertising genius who came up with that one? I'm like that in a way, considering that I talk to people not there, have fights with air.

Secondly, the cereal is full of sh*t! And quite like me. I'm so loaded with BS sometimes I can't even stand to smell myself. And in a way, I'm physically full of sh*t, and that would really explain why I'm so constipated all the time. Yes, I am full of... it.

Thirdly, it's just so paradoxical. It's full of nutrients yet it tastes so darn grotesque. It just goes to show that I, in a way, can be as contradictory as them Grape-Nuts.