06 october 2000
addendum

here we go again
writing double in a day
can't imagine why
geeku by me

Breathe deep, acknowledge horniness, don't smoke, smell life, drink to the point of liver damage, go home, stare at the walls, contemplate sleep, can't complain.

I need to shave, and I need to get rid of these fucking glasses. Take the picture above ... september of '98. Clean shaven, that's a good thing. Wearing these fucking ugly glasses, my backup pair, leftover from high school. And I'm wearing those same glasses now, have been for months. They're indestructable, and that's their one positive point. It's a negative as well, because if not for their indestructability, I'd have purchased a nice new pair of specs by now, something more fitting to me, whoever "me" is right now, caught somewhere between past and future, me and I, truth and whatever.

Why did I stop smoking again? I don't like myself enough to stop smoking. I'd rather abuse the hell out of myself. I don't like feeling this good, this sensitive, this clean, this horny, this itchy.

Itchy. Yes, I'm itchy. And it's one of those itches that I can't scratch, and it's constant. I can't stand it. The only cure is self-disrespect, or sex. One or the other. They're kinda synonymous to me lately, if that makes any sense.

Honestly, I'd rather stare at the walls than write right now, or rite, wright now, mental masturbation aside, something big needs to happen in my life soon, either I need to get seriously laid, or the band needs to take off, or perhaps a near-death experience, or I'll scratch one of those lottery cards and win fifty grand, or some guy will ask me for my wallet late at night and I'll be too slow to produce it and he'll shoot me in the head but miss my brain and trigger some magical synapse that causes me to see clearly the meaning of life or write a hit song that the world will love and will make me Rich and Famous and all of those other things that I couldn't care less about because all I wanna be is HAPPY and I still can't figure out the correct path to that goal.

One thing's for sure though ... I felt a helluva lot happier as a pack-a-day smoker.

06 october 1998: : on a brief hiatus

06 october 1997: seems like solitude : Lost in a swirl of butterfly thoughts I couldn't capture, I stared at the Coast Highway. And I saw the things I see every day, and I finally decided to look at them.

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