Really freakin tired. Really freakin bored. Really fucking fed up. I'd like to move away now. Thank you. What to do... How about some spanish: Tengo domir para manana, para... yo no say. I don't know if that last part is correct. My father always told me that boredom is the sign of a weak mind. Maybe he's right. I feel like shit. The shittiest shit ever. Don't know why. Body revolting. Revolting? Homonym to revolting: disgusting? Wrong word choice? Body malfunctioning. Mutiny. Angry sinew. My feline's name is Martha. She is INSANE!!! I guess that's what makes her so great. Her CRAZINESS! That is, until she chews through the wire to my precious headphones. Not cool. Not-at-all. Because I need those. I need my music. Maybe to live. At least keep my sanity. Maybe she was jealous, because she never had the music to keep her sane. And now, well, it's just too late for that crazy fuckin cat. Too late indeed. I'm rambling like a drunk. A completely sober drunk. I'm exhausted. And oh so bored. I'm not bored, just tired. I suppose I've done a lot today. Things that I suppose would, in turn, exhaust me. Getting all fired up about society, walking a lot, playing chess, smoking all the time. I love smoking, too much. I really really should stop. This HAS gotten out of hand and should be dealt with. I think I may have cancer. Too much screaming and smoking makes for a rough voice. I'm going to Taco Bell now. I won't eat their food, don't fret, I just want to hang out with people...

Mmmm, yes. I'm at school. I should be in class, but instead in writing on the computer. It's like I'm in high school again. Skipping class all the time. Um, yes, so I had this dream last night that I was modeling. Weird. But it was interesting. They wanted me to wear these shoes, but I didn't like them and didn't want to wear them, so I put on my notorious flip-flops I always wear. Then I realized I didn't have any makeup, and everyone else had, and was wearing lots of makeup. So I felt ugly, not ugly, but not enhanced, and out of place. And I never got to walk down to catwalk either. I think it had something to do with me vs society. Lately, I've been sort of feeling out of place, but not in a bad way, in a comfortable and easy going, that's how you're going to live and this is how I am going to live sort of way. I don't wear makeup, I can't say never, because I do sometimes. It's usually because I think it's a form of artistic expresion, or, and I hate so say it, because I feel like covering something up, and looking pretty like everyone else. I don't know what happened to me this summer, but I just don't care anymore. I'm almost perfectly content with myself. Ya, I'm overweight, and I know if I tried hard enough I could do something about it, but I personally love food. I'm not glutenous, I just like food a lot. It's tasty. I have never felt this way in my entire life. I can't say that I remember not caring about my appearence. I always, for as long as I can recall, have hated myself tremendously, the way I look, act and my figure. But I don't care anymore. And I never really eased out of that mentality, it just changed on it's own, and I'd really like to know how and why. It's odd. That someone like me, me knowing how I am and the many complexes I've attained over the years, namely through my mother, (I love her, but she instilled some of these self-destructive thoughts into my head, that is not to say she didn't give me lots of wisdoms, because she did.) could just not care anymore. Someone who breathed depression and self-hate. I don't understand. But the fact of the matter is, I don't care. And I think I'm simply at a comfortable mean. I don't think I'm stunning or ravishingly beautiful, but I'm not ugly, and beyond all of that, I don't care. That isn't to say I've become some smelly, dirty hippy, but I see what's important in life, and there are far more important things and I. Not to mention what I look like, and what clothes I wear, and if I have the right shade of eyeshadow to excentuate my green eyes and simotaneously bring out the color of my hair and the tone of my lipstick. Ha... Anyway, I was just thinking. Back to go break all the things I've made this semester.

Last night I went to bed at 9:15 pm. Wha!? Yes, that's correct. I was allowed to leave work early, I think it had something to do with me looking like I was about to pass out. And surprisingly, that's exactly how I felt. When I was taking shower after I got home, I did't think I was going to make it. I was completely disoriented. It was like being really stoned, just nowhere as nice. Instead of feeling really nice, I felt like my face was caving in. Anyhow, I sort of felt like I wasted a Friday, but I know I'll have a fun time tonight. It's really hard to stay completely focused on a dream or goal. I'm practically programing myself in order to always have this dream in mind. I'm changing my mentality. I have to stay focused. It's imperative. Well, lots to do today. It's already 7:30 am. I'm burning daylight.

I have a lot to talk about. But I'll only say these two things, and I didn't write either. Having a "golden mean" between utter self denial and utter self-indulgence leads the harmony. And then this:

Although ya try to discredit
Ya still never edit
The needle, I'll thread it
Radically poetic
Standin' with the fury that they had in '66
And like E-Double I'm mad
Still knee-deep in the system's shit
Hoover, he was a body remover
I'll give ya a dose
But it'll never come close
To the rage built up inside of me
Fist in the air, in the land of hypocrisy

Movements come and movements go
Leaders speak, movements cease
When their heads are flown
'Cause all these punks
Got bullets in their heads
Departments of police, the judges, the feds
Networks at work, keepin' people calm
You know they went after King
When he spoke out on Vietnam
He turned the power to the have-nots
And then came the shot

Wit' poetry, my mind I flex
Flip like Wilson, vocals never lackin' dat finesse
Whadda I got to, whadda I got to do to wake ya up
To shake ya up, to break the structure up
'Cause blood still flows in the gutter
I'm like takin' photos
Mad boy kicks open the shutter
Set the groove
Then stick and move like I was Cassius
Rep the stutter step
Then bomb a left upon the fascists
Yea, the several federal men
Who pulled schemes on the dream
And put it to an end

Ya better beware
Of retribution with mind war
20/20 visions and murals with metaphors

Networks at work, keepin' people calm
Ya know they murdered X
And tried to blame it on Islam
He turned the power to the have-nots
And then came the shot
What was the price on his head

I think I heard a shot.
I think I heard a shot.
I think I heard a shot.
I think I heard a shot.

Wake UP!
Wake UP!
Wake UP!
Wake UP!

Wow, worst dream ever... Last night I had this horrific dream. Where does my mind come up with this stuff. Dreams make me think that there are definitely demonic presences. Honestly. I woke up and I thought my heart was going to explode. My chest hurt so badly because it was beating so hard. Seriously folks. It took me about ten minutes to calm myself down to the point where I was normal. I was paralyzed. You know, when you have a terrible dream, and you cannot move, no matter how hard you try. This dream was really fucked up. And I felt a lot of badness in the room when I awoke. So I didn't move. I was all sweaty. It was scary. After about an hour, I'm supposing because I didn't even look at the clock, I turned on the light in my room, and just layed in bed for two more hours. There was something really big running around on the roof, too. Maybe not that big, but I'd say racoon sized. I HATE bad dreams, I get them all the time. I just couldn't believe how fast my heart was racing. And the dream was really vivid. Nothing in the dream happened to me, but I was watching everything. And it was frightening. Very fucked up. The thing I remember the most was when the girl jumped into the car (she was stealing it...I just thought of that) the keys had a little rubber skull key chain. Weird, why was that in my dream, why so much detail. This is the dream: (This begining part is in first person) I walk down the street and come acoss this building with odd, paper signs on the front window. It's a store, and I don't remember what the signs said. I go in, and the walls are mustard yellow, with an orange band following the wall. It's a vintage clothing store. Weird clothes everywhere. Not all vintage. Pocca-dot shorts. The clothes are hung in weird places. They aren't at eye level, there at waist level. I'm looking around the store. The resister in the the middle of the room. In the far left corner there is a section of vintage dolls and stuffed animals, like Rainbow Bright and Strawberry Shortcake and characters from Sesame Street. Interesting store. Then I'm in the watching perspective (omnipresent? ... I don't know), outside the store. It is night time now, and some bad shit is going on, and I don't remember what it was, just a really bad, evil feeling came over me. The store looked diserted and gross. I'm looking across the street from the store ,now. Whatever it is that is bad is there. It is this folding blob, not a blob exactly, but it's this substance that's melting together. It is pure evil, I can tell, I can just feel it. It talks, and I don't know what it says, but the idea is that someone is cursed, and it's going to kill them. Now I'm watching this girl, she's blonde and very pretty. She goes into her appartment. There's a guy in the other room, and she knows the guy, but it isn't him, he's possesed or something by this evel thing. But not just possessed, he's, I guess, dead, and this creature is using his body. He was the cursed one, and now he's going to kill this girl. She's cursed now. The guy makes some remark about how they are going to have sex or something. For some reason I was waiting for him to say this. He sounds very fake and awkward. Then I'm watching this man. He's with a friend, standing at the bottom of the stair. I watch from above. They talk, they're both possessed. I find out he's possesed at this point, because his friends starts rubbing the front of his neck, and it's like he's overcome by this feeling. His head goes back, and the front of his neck begins to look like a spine. His neck gets really long, and finally he tells his friend to knowck it of and whips his neck back into place. I think while I was watching this part I took on the roll of the blonde girl for just a moment. The next thing I see is this girl running. She's running as fast as she can because she found out about that guy. She's running through the grass at night, but she can't run fast because I'm dreaming, and I want her to run faster but she can't. She can only take these long strides. She finds out the guy is following her, and she's frantic. She runs past this cop, but he's cursed too, so he can't help her, he's going to die soon anyway. The man that's chasing her has lost all human form, and has become some sort of creature. The only way I can think to describe it is Werewolf, but it isn't one, It's a really fucked up wolf. it's hidious and discusting. It's face is long and full of teeth. It's chasing this girl who's scared to death, she doesn't want to die. She reaches this car, it's a hatch-back old car. Like a short station wagon. It's tan both outside and in. The keys are in the ingition, they have a skull key chain, and she starts the car. She's frantic and clumbsy, but she manages to do everything alright. At this point, the cop she past is at the passenger window pounding on the door, but it's locked, he's screaming. He's going to die. She pulls out, and tries to drive away. The monster has caught up to her now, and is running beside the car. It's shreeking. It's screaming, and I can't even begin to describe what it sounds like, the worst noise I have ever heard in my life. She's trying to drive away as fast as she can, but once again, I'm dreaming so she can't drive very fast. I want her to drive fast so badly. This wolf thing is still chasing her, she rams it with the side of her car, and pulls down a different road. She was on Main St before. She turns right, and then left. She's going really slow, and I want to cry. When she turns left the wolf is there, and she hits him and runs him over. She tries to excellerate, but she can't. The wolf is holding onto the bottom of the car and she can't drive away. She's gonna die. Then I woke up.

Yeah. I got an A in my computer class! Go me.

Wow, what a crazy crazy CRAZY DAY! It's been great. It really has been. First of all, I just naturally woke up around 7:30 am, so I didn't have to wake up to my super annoying alarm clock. I mean, it's really annoying. I hate it, but I need it. I'm not a very good waker-upper. Ha, not a word. Then, I got to eat breakfast. And we had lactose free milk in the fridge! Yeay. I had corn flakes with my Don't Kill Megan milk, and a banana, I love bananas, and tea, I love tea. THEN! on my way to class, which I was about 20 minutes late to, I listened to this CD that a friend of mine made. He made it so that we could stay awake on our drive to North Carolina this summer. It's called the "Keep us Awake Mix". Ya, so I listened to that and it rocked my socks. I don't wear socks, but it rocked them anyway. The first track was Aenima, and I was all angry and screaming "fuck" a lot in my car, and the NEXT song was "Whip It", and I just died. I couldn't stop laughing about this song. Especially since it came after such an angry song. The rest of the CD was cool, too. There was some Rush and some Dead Kennedys and Sublime and The Who and Primus and um, oh, I don't remember. All good stuff. Except for this Beatles song. I like it, it just didn't fit. Anyhow, I went to my grama's today, and she talked a lot, and told me I could have an antique sewing machine! Sweat! It's really interesting. She also gave me ten dollars, And this crazy orange shirt. THEN I napped. And it was oh so warm and nice. Nothing beats a nice warm nap. I defy anyone who disagrees. It's the best. THEN! I went with my friend to my mom and dad's to eat chicken. And God knows I love chicken. And I saw my kitties Lenny and Carl. I love them so. They're both girls. What's in a name? THEN!!!! I went to class with my friend Emily, we carpool and laugh a lot. She has a painting class, and I have a ceramics class. We really didn't want to go. But we did. And my class was cancelled. Which is why I am in here, writing about nothing. I just like writing. It's cathartic. Um. Ya, I'm in this computer lab, and I didn't know if there was a class in here, so I asked this lady who was walking out. She said, "It's open lab..." Which meant nothing to me, because I'm dense like that. So I asked her if that meant I could mess around on the computer. And she said, "It's open lab..." So I guess that means I can. HOt DaMN! She was fugly anyway. Big teeth. Ya, I have to wait for Emily to get out of class. It's only 6. I have another hour to wait. OH well, today was too superb to be bad now. So I've narrowed it down. I'm either going to make movies or music. I know I have to make something. And those are the two things I want to make. Well, either or. Some lady just sneezed and it was gross. Sometimes I wish I could just turn my life into a big cinematic musical. I'd dance around and sing to and at people. They'd think I was crazy. And I suppose I am, but either way I win. Man! That would be great! I would dance and shit! What if people went along with it?! Amazing. It would be amazing. I think I'm gonna do that. It'll be funny and abnormal. The world needs more abnormal and weird anyway! That reminds me of a funny story. About two years ago, I used to hang out with these two chicks, and they were really cool. Anyhow, this one time we were at Target, and I was going through my platform shoes era. The parking lot had recently been repaved, but only partially. I stepped on a ledge of pavement while walking back to the car, and completely landed on my face. It was horrible, but hillarious. I was lying there, hurting a lot, and my two friends were laughing really hard because for some reason, they thought I had done it on purpose. Well, I hadn't, and I was all bloody on the hands and ew. So, after that, I would always fall in public a lot. People would flip out and ask me if I was alright. I would be pretending to cry, while my friends laughed histerically and tried to petend they were worried. It was good times. Really fuckin funny stuff. That reminds me, I used to be really concerned about laughing a lot when I was stoned, but I don't care anymore, and it's great. The other day Emily and I smoked and laughed a lot and it was so great. I haven't laughed like that in a long time, and i needed that. She cried. The best part is how my laugh is really stupid and sounds ridiculous. A friends of mine called my work place and ordered a sub yesterday. I said something really silly and stupid and she laughed at me. I could tell by her laugh that she had been smoking and that made me laugh a lot. This is a girl I have known my whole life, and her laugh gets really funny when she's high. Oh man, it's funny. I'm don't have much else to say. I'm happy. Yeah. Music is great. Ethos. It's true man, for real. I'm gonna go smoke...

I have flour all over me. In my face and hair and covering the lenses of my glasses. I love advertisments. Commercials. They make me laugh a lot. Like this one I just saw for a furnace, something about how you need to protect your family from the blistering cold. Because what kind of father would you be if you had an old furnace, or a furnace that's not up to par, and you make your children wear sweaters in the house. They children will tell their teachers that their house is cold, and the teachers will say, "Oh yes, little Bobby's parents have a bad furnace, so he freezes all day and all night, I think we should take up a collection of blankets, sweaters, coats and turtlenecks for poor, little Bobby. And maybe some earmuffs and mittens to keep his little appendages warm." And your fellow employees would say, "Why yes, Mr. *** doesn't have a warm house like we do. He's not as good as us... In fact, he sucks!" Then they'd laugh their businessman laughs with their chins pressed against their necks, their collars creating numerous wrinkles. White sparkling teeth. Starched shirts. Stripped ties. Choking them. Yeah, so, if you don't have a furnace you suck!!! Yeah advertisment. I love Oreos... I LOVE THEM SO MUCH! They're great. Not as great as being a musician though. Which is what I'm gonna be. Yep. I'm moving to California. Fuck everybody. I'm a selfish asshole.

I have been doing a good job of medicating myself lately. Yes, yes I have been. Lots of wine and other substances. I've been having to lower my standards however. Which has proved to not be a problem at all. Last night rocked. I had a great time with a few friends, and this really annoying guy named Steve. He was really fucking obnoxious, man. My friend and I decided that it was some divine plan that I'm a Sagittarius and that my name is Megan. It just so happened that his ex-girlfriend was a Sagittarius and that her name was Megan. So he left. For that reason. And it was awesome. Then I found my other friends. And I drank wine on the hammock with them. After that I was really tired so I went to sleep, but only for one hour. I woke up and after that I couldn't sleep. I really tried. This time. I just layed in bed from 2 am until 9 am. Then I decided to just go home and sleep in my own bed. That worked. I slept until 6 this evening. I ate pasta. I took a shower. I rode my bike. And now I'm here. Writing about stupid shit that doesn't matter. I think I'm going to move to New Zealand. Or join the Peace Corp. I would really like to get out of this town very soon. I'm getting really down about being here. I've been saying that for about three years now. I don't want to be a towny. I don't want to be known as someone who is connected to one particular place. Although this isn't neccesarily a bad or boring place, it has nothing more to offer me. There are very few people who I love and trust here. I'd say there are about twelve people here that I love, nine of which are family, and I would be fine leaving eight of them, those last four including my parents and grandmother and one friend. I would have a problem leaving those four, but I still could. I don't know. I'm going to make some tea from "Harrod's" (very good tea) I found in the freezer. And smoke. And smoke. And smoke. OH! And listen to music.

Wrote this a long time ago...

smells like burning skin
hold the match as long as you can
until it hurts
let it burn
until it scars
let it burn
until you bleed
let it burn

searing flesh
this once so hollowed body
this once so hollowed mind
a coincidence of fate
ironically placed
in my mind
my thoughts
my dreams
my world
of hope that comes when it pleases
and leaves every chance it gets
ungrateful visitor
fuck you

scathing skin
blistering bleeding, red
...It burns...
to black
let it bleed
destroying nerves
feeling no pain
melting skin
and I feel no pain
scarred
numb
tired and bleeding
bleeding
___________
forever scarred
and
I feel nothing...


Interesting. I burnt myself at work today, er, yesterday, so it's appropriate. Stupid fucking ovens. However, it is really neat to see your skin melted. Polished and scarred. I like scarres. You can't die without a few scars. I think there's a Fight Club reference in there. Fuck.

I've been snapping a lot lately. I'll be having some stupid, petty conversation with someone, usually my closer friends, and it will turn in to a small argument, disagreeing ideas, so I decide to just stop talking. They however chose to continue, and even if it's just their final two cents, I snap. I'll scream something, and they'll tell me I'm flippin out. And I don't know if that's true or not. I don't know where these emotions are coming from either. I just know I've been snapping. Um...I just read this, and it made me feel a lot better. Thanks Scout...

"meg,

ya know, mood rings are funny things. mine changes color out of no where. it didn't even explain what the colors meant on the package so i never know how i feel. i have to just feel what i feel instead of lookin at this handy ring that i have. i want to know what i feel without having to look deep into my soul. i'll make up my own code:


green w/ yellow outside will mean that i'm all hot and bothered about something. example: mr rogers comes on tv and starts changing his shoes. my ring turns green with yellow outside because i mean why would you change your shoes to go into your house. why wouldn't you just wear no shoes. i mean its your house mr rogers!! come on now.


yellow with pink outside will mean that my favorite simpsons episode is on. ya know the one where they turn into the thompsons and they move into the boat house and then sideshow bob follows them cause he wants bart dead and thats why they moved because bob wrote them letters in his own blood. then the rakes. and the brownie and the chain saw. thats good stuff. too bad it hasn't turned yellow with pink outside yet. i miss sideshow bob. maybe someday


all black will mean that i just got out of the shower cause thats what it looks like when i get out of the shower. thats ring sure is smart.


blue with light blue outside will mean that i am hungry. simple as that


uh oh, better go, its turning blue with light blue outside. i must follow the ring. its the master of me. why did i just write that i think its taking over my brain. mood rings are good must buy more mood rings mood rings mood rings mood rings mood rings mood rings mood rings

love scout"


Scout wrote that to me about two years ago. I miss her. Well, I've run out of things to say again. I think I'm going to go turn off my brain now. There's a bottle of wine with my name on it.

4:55 am.

Tomorrow is a Saturday. So, I'm reading a lot of things I wrote two years ago, in my old blog, and it's so strange. I remember everything I wrote about, every topic, but I don't really remember the emotions that went along with those words. I just feel so nostalgic about those times. I almost miss them. I feel like I have nothing now. No controversy, no beginnings. Maybe it's because I was just such an absolute dreamer then, that I felt I could do or be anything. Now, reality has taken its toll and I won't ever feel that life is suspenseful. I don't know. Maybe I've just been the same to long. Things need to change and so do I. I should shave my head and just leave everything behind. But I can't really do that now. The resentment I had towards my parents it gone. They have become vulnerable people. If I left them now or soon I would always feel the guilt of that decision waying on my shoulders. Yeah, this makes me really miserable. I hate it here. I need some sort of release. I need to be pacified.

5:04 am.

my bones are tired
i hear their creeks and moans.
my heart is so heavy.
that’s so much weight to carry.
these poor, old, brittle bones.

It's funny how depression is a crutch. When all else fails me, or I fail everything else, I find myself seeking comfort in my sadness. It's such an easy place to run to and find. We have quite a history.

5:49 am.

So, I just woke up. Accidentally. It turned out that I had to pee really bad, and my body didn't let me know until it was almost too late. In my scrammble to get downstairs to the bathroom I almost killed my cat. I threw the covers off and sat on them, before I stood up. Dazed, confused and having to pee really bad, I felt this warm, sqirming thing underneath me trying to wriggle away from possible death. "Cat," I thought, and proceeded to let it live. After that interesting ordeal, I decided to just stay awake, seeing as I have class in a few hours anyway. I made toast, (Yeah, toast! [that's exitment, not reiteration]) and got a huge glass of water. I had to use margarin on my toast, which pissed me off. Not only that, but the container said "spread", not margarin, simply "spread" in very small letters at the top. Nowhere else did it mention what it was...WHAT THE HELL! Just tell me what the mother fuckin stuff is! What are you trying to hide Country Crock!!! And that's why I don't like to eat anything but butter, and butter tastes better anyway. Anyhow, I take a huge chug of this water I've prepared myself, and it instantly goes down the wrong pipe. (It's really funny, now, that I'm creating a mental image of what I looked like doing this.) Yeah, I spit water everywhere. It was one of those choking instances where the moment you swallow, your throat says, "No thanks," and you immediately explode with whatever it is your trying to ingest. All this, however, came after my tornado dream. Ah, tornado dreams. If I had recorded everyone I've ever had, there would probably be an Encyclopedia Botanica (?) portion of books on my wall. So, yeah, the entire dream was about tornados, and of course, me trying to flee from them. There was one point in the dream, however, that makes me laugh. I was in my room/hole in the wall trying to kill all these rats and mice that were coming out of the walls. This is funny to me because I lie in bed, probably every night, listening to these animals in my walls. I'm pretty sure they're squirrels (nice ones according to my friend), but, nonetheless, animals, and they are extremely loud. There preparing for something, I know it, whether it's for winter or not they have something in mind. Maybe they're making some dooms day device, or a device used to take over my body in order to take over the world. I must say, if so, they didn't pick a very good one. I won't get them far, but I'm sure there will be others...
So, in my tornado dream I found out that I had this forgetten brother named Lexis, like the car... I called my house to make sure my mom was alright, and a boy answers the phone, I say, "Mac." and he says, "No, this is Lexis, your other other younger brother, the youngest," or somthing to that extent. Anyhow, it was weird. I forgot I had a younger brother, and thought, "I should go visit home more, and see how my family is. I should get to know this person named Lexis that I don't know or remember, but feel this sisterly bond towards. Weird. Anyhow, there were tornados all fuckin day long. They are always so vivid. At one point I was driving down this road, and I know exactly where I got the imagery from. It was a Colorado landscape, the tundra, which I hiked this summer. Tricky brain, I saw right through that one. This is a stupid post, but I have nothing better to do. Now that I've said that I'm out of ideas. wildcats...psshhhhooo...I'm gonna go...
(That's from a movie, by the way, I'm not that crazy)

6:17 am.

?:?? am.


Tomorrow is a Saturday. I'm thinking too much these days. Thoughts are always healthy, but I feel as though my brain is working overtime. Which is not healthy. It's creating an accute case of insomnia. I suppose I can sleep whenever I want, however, there is too much to sort through in my mind. I feel like a computer analyzing information; I'm like a really really slow computer, and someone is trying to download tons of information way too fast. Let's hope my system doesn't crash. Also, I've been sleeping in four hour intervals. It's making one day seem like five. Twelve hours ago seems like a year ago. Fifteen minutes seems like yesterday, and so on and so forth. I think I'm going to have to find a new place to live soon. People are weird about money, even though I practically not spending any of theirs. I don't eat there food, I hardly shower, here at least, and I don't use any of their products. So, you would think that would be alright. I did however tell them that I would pay $100 a month, which, for good reasons, I don't have. Ah well, we'll see what happens. I can live with it.

6:30 am.

4:04 pm.

Tomorrow is a Thursday. I work on Thursdays, so I hate them. It's sort of like the beginning of my week. I work Thursday until Sunday. Three days off. It's nice sometimes. It would be even nicer if I made some more money. Thirty hours a week, and only about $150. I love it. Well, I'm going to go shop at the thrift store, have a cup of coffee, and sleep. Later.

4:09 pm.

4:15 am.

Tomorrow is a Saturday. I'm really exhausted. I just drank about 12 cups of coffee at Big Boy. Wow. What a night. It's funny when I think that working eight hours will exhaust me, and then I stay up for another 5 hours. I can hardly type. Damn. Well, I think I have finally reached that point of exhaustion where theres no alternative but sleep. Hope I can sleep, considering the amount of caffeen in my system at the moment. That's not the correct way to spell caffeine, caffiene...whatever, I can't think enough to care. Oh well, I wish I would get more e-mail from preticular people, but oh well again. Goodnight everyone.

4:19 am.

2:58 pm.

Tomorrow is a Thursday. I'm really lonely. I hate it when friends are out of town. I don't feel like making myself do anything. And I won't. I have to go to work in two hours. Maybe I can keep myself occupied.

3:00 pm.

2:54 am.

Tomorrow is a Saturday. Right now I have this crippling fear of being nothing. It isn't even a fear of being nothing. It's also a fear of settling for less and being disapointed. Which I already am. I am so impatient right now. Things are moving so slowly and unproductivly. I want to be past all of this "transitioning" and move onto what really matters. I can only see myself being something great, not mediocre. I have never felt that way about myself. But I feel that if I am to settle for less then I might as well die now, because that disapointment would end my joy anyway. I want music. It feels so out of my reach. I don't know how to pursue it. So how can I perfect it? How can I excel then? I'm so tired. I'm trying to realize the contentment recieved from just knowing I have food to eat and clothes to wear, but it's still not enough. I want it all. I want completion and fulfillment. I don't mind being a seeker, as long as I know what I'm seeking. I don't even know that yet. So far behind. I think of all the people who have influenced my life, in good ways or bad. I wish I could tell them all. I wish I could say, "You, you ruined my life," or "You opened my eyes." If only. Maybe I will be able to some day.

3:03 am.

12:27 am.

Tomorrow is a Friday. But it's funny that I write that because the days don't really matter or mean anything anymore. They don't really affect me. I can never remember what context to put that word in. Oh well. Stupid English language. I'm starting to hate the night. We used to get along so well, but now it's such a solitary part of the day. (as in the 24 hour period of time) Maybe I just need to be a little more creative in deciding what to do, seeing as I can't sleep very well anymore. And to think, sleep used to be my haven. It was the only thing that could make me numb and thoughtless. And I could always depend on my dreams being interesting, even the frightening ones. For instance, the one I had were I was in a black room, lying down on a large couch, and watching the scribbles on a TV. There was someone in the background stabbing an anonymous person to death. They stopped the slaughter and leaned over the back of the couch. I looked up. "Now, it's your turn," they said staring down at me, and proceeded to drop the knife. It fell, penetrating my neck. I could feel its pressure and the fear in my mind and the sweat and the tears running down the sides of my face. "I'm going to die no matter what I do," I thought. "I could pull the knife out of my throat and bleed to death, or I could just lie here with it sticking in my neck. Either way I die." And I awoke. I could feel the pressure in my throat and the sweat dripping from my skin. I've never been so scared in my life. It was so vivid and real. "Fall back asleep," I thought to myself. The words echoed in the darkness of the room. "Fall back asleep..."

12:51 am.

11:05 pm.

Much older now
Future memories to never take place
Standing naked in the rain
Bud and hope to bloom
But never shall this bud nor blossum
Or rise, to say

Warm bed
No sleep and no truth
Lucid dreams I have
False dreams
Euphoric, however
Old feelings
Revisited
Renewed
And so forth
Time stops
And never shall I be given the chance

Only to see and think forever

11:12 pm.