Wednesday, September 07, 2005


i'm tired yet can't sleep. i have a million things to do yet i can't do them.

i started this day trying to finish Girlfriend in a Coma (Coupland). i did. good book. but its sour ending combined with the sunless morning to make me think of how fruitless this life can be. (think of the future. how long will this last?)

going on thirty, yet i don't feel any different. i feel like i'm still Me- Ten Years Ago, only older. you get to thinking: will i be the same ten years from now? if that's so, then when i'm pushing forty, it'll only still be my nineteen-year old self in a middle aged man's body. how luckless can you get? (enough to drive you nuts.)

what is all this for?

why are we here?

what are we here for?

why is everyone here with me?

why are they all around me?

why am i here?

questions- which must have made a lot of men insane over the course of time. but aren't we already? the insane is only insane because everyone else is different. "sanity" is only the majority. numbers. who are we to say what's real? who are we to say that we aren't all deluded, and someone in an asylum out there is right, or has been right all along? of his perceptions, of what he can see. who will give him a voice, when the minority is buried in the din of "normalcy"?

no one.


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