2004-02-16 | 7:22 a.m.|
I want everyone to know that very likely the only reason I'm putting in a diary entry today is because someone (Milan Magan) signed my guestbook recently. I do still check it periodically, and apparently attention = inspiration.
That aside, I've been sick for the past few days. Horribly, massively sick, not the relatively tame sort of sickness some of you may be used to. Whatever, it seems to have affected my brain somehow. I feel like I'm getting much, much more blood to the brain, and I wonder if that might have affected my thinking. If nothing else, it's gotten me awake at 7:25 am, and that's a pretty rare occurrence, even when I have stayed up all night.
And I keep having weird dreams. I mean, technically, no weirder than normal for me, but, while I seem to have more control over my dreams than ever while I'm having them, in between dreams, I seem to have lost some control. The night before last I dreamed the exact same dream all night long, despite the fact I actually woke up completely twice. The dream just refused to change to another dream. It wasn't even a particularly meaningful dream either.
Still, the main problem with change is that you really only have two choices. Either too much, or not enough. Nothing ever changes just enough. Every good change is bound to be followed by an equal or greater change for the bad. And sometimes the bad doesn't even need that excuse. All this wasted effort to keep me in my own largely self imposed mediocrity. It's almost as if reality watched me screwing my life up and thought, 'He's good at fucking things up, but he could be truly great with a little training. Let me show him how it's done.'
Yes, I still continue to personify reality as female. No, I don't have any real explanantion for why. No, I'm not going to go into it, and no I don't think it has any kind of psychological relevance, but hey, you're welcome to psychoanalyze me all you want. But if you write a book about me, I want royalties.
(No, I don't have my priorities straight, I don't even have priorities. I barely know what I'm doing now much less what I'll be doing next.)
So to sum it all off, I'm an attention whore, sickness is good for the brain, Reality still thinks she can fuck with me, and the Creator only knows what she hopes to accomplish by it, and gimme the caysh.
Step Back ---/// Take a Step ///--- End of the Path
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