we're sticking (pun intended) with this one for a bit.

Funny thing is I look just like that guy to the right.

And yet I can't leave without posing an idea . . .

I'm walking along a trestle, on a train track surrounded by the absurd. I need to accept that. That is the key to eliminating guilt and self doubt.

I'm just not sure I'd like to rid my existence of those two all together.

I'm heading to Rochester to reminisce with some old friends.

Things that will ensue:

Whiskey drinking
Talks of Camus and Sartre's influence
Why people do good?
Women
Physics
Nihilism and debauchery
Hamlet
Anarchy
Next march on Washington
Rum drinking
Big black men telling stories of where they've been
Guitar playing and drumming
The enigma of life in general and the fact that things only exist because we say so, hence God is an aparition and yet he's mine, so there's no discussion. I don't need to prove it, because of faith.
What is faith?
What is hope?
Woody Guthrie
smoking
Why we prefer, sometimes, reading about people rather than people
Why, no matter what, there is always some sort of attraction between people, be it positive or negative
My low self esteem, which can be debated considering I'm on the fence with that one. I've yet to not do something because I was afraid. But I have not done something because I just don't see the point.
Ex-girlfriends
The poor
The poor in Jessie's house, he runs a pseudo shelter
Which goverment lists we're on
When Jessie might get assasinated because he's a budding Che
I'll let you know what else happens

God speed folks

That sucks. I just wrote this whole thing about tipping versus intentions (which I deemed to be the same thing, especially in your case Keith), and I had this really good story about towing and Moliere.

Well I just got home from work actually and I tend to fall asleep on my computer a lot. So after about a half hour of typing, my log disappeared. Apparently I closed my eyes and my finger found its way to the "esc" button. When I awoke, my story was gone. I Ctrl Zed forever, but it's gone.

Hey, what can ya do.

Thanks though Keith. Good to run into you again. I hope your car worked out well.

Night all.

(still pretty pissed about losing what I wrote. Or am I pissed about my inability to decide what my body does. I don't want to sleep, but I think the rest of me wants to.)

Fucking dick shit piss fuck - fuck ass

I feel better now.

Well thanks Paul but honestly I think I look a lot better in this pic than I do in person. This picture is of when I had shaved my head and dyed whatever I had left blonde.

Oh and I tried to make myself as strung out as I possibly could. That was a strange month of watching Requiem for a Dream over, and over again.

But Paul, we'll see what people say, or if they say anything. I do know that I get disgusted seeing that picture so inevitably, it will soon change, but isn't having an unrecognizable picture a bit appealing? People's expectations start out so small that I look better just by defaut. I should put my horribly cheesy headshot in, when I was desperately trying to be an actor in New York. I had a David Hasslehoff thing going on. Yeah, no one will see that picture.

So Keith, apparently I know you? Did you tow me? Oh wait, I'm the tow truck driver (unless you are too) Did I tow you? Please tell me I didn't fuck up your car. If I did I apologize. My ratio is about 1:100 cars get a scratch or something like it. 1% error is no all too bad.

It was a blast last night. Got to read a bit, shoot the shite, and then smoke a lot. This morning's light was an abomination.

Physics wasn't even fun today.





BUt this is. Sort of. Well sort of narcissistic but Paul you started it. Okay so, the pic you see to your right or one of these?

pic 1


there's something there I don't trust nor should you

pic 2

the morning after

pic 3

the best place in the world, central park and I guess I look like that because I was leaving that town

pic 4

oh so hopeful. Too bad . . .

pic 5

this can be a good potential here. Changing the quote every week . . . I don't know I still think I look better in the pic on your right.

okay peeps we're in the
pink uh yeah, terry and liz are getting it on, that guy who groped me is
now gone, no thanks to robin who allowed said groping, and paul is
moving his head like he's on lsd, sweet. notes; camping trip, and strip
poker rematch happening soon, I want to get naked goddamnit robin, get
your head outta my chest here. . . uh okay seeya