Stay stagnant for fear of jeopardizing what you have.

But what the fuck do you have?

ah.

I must embrace confusion. By that I mean, that's what happens, not what I intend to do. I can live with it, and there are parts of me that like it. And when it's not there, I nix it right away. And I apologize to those who I've done this to. It's not my fault. It's just what happens.

This weekend, on a side note, I wonder if this helps. I mean, who am I talking to? You? Me? Both I'd say. By the ticket, take the ride.

I used to not worry, but now I do. There is no point, but then, like I was saying before, this weekend solidified that idea. The point is what I make it and that's it. So if I get muddled up in shit, it has to be because I enjoy it. There has to be a bunch of you who know exactly what I'm talking about. Then, maybe not.

But I'm done. I have to focus on what I need to do rather than concentrate on variables I have no say in. It's like what Dostoyevsky said about the architect who builds his house. Those who are angry are those who have finished. Perhaps therein lies the reason for my obsession with the uncertain.

I'm going to go to bed before it gets bad.

I should let it get bad again, but I'm still paying the hospital bills for it.

I think I better think it out again.

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.