it's 8:32 a.m., on 2001-05-16 - cyber-punking KD Lang.

~

Did I mention I started writing Matrix fic with Lynx?

Which means, really, *I'm* writing Matrix fic, and she's plotting it for me.

God, I'm a sucker. I'm going to re-open that fifth-season riot story I had goin' for OZ, next. And then I'll have to commit seppukah.

No, that is not spelled correctly.

It's ten to eight in the morning, and Lynx and I have plotted Matrix all night again. This time, we've reworked the movie to bring a smarter, more aware Switch into it, and make sure that Apoc and her don't die.

Because really. Who do we like? The Keanu, I'm-a-hero-with-bad-hair Neo guy, or the androgenous girl who kicks some ass and looks like a tough, cyber-punk KD Lang?

Come on, now.

I haven't done nearly enough work on the Renere sequel, and I haven't finished the Buffy/OZ crossover-- yes, two more parts and one more short story, I suck, I know! Soon!-- and I was going to get out of fic by the beginning of this year. Maybe by the end of this year.

The sequel to Renere; maybe the sequel to that. This stupid Matrix fic. The Buffy/OZ. 'In Media Res'-- I'm going to do that next. Once the fifth season comes out, I think, so I have something to go on and change. After this and the renere-sequel is done.

I want to be able to write the things I have in queue without creating more. Like a schedule.

�I've noticed, a great many sentences in this journal end up starting 'I want or 'I wish', and they shouldn't. They should start with 'I am' or 'I will' or even 'I won't', but not 'I want'. I want is a whine. I want is, is.

I don't know. It's something I should do, not say. These things. I should do them. Not say them.

Lynx and I are discussing weird sleeping habits and falling asleep right by the computer. She's got her monitor right by her bed too, and I want to set mine up like hers-- sitting on her bedframe.

In the channel, I'm babbling. It's not cool. I'm going to stop now.

Eight thirty, and still no river sightings.

I was in the bathroom today, brushing my teeth, and I thought about not going to South Cali. I don't know why-- I'm stupid, mostly. I considered if I didn't go. I wouldn't put anyone out about arrangements-- Chan's still going, so everyone would still have to do the same things. I have cancellation insurance.

The thing is, I don't know why I was thinking these things.

I'm sleepy. I get to vote today, in the provincial election. I'm too hot. I had Wendy's chili for dinner. And I'm no closer to owning a caravan than yesterday-- which proves how feeble-minded I am when it comes to will-power and want.

I say, not do, want. I have, not feel, sensations.

I'm going to bed.

--but before I do, here's another scary fic idea from talking to Lynx: Fight Club/Matrix crossover.

Jesus, what a mind-job. That neon 'jesus saves!' sign would have to be in it.

~

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