it's 10:04 pm, on March 08, 2005 - you never wanna do that stuff.

~

It's funny. I have this line stuck in my head - when will I be through with disappointment? I don't know where it came from - I can't remember who wrote it, what character such a sad, yet human, reaction came out of. I think it was Alestar - but then, when is it not?

I am considering biting the bullet and getting a cell phone on a contract. I keep thinking if I had a cell phone my life could have some meaning again, but I think we both know that that's not true. It's odd - you pin things getting better on one particular thing, and then stubbornly refuse to take it. you get this perverse reluctance to achieve. Since Malcolm is what you want, of course he stays beyond your grasp. Maybe it's just me.

I have these little ideas, during the day. lines or whatever. One just went:

Shelly always said that if you were going to be a statistic, you'd better be in the minority so that people will remember you - the exception to the rule. Everyone is a statistic; Shelly knew a lot of statistics. She knew that over 40% of the American population is obese, she knew that most women prefer non-violent methods of suicide, that less than 15% die through gunshot. She knew a lot.

I didn't even know she owned a gun.

But where is that going? forget it. that's all there is, nothing more. I was walking home today, looking up at the grey sky. Did I tell you I'm reading the Timothy Findlay book, "Pilgrim"? It's about psychiatry's place in the spectrum of faiths and religions, and a man who has lived through history and is just tired of being human, of all of it, he just wants to die because there is nothing *here* anymore. And about Carl Jung going crazy.

Seriously, there's a voice in Carl Jung's mind that tells him he's an asshole a lot. It really does account for Jungian theory. It's a fascinating piece of historical fanfiction. It even has some slash with Leonardo DaVinci, and the--

I was going to tell a story here that would give away the big punchline to the DaVinci section, but I'm not going to in case anyone actually reads it. I was taken by surprise when I got to the end - maybe I'm just gullible.

Anyway.

It's been nice having this little chat, but it really is past my bedtime. plus I'm putting this melancholia down to not sleeping well. it's not the full-blown insomnia that Matt and I used to get simultaneously, staying up for days at a time like we were cranked and really just having a psychotic episode from lack of REM sleep. it's more subversive than that. it's guerrilla warfare. I wake up two or three times a night, nearly every night now for months. sure, that's some sleep. that's nearly enough sleep. but it's never quite enough. it's never enough.

ps: props to anyone who gets the lyric.

~

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