More dreams last night/this morning. I�m in a car with someone, can�t tell who. Either Jodie, or Stephanie maybe. Sitting there waiting for food to come. Inter-spliced with this scene is me deciding to go through this massive shelf of cereal boxes and take a handful of cereal out of each to see which are old and out of date, so I can throw them out, and organize the remaining boxes. I get about 5 or 6 done when I�m suddenly back in the car and �she� is bringing the food in the car. I say, �I should have gotten the bigger drink� and then wake up to Jodie�s voicemail here in real life. It�s odd, I haven�t talked to her much all weekend, she with work, and me with going out every night since Thursday. Tonight I am going to stay in as far as I can tell. My other dream I was in a record store working, I think it was the one I was in yesterday. My brother works there. In the dream I was working there and I was playing one of the noisier Zorn CD�s and him and the others yelled at me.

Some don�t seem to understand the insistence of wanting to just stay away from crowds. It�s always been like this, as long as I can remember. Some give me shit and think it should be no big deal for me. It is though. It is so fucking serious that it happens with cars as well. I will drive 10 miles out of my way if it means avoiding one particularly confrontational intersection.

To write music is to feel gigantic. To hear someone else�s composition and see how they may have composed it is even bigger.

Must be getting old, the fact that I went outside of this room three nights in a row, during the maiden days of owning this computer even, has left me exhausted physically and mentally. I�ve disgustingly slept past noon on both weekend days now. Got to get out of this. Alcohol does just make me physically ill now. Duh. But, I don�t feel the enjoyment of being more talkative and spinning or what have you. I am noticing the fact that I just drank a bunch of liquid that tastes disgusting and sits there rotting your insides. I�d rather have the joint and a cigarette while shooting the shit with a friend. Done with that for now yet again. Waste of money, and waste of urine.

Skimming through the channels I see football games that aren�t going to help me, and Lifetime movies that make me laugh.

The Jewish booking agent still hasn�t called back, not surprised in the least bit. Nobody knows who we are, and none of us suck any cocks of other scenesters, so of course we�re not going to be a money making machine for these people. (The term �Jewish booking agent� brings to mind some greedy big nosed guy telling you he�s going to make you a star, heh. Semi-Anti-Semitism is a bit fun at times.) Instead they will have their scene of humorously bad music posing as hardcore, or metal, or something original. The only thing original that seems to come out of that scene is�well, nothing.

Read a copy of Paul McCartney�s tour rider online today. Wondering if perhaps Chapman shot the wrong Beatle.

Madonna song in this movie today, the argument from most: �she writes great pop songs�. My response usually: �yeah, and Manson was good at coordinating the deaths of people, that doesn�t make him cool�. I remember those people that thought Charles Manson was cool, etc. These are the same people that are into Jim Morrison, Rocky Horror Picture Show, Star Wars, or any other awful trend that has existed in the past century or so.

I want to see the new Spike Lee film, as well as Adaption, and the new Scorcese one. The Lord of the Rings thing is sort of the last thing on my list. If I have some pot I would go see it, I�ll most likely wait until it comes on DVD and rent it. To get me to sit in a movie theatre for 3 hours or so you�re going to have to show me teenagers having sex or something, not trees throwing orcs, etc.

Today I remembered the existence of �Le Car�. God.

Today I only left to sell some more cd�s, and to go by Wal-Mart to buy some shit for the computer. It was like fucking Ellis Island in there. I was out for all of two hours I think. Forgetting people would be shopping for the holiday still, I left the store quickly. Images of firebombing all of the people in there went through my head briefly on the short ride back here.

That brief, exciting moment where you finally you think you recognize a girl on a pornographic website.

When I think about April, I want to fucking vomit.

before & after