Well, I had a bagel with cream cheese for breakfast, which I haven't done in a while.

Also somehow got CowboyNeal on #Everything to actually talk!

Finally learned that attempting to rip a CD on a P133 while doing other things leads to really bad mp3s.


Frustrating Day. I have been trying to install Linux on these stinking Olivetti PC's that they have here and the on-board video card does not like the install disk for redhat, debian, or suse, which I find tragic indeed. Also I haven't received a sliver of email from home all day.
There's always Everything to keep me company.
(Initially written in my notebook. Felt like sharing.)

July 30, 1999


I hate going to bed alone each night, wanting to reach out my hand, but nothing is there. I hate waking up each morning, having to think up reasons to start my day. I hate having an interesting thought, only to have nobody to share it with. I hate walking down the street, knowing there is no one for me to walk with. I hate that chirping of crickets is one moment comforting, til I turn to smile at a person that is not there. I hate explaining something I'm talking about, then realize only I am listening. I hate that when I cry, there is no hand but my own to wipe the tears away.

I hate that I'm so consumed with lonliness. Most of all, I hate that alone I do not feel complete.

I hate that I am so weak.


The music entered my dreams. I thought, Wait, I don't have that mp3. It wasn't loud, but it woke me, and I realized it was my alarm clock. I woke up better today, not with feelings of Why am I awake? My mom seems to spend more time at home. I think it's because I'm no longer moping around the house. I know that she doesn't understand that the problems that concern me are all in my head. We'd never gotten along, but I think now she has finally accepted that I am not like her. I think she also does not realize that in some ways, I am. I have her temper, parts of it. I have her attitude, and sometimes it comes out. She's had a rough life. When she talks of it, it's amazing. She's amazing. Having to carry around all those things. I really love my family, despite everything. They allow me to be me.


I just had a breakthrough. Shit, it's going away. When I walk into a room, an empty room, my empty room, I feel... sad? empty? It's like I realize there is no reason, no meaning. Like every now and then you'll get such a clear thought and everything makes sense. Then it's lost, forgotten and life goes on as meaningless as before. Or you suddenly grasp an answer, a thought, wondering why you didn't understand it before. That, too, is lost and forgotten. I walk into an empty room and something is wrong. I know that this is not how I should be. A silence that is not comforting and does not belong. What does that mean? What the hell does it all mean? It already slipped away, lost and forgotten.

I'll look up from what I'm doing - writing down a thought, going over some notes. Simply listen to the music fill my ears, touch my body, flow through my body. And I'll stand up, look around as if seeing my surroundings for the first time. There's my window, the window that's been with me before. The window I used to take out the screen and sit on the sill, dangling my feet ouside. Knowing that one wrong move and I will fall. I walk over to my window, feeling as if I am somewhere else, looking out at a view I've countless times before. Trying to see something new, something I may have missed before. Needing to see something new. But never seeing anything new. I'll just stand there, waiting, wondering. Touching the dirty glass. But nothing new. I'll turn away dramatically. Sit down and let the music dance through me, my eyes closed, my mind exploring a new, beautiful place.

I live in a dream world. I'll sometimes try to talk to a person, hearing the coldness of my voice, knowing that it isn't me. Knowing I can't be me in this reality. Knowing I'm too soft and so instead I pull over my blanket to cover me. To hide me.
(bad haiku 4 u)

here's a slow, slow day
in the form of a haiku:
nothing happening

here's a second one:
syllables treading water;
haiku sucks big time

i shall order out;
man tastes nothing like chicken
and novelty fades

a Hand has disguised
a throng of seraphim as
empty seats in Shea

and even out in
Chi-Town (at Wrigley Field) Shea's
seraphim kick ass

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