Running late today, my friend came by, we hung out, etc. Me and him and another friend watched a pair of movies, one is Brazil, and a movie called The Passion of Ayn Rand, and I hate the way they say her name all throughout the film, it's like Eh-n. I didn't know exactly what to think of Brazil. It kinda left me feeling, well, pointless.

Anyhow, last night me and my friend had one of those talks, we talked about my current two girlfriend situation, and what I'm pretty sure I'm missing in one is a total childlike curiosity. I need that, I crave it. I want her to care, damnit. I need it.

I read an assload, today, too. I finished an essay by David Foster Wallace in A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again about, uhh, I think it was about authors being alive or dead. Interesting, but critical theory has never been much my type of thing. I also read a lot of Memoirs of a Beatnik, which is pretty cool.

I'm re-arranging my bedroom because my computer was resting on top of a heating vent. Sux. Too tired. It's 6 am here. Time for sleep.