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Monday, Aug. 26, 2002 / 1:29 p.m. ~It's a Multiple Entry Kind of Day, I Can Feel It~ So I see her sitting in the hallway, and her eyes are doing that slow blink thing as I tell her how cute I think she is. And I ask her if she thinks she's cute, "But do you think you're cute? Do YOU think you're cute? Wait, do you FEEL cute? Because that's what's important you know." Norma, in the hall. My glasses are in my backpack which sits upon the floor just inside the front door. My vision is just lacking enough, just enough that I lean in to see as I type. Is that all I had to say? Was there more? Why write another whole entry? Who cares? Not I. Weirdness in the cosmos. The dream was a sign. Why do we have subconsious minds? What is the purpose of the subconscious? Why must we be so active in our sleep? Shouldn't sleep be restful? What is the purpose of dreaming? Why are we here? When do we find the answers? Is it upon death? Once that last breath leaves our bodies, once the heart stops beating, once we've begun to turn cold, is that when? What if that's not when? What if we don't ever get to know? What if there is no 'knowledge'? And what am I going to eat for dinner? Chinese? Is it wrong that every time I see an Asian, or Asian-American person I get hungry for Asian food? I think of tofu, Nam Sod, spring rolls. Is that wrong? I want to take a culinary tour of China. I want to be independently wealthy, to travel the globe, or only the parts I really want to see. I want to hire guides to show me around, take me off the beaten path. I want not to get diarrhea on my journey. Not once. I want an ironclad constitution. I want bowels of steel. Haven't seen that tape yet, "Bowels of Steel". You know, like "Abs of Steel", "Buns of Steel". Okay, never mind. I still can't see. I can open my eyes wider, close them just a bit, it does no good. I am getting old, and infirm, I can no longer see, my hair is filling up with silver. It's not even gray. I have a head swimming with ideas, dreams, memories, and it's all playing like some video gone bad. Or some neighbor across the street with a remote control that operates my brain, and he's toying with me, fast forwarding, rewinding, all without my knowledge or permission. Reminds me of that scene in "Amelie" where she fucks with the neighbor's TV reception as he watches the soccer game..... I need to see "Amelie" again, and eat at the Mediterranean cafe intown. I need to get out and look at people, and see how many look back. I need to go back to work. I'm home for lunch. It was peanut butter and blackberry preserves on whole wheat. I didn't really want it, but figured I should eat it. I glanced in my kitchen sink drain, afraid to look really, and there is stuff in there, stuff I don't want to know about, I see it lying there, inside, down deep. I want a drain that looks like shiny metal when I crane my neck to see. I want, I don't need a thing. I only want. And I long not to want. See me become a Buddhist. Shave my head. Chant and wear long robes. Pray a lot. Eat vegetables. I'm Audi.............. Cost of the War in Iraq
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Recent Entries: It Was 40 Years Ago Today - 9:44 a.m. , Friday, Oct. 12, 2012 Dead Black Cat - 9:07 a.m. , Wednesday, Jan. 25, 2012 As Seen From Outer Space - 1:07 a.m. , Saturday, Dec. 05, 2009 I Survived to Tell the Tale - 7:29 a.m. , Friday, Sept. 18, 2009 Reading My Life - 12:55 p.m. , Saturday, Sept. 12, 2009 
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