November 29, 2000
I'm very jerky. I wish I could stay up all night. I'm looking for a different rhythm. I can't find it. I lost an internal connection. I can't go rollerblading anymore. I'm distracted by these projects. I want to make a non-project project. I want to make a project of no-project. I want to let nothing happen but I don't trust that nothing will happen. I'm having issues with trust. In my frustration, I'm attracted to a dosage of cruelty. That's not one of my values. It's a bad sign. In my frustration, I'm attracted to a large cup of Hot-cha-cha-cha. What is that? I asked. I bought Maldoror. I couldn't help it. "You should have bought whipped cream." "I don't know what that is, it's some kind of petroleum based product." In my frustration, I'm attracted to checking my email obsessively. Nonproductive. What else is there? I looked at the sky. I have enjoyed looking at the sky over the last few days. But I don't listen to it. The sky gave me bad advice last year at this time. I don't trust it. I would rather it just keep quiet. You know what? It doesn't matter what I write. That's what I keep telling myself. I'm just a person, a rough draft.