No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2001-10-18 - 3:03 p.m.

Thought of the day, based on a heinous misquotation from Illusions by Richard Bach, followed by and Aliens reference, and me being a weirdo.

We are magnets. No we are nails wrapped with copper wire, and we can choose to magnetize ourselves. When we do, we draw to us the people who are supposed to be our friends. The current is our selves. We attract the right people by doing nothing more than being our selves, and being true to that.

So tomorrow night, I will try my damndest to be myself.

Really, it's all I can do.

Cause I know once I see those eyes again, all the thought is going to be sucked out of my mind like the alien queen out of the airlock, and my self-control will be skittering across the floor like Newt.

Where's half of Lance Henrikson when you need him?

Damn I'm a weirdo.

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