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

2001-08-25 - 10:22 a.m.

saturday morning and my brain is on strike

it's saturday morning and i have nothing to say. i don't want to just do a laundry list of the events of the past day (party because i don't want you to see how boring my life is), even though it did see jo3 actually using the word "girlfriend" in referring to Ng.

anyhoo the only thing i can think to write right now is that while i was still lying in bed this morning, trying to see if i could squeeze a few more minutes of sleep out, i thought to myself one phrase i will never use again is "beep, beep, back the truck up".

my brain does funny things on saturday mornings.

i just checked email and i have a new one from match.com. i thought i had cancelled my account. i'm not sure if i want to reply or not. failure is not my favorite thing, especially when i comes to ego-very-much-on-the-line activities like dates. there've been too many i like her, she doesn't return my calls kind of situations already for my liking.

all this going through my brain while in the living room eRoommate punctuates his Madden Football playing with little phrases like "throw the ball you motherf*****" and "no don't run out of bounds you stupid f*** who likes to f*** goats and sodomize ground squirrels in his free time when he's not running out of bounds like a stupid f***".

or something like that.

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