My throat is dry, my stomach is full, people liked my cheesecake, this was a strange day, I can't remember, concert tomorrow, I owe $21, okay bye bye.

Waking Life.

An abundance of things to say.

Ah. I feel like I've been on one long exhausting acid trip. I've thought these things before, at least most of them, and dreams seem like that somewhat, and there was an idea in there of what I'm writing a speech on, but what am I trying to supposed to think, what am I supposed to do, what is the director proposing to me in this movie? It's like a dream in that, yeah, it looked much like an acid trip and I couldn't concentrate on any one thing and it looked like a Monet painting, and all these images and psuedo intellectual information was being presented just like life in a way except in healthier doses maybe, BUT! putting them splat all together gives me an overall headache and confusion and I didn't get what I felt I was supposed to get from this. Or maybe it just wasn't like any other movie and that was hard to accept. Anyways I am left confused and blanking out and dizzy and scared to go to sleep tonight for fear of a never ending dream. But! what if I'm supposed to feel that way, maybe that is life. What do I do with it? Oh yes, I could go through that endless stream of information again which seemed so familiar and made sense when I could concentrate but that really seems a waste. Another enternity, but constricted by exhausting damned time. So now I'd like to end life and wake up but I'm afraid of something I've never experienced before. I'm afraid it could end up like that restless dream and so I give up. Yet again I fall back into time another thousand years until my time to go.

This isn't the original. It was much better before. Gosh darn. Um so no, I don't want to type anymore. It's starting to look more and more like Waking Life and my tired head begs me to stop.

An abundance of things to say or not say.

I do not like tuna fish. If I did I would eat it. But I do not.

It gives me such delight.
I think I am like the color green. It grows on trees and is sometimes chewy. Sometimes I like repetition. But most times I do not. It is painful. Chris is home. His eyes are very blue. And there's many other things to say. Sometimes everyone is a gerbil vender. I lost my eyes. I lost my eyes. I lost my eyes. Love is a chicken breast, all smooth and large and white and awkward. But honestly it is not awkward. I like chicken. Especially when someone else has cooked it. Tom is a catepillar these days. I do not like the smell of Halloween candy which is why I traded it in for the smell of pot and BO. Concierta! I will not tell you about it. though because I have already told you about it. I like coconut soup. I wish I could stop thinking about feets. I am not really thinking about feets though I am only thinking of the sentence I wish I could stop thinking about feets. I am not even really thinking about the sentence I wish I could stop thinking about feets though, I am merely repeating it silently in my head. But it is not silent because it is getting louder to a point I might just say it to my mom when she gets home. I sat in an ant pile today. The rest of the day was itchy. And my scalp tingles lots. I think love is good. And anything that is good is only because of love. Some people think I'm just crazy because I am not logical. Apparently. Apparently I am not logical. Logical. Logical. I think Matthew is a nice person. I have not done anything but write sentences and words. Words, I have come to realize have no meaning anymore and like Bright Eyes, we speak with ruined tongues and the words we say weren't meant for anyone. But I do not like Bright Eyes and I was trying in my mind last night or the night before, whenever I decided to take a shower, to justify why I do not like Bright Eyes. I do not like the phrase I've got nothing left to lose. It's bothersome. We've only ever had nothing. Something had to be given to us. But we've never owned it. "My life is a cup of sugar I borrowed before time began and forgot to return". It's endless. Sick cycle carousel. I remember that song. And I was the only person who ever liked it. A whack on the head with a glass hammer. You must not move sir. I do not like grass stains but I enjoy grass juice. Squeezing it in my palms gives a sensation like no other earthly experience could come close to. Now is the time for reform. They say I am quiet. I say I have nothing to say. As you can see. Words mean nothing. Not anymore. I do not like them. I just write them. The points and lines and dashes and slashes look like pretty pictures though. And so that's okay. I think I will move to Scotland. I do not have any sock puppets. If I did I could have put one on my arm and raised it above my head and shouted. At an FIF concierta. Some things are left better off unexplained. Glue sticks do not work. My feline beast has entered the room. And she has said my popularity polls do not look good. I think raspberries are good. But mostly I just think God is good. I have a piece of feta cheese in my hair. I think I need a middle school boy zapper. We'll make great pets.

I need you to remember. I need you to know. Something very important:
Exclamation points only come in 1's and 3's. People are only good and real in 1's and 2's. And God is love. And He IS.