2001-07-11 8:36 a.m.
rippling ruh roh blam

as I sit here with Rainbow Monkey smiling up at me, the energy of the world seems stranger and stranger. I don't know how much of this is due to fatigue, lack of sleep, taking crap care of myself, or the pressure on me right now to create, create, create.

Each day that passes feels more and more uncertain. I wake up at 6AM, only to fall back asleep and have ten dreams before waking up again an hour later. I dreamt a few days ago that I was on a date and later in bed with a beautiful Latin girl who had an artificial cock (one installed, not a strap-on toy). I dreamt yesterday morn that I arrived at work at 1PM, and that an old co-worker of Dan's was working where I was and would help cover my lateness (which is odd, since I'm having lunch with her and other DC folks today). I don't remember this morning's dreams, but everything has that edge, like I'm falling, swimming in a rippling life.

Even my room, which I haven't had the money to kit out yet (i.e. -- paint, hang shelves, transform) feels strange.

What do you do when you get what you've striving for?

Live.

If we pull off what we're trying to for San Diego and life in general, I can't say I'm totally sure what I'm going to do with myself. What if I get all of my debts paid off in short order and find myself with steady income and no earthly ties other than deadlines? Where will I go?

Dan talks about getting a van and seeing America, and that has a certain appeal, as long as we can veer up into Canada and down into Mexico...I've spent little time in either. Someone on Nerve asked me if I'd come visit her in Montreal, and that's a city I've never thought about going to.

If you stick a carrot in an electric fan, will it puree?

I was too exhausted last night to work, and Dan was out last night until 6AM, so I doubt we're going to get anything done today, at least until tonight.

I need some fun. Dramatically. An energy injection. I feel like this infection I've had is the aftereffects of acid, drawn out for weeks...like my body just can't catch up to the needs of my mind, and my mind works too fast, tires itself out, and my body doesn't know what to do about it.

Maybe this is another my drug experiences. When I took psilocybin, I found I could access that state of being for a long time, years in fact, after that single dose. I wonder if this isn't the same thing...maybe I'm a human chemical amplifier. Maybe I'm a Fender for strange drugs. I'd love to be the Stratocaster of ecstatic revelation...that'd be pretty hot.

�

left turn:

it seems I've got some new readers...HI. Time for a few shout-outs:

Mags, nice to see you gettin' your house in order...now get writin'! *cracks the whip*

I can't read Jeni's diary right now, as I'm stuck with Netscape and it doesn't like something about her formatting (email me 'bout that, Jeni...I'm a Web producer, and I could probably figure it out)... even so, her friend Kacie has found me through the ether... you guys rock. It's a massive tickle to see what (and this is going to SO date me) young girls think about these days. I can imagine, but I'm rarely right. Maybe that's because I never really thought like a kid my age even when I was their age. But you two not only have an amazing outlook on life, but manage to kick some fun flavor too...I may not know punk, but I know what I like. :)

Onea always manages to give me food for thought, even when she doesn't mean to. I don't read nearly enough, and she gives me little pokes in the side with her writing, as if to say, "get off yer lazy ass, boyo!"

and then there's my friend haroun, who's going to be in town at the worst possible moment. :( argh...hopefully we'll get to hang out soon.

�

left turn:

Everything pouring out of me lately is about disconnectedness, shifts in consciousness and ability, tweaked reality and people with missions. Except for the monkeys, though they have a mission too. But that's for me to know for now. :)

Speaking of which, keep your eyes peeled...I'll spill the big Website mega project I'm working on in a day or two, as it's going to be interesting...once this goes online, I guess we're officially serious about writing together. Bizarre.

Let's go to the bazaar and buy caramels and soft toys, and cheap digital imagination cards to while away the afternoon, toy with consciousness and feel the sun on our faces after, lowering back down to earth like the cars in the Jetsons.