Nob 22, 2006


I do not relish the fact that I can burn his house because I have nothing against the people who are with him. I am not happy that I cannot make the first move, that I can only take the skills and flying stars to his face once he has done the damage. I mean, the guy's got more age, more anger, more creativity. Only some areas where I have the edge and I sure as hell won't write them down here.

We both stand to lose some.

God, I hope no one goes online looking for a supposed mistake.

That damage he can make, God, it gets me to thinking. How many centimeters deep can he go before I cross the line I refuse to cross? I mean, not again.


Never messengered much. Lose more friends that way, I guess. But Butasnachucks ymed. Seems she took her shoes all the way to the Netherlands. Picaresque adventures. I wonder if she'll mind influencing any of my characters. I wonder who of my friends will mind. It's not that they can help it if they did. I mean, not even I can help it.

Nob 20, 2006


To write some. Even without substance. Politicians and actors can do it, why can't I? I guess it's the confidence then. That's what I lack. Me ought to express somewhere else. Here's better than the girl. The girl must have been bored with what I say and what I am. And I'm not about to inflict my anxieties on students. Thank goodness for family then. But they all have jobs and what I have is a damn shame of a career plan. I mean, writing? Be gracious! Somewhere a woman died because I failed. I pretty much have to say this: she died in vain. To write some, ha! Thanks for letting me live, woman. Thanks for nothing.