The summer is flying by, and as I spend my days as I always have, sleeping till noon until I force myself out of bed only to lounge around for another 2 to 3 hours until I decide how to kill what’s left of the day, I realize it is time again to take action and do something other than this. It’s time to do something other than grow older. How strange it is that I don’t have anything to say anymore. For the past three years it’s been nothing but forced entries, and every time I try to get my groove back, well, I lose it as quick as it came. These days I find myself believing in nothing and my diminishing inspiration is very seldom missed. I must be turning into them. The dreaded them. The clones. The unaffected. The blissfully ignorant. The conformists. The sheep. Them. But this does not sit well with me, and while I know in the back of my mind that I could never join the other side, I suspect that life would be a lot easier. My life seems to be repeating itself, but at least I have a plan. There’s always a plan.
June 6, 2004