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I have friends that I call true friends. They have stuck by me and looked out for my best interests since i met them. They have never turned their backs on me, even when I turned my back on them. My true friends and I get in fights sometimes, but a resolution is always made because the relationship we share is worth more than that. They don’t team up on me. They don’t condemn me. They understand what is fancied and what is real. They, like me, aspire to live based on spiritual principles. Without these principles as the guiding force in our lives we would surely live based on our own will and would not have the relationship that we have. These are my true friends. Those that do not judge and I believe truly love me. And I love them as well.

trying to sleep and can’t. my head is zinging. can’t stop thinking. sucks. so i’m awake… and wish i could sleep.

Just went for a four hour ride on my BMX around down town. I’m actually (finally) learning how to bunny hop. Well, I did learn to bunny hop tonight but it’s pretty weak. I can get like 6 inches. once i learn to use my body more rather than my arms i should be able to hop like a meter in the air. I’m excited in anticipation for that day and i know it is soon.

I’m quitting smoking. Started taking Zyban on Sunday. I enirely stop smoking in a week or so… I’m pretty stoked on it. I’ve come to find smoking as pointless as smoking meth. Cept, i think nicotine is a harder substance to cease taking than meth. Or maybe i’m just well adjusted to stopping meth.

Last night i started feeling really fucked. I don’t really know what caused it, but it’s continued through most of today. The most observable symptom being that I’m really moody. I’ll be okay one second then slip in to a sudden harsh depression. It’s a really uncomfortable vibe. I feel raw, like i’m not wearing any skin. Like I’m stripped down to bare muscles and everyone is judging me. Really vulnerable. I am saying things that I wouldn’t expect myself to say. And i am feeling like a different person– in a bad way. I don’t feel like myself. Anyway… i hope this episode passes.

I know I’m not supposed to analyze my feelings… but fuck it, i like my amateur psychology.

Possible causes of my moodiness:
• Going on Zyban and the antidepressants fucking with my mood
• My ego having issues with girls. I may expand on this somtime but basically I’m learning a lot about relationships and how i react to girls based on my fucked up instincts.
• Doing my Step Four. Pretty fucked up shit.

I have the new Nine Inch Nails album. It’s not released in stores till May 3 but I have it. It’s good. I would describe it as NiN with less of a Ministry vibe and more of a Depeche Mode vibe. Some really cool production techniques that i want to try out and copy.

I think it’s really gutless that those of you that read this blog read about all my thoughts and dreams and some of you can’t even have the balls to leave some sort of identification when you leave a comment… so, leave your name or someway that i will know who you are if and when you are going to leave a comment.

mmm… just rolled out of bed. embracing a pillow tightly– a shitty replacement for you. I dreamt i was being chased. I was running away, either with somebody or we had gotten split up. Anyway, i was running and i was being chased by contorting faces but it was not scary. I had a feeling o0f assurance that i could easily outrun them. The environment was a familiar dreamscape – everything felt real but under close examination i was in fact inside a huge soundstage. Every object was a prop and every piece of scenery a set, a facade made of styrofoam and metal girders. Upon climbing a rope to escape my pursuers, I reached the top of a styrofoam rock embankment and leapt to another set where a movie was being filmed in a fake city scene. The building sets were all no more than 8 feet tall and i crawled on my hands and knees, because the director, i thought would be mad if i was to ruin his shot. I next remember driving in a minivan, passengers were you and a figure who felt like my dad but was chinese. Karate Kid Father. I dropped him off at his big pink chinese house and he said something wise to us but i am not sure it was important and i don’t remember now.

I heard she is doing good. Or maybe that was my hope. Voices confused for real. I heard she was going to meetings. Is she still? Is she doing well? Is she recieving the attention that I could no longer give? I hope the choice i made was the right one, but it seemed the only one that would have changed anything at all. I hope she is doing good. I hope good is doing her well. She deserves so much more than the state in which i left her. I hope she heard me when I told her I love her. Is she still? I hope she is hearing that I still love her. Voices confused for real.

I want my mohawk back. A couple more months of hair growth and i can resurrect it.

I’m currently sitting in my last class of school. 30 more minutes and I’m done. I’m so done. Well, actually I’m not… I have to make up two classes if i want to graduate and get my certificate. Flash Technologies II and Web Marketing. The first I was so busy (read: fucked on drugs) the week that the final project was done I never handed it in. So I have an incomplete. Web Marketing was a fucking joke. The content was 6 years old and so fucking obvious that it was insulting. I showed up for maybe 3 out of 6 classes. And I missed the final day of class resulting in failing the final because i was fucked on dope (read: on day 4 and psychotic).

But still, even if i have to make up those courses to get a meaningless piece of paper proving that I actually completed the program, I’m really fucking stoked that I am essentially DONE!

What’s next for me? I don’t know. I am going to continue living one day to the next, cause thinking about the seeming innevitability of being unemployed is a dismal and depressing delusion.

Went to Queens of the Stone Age last night with JR. It was facking sweeet. I have a fire in my belly for drums. “The spice in your tongue is like the taste in your bones for the bass.” Gonna drive to Seattle this weekend to pick up my kit. Starting a band: Straight Pepper Diet.

we are alone here. i’m alone pursuing a glimmer of hope which i saw as a child and and feel destined to fulfill. it is my only purpose. all else is fictional. all else is an act.:. i dreamt we were at The Globe. a faceless crowd witnessed as we witnessed only ourselves. i fell back asleep and into a dream where you spoke in metaphors and tongues and i understood you entirely because it was my fantasy too and our tongues were connected at birth. for a moment the costumes shot off us in to the dirt and reflected in your eye was a glimmer of hope that i confused for yours, but it was only my reflection. later, after tea we embraced eyes shut for two centuries enrobed in each others skin. the others’ warmth enough to satisfy our sperfluous desires.

i dreamed about you last night. you had a role as the female counterpart. I was Winston and you were Julia in that pastoral scene from 1984. The utopian grassy green world outside the gloominess of Oceania. There, everything was perfect. You and I were together and okay for as long as that dream lasted. I savor it still.