Dream

Last night I was listening to Doug loves movies and I decided to drive to the liquor store at about 9 pm to buy Bailey's, because I wanted to drink some. I had thought about getting ice cream or a root beer float. It was Sunday and the liquor stores were closed. I went to two. I had fun driving around with the windows down and listening to a public radio world music program.

I need to poop. I am sitting on the living room floor by the TV. I guess Tim put my laptop here to connect the new modem. Pat is sleeping or awake in his room, or he is not here and his door is shut. I am listening to Girl from NYC (Named Julia).

I kept going back to sleep this morning. I ate a slice of bread with peanut butter. It tasted good. I drank coffee and watched Coffeh Time and Apprentice Eh on my laptop. I didn't turn on the TV. I drove to work. It went well. At lunch I bought 5 peanut butter chocolate granola protein bars and ate two on a bench outside while reading The Fallback Plan. It's almost 4 pm now.

I had intense dreams of working at a different Sprouts and trying to find a place to poop and being outside on a break and some jerk boys started shooting a gun at people and I hid under a car and I pushed it at them to try to stop them, but it became very small and they shot at me over it and a bullet went thru some plastic board I had on my back. They killed a young woman, I think a Sprouts employee, and it was very sad. I hated those boys.

We played Magic at Pat's Games yesterday. I had just gotten an email from Aaron about amusements/games and Aristotle, using leisure time in the best way possible. I didn't read it. I don't feel good about myself or much of anything. We ate popeyes chicken. I spilled gravy. We drafted for a couple of hours. Pat took a nap and woke up about 1030 and I went to bed and watched porn for a while and came into my dark blue basketball shorts. Messy and ugly and stupid and hateful.

This morning I thoughts of beds and put something on my blogger since I got a comment from a girl saying she was following me. It feels like I am writing for her now... I should post this and see if she says anything... I definitely will.

I like to think of how much of this she probably won't understand. I barely understand any of it.

Doesn't even know who you are.

I am quite glad to be doing this. I miss introspection and wanting to be better.

I met a man named William at the library. The second time he came in this morning, he extended his hand for me to shake. I told him my name. He is black but that doesn't matter, I just want it to be known. He seems cool. He was waiting for an inter library loan.

I helped a guy who seems middle eastern print something. It took many tries and it felt so good to get it right, he was nice and appreciative and paid for every page that failed.

Anthing else is.

Here:

(Deerhoof busted voice)

I wanna blow up the fucking bomb.
Yes is I go with you Happy town.
Kill daddy dead you blind man
....
by by