Hehe, I wrote this during an interesting session of drinking and playing music at Mark's house. I find it very, um, odd?

Real human interaction!! Is that so much to ask? I'm sick of being another passing face. There are enough of those, enough faceless robots that mimic real humanity. I should laugh. I should find all of this funny yet somehow it all just melts together into one failed parody of all that should be real. People walking down the street so happy together playing "Ignore the drunk". People talking with an amazing amount of earnestness about the latest episode of MTV's The Real World. Where did feelings go, where did thinking go? Hello Jack, I am a bastardized, whacked out RIPOFF. Teach me to play baseball.

I believe that the "Jack" I refer to is Jack Kerouac.

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I love riding that bike. Today the wind was blowing into my back so even though I was going about 20 mph it felt like I was almost standing still. It was amazing to watch the world just slide away behind me while my legs just rythmically pumped 1..2..1..2..1..2..1..2..1..2..1..2. I don't know if anyone will understand this but I just feel so complete and at peace when I'm exercising, my body switches over to autopilot and my mind can just wander about on some golden nimbus cloud.

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Bah, I knew there was a reason I didn't post here anymore, and now I just found out. So if you two happen to be reading this then let me just tell you that I have smoked pot exactly once in the last over a year or so. I also have no intention of doing it again any time soon because that's not what I want in life. Smoking pot and being 30 years old and sitting around a crappy appartment watching TV and listening to Pink Floyd music is not my idea of a good life. I feel sad for Mark and Mark and Kris and Chris (yes, four people, two pairs of similiar/same names) because they aren't going anywhere and you can tell. It's not as if they are even happy about this, one of the Marks was asking me how "do you do school man?" and I just looked at him and said that I don't think it's a matter of how, it's a matter of why. I want to go to school beyond highschool because working in a fast food store or a bank or a supermarket would drive me absolutely insane. I couldn't handle going through life knowing that I could be doing something a thousand times more interesting than serving pizza all day. Okay, now I ramble.

What I mean to say is this, don't worry about me and pot. Don't worry about pot and your daughter. Don't worry about pot and your daughter and my car and me driving. Don't worry about any of those things because it is really not an issue, there is nothing to worry about in those respects. I'm sure if you tried though you could find something real to worry about, but then again you are just parents and that is your job.

Hello everyone. I haven't posted in a while and I know that no one is reading this anymore but that was on purpose I think. I didn't really write here because "here" was way to, not me for lack of a better term. But that's in the past, now is in the here.

Yeah, so I got off work exactly one hour ago and I'm as high as a fucking kite. Make, from work, and I took off and smoked some groovely herb after work. We talked about shit and laughed and listened to a weird radio station show with a DJ from work. Pretty funny shit I tell you.

Suddenly got very lazy, must go now. Bye.

One of my boss type people happens to be friends with Wingnut. The first person to e-mail me and correctly tell me why anyone would know about Wingnut gets a prize.