I want to quit smoking. I just haven't gotten to the point of wanting to do so enough to stop currently. Dramaramas' Last Cigarette is hovering in my brain at the moment. Taught my roommate how to play Blast Billiards. This may seem insignificant, but there is in fact a significance that I may choose to reveal at a later time.

A little late getting this down today, but no biggie: I am also keeping a separate journal at Live Journal. Spent the afternoon listening to Gary Numans' I; Assassin and Warriors. Snuck a listen-to of Metal Rythym. Introduced a friend to TSOL, The Sugarcubes, the Re-Flex, and amazing bladder control. Had a very strange, intriguing evening, which reached across the span of night to seize the following morning. I however seized something else all together. I really need to shave. I simply hate the barabaric practice of scraping my face with a metal blade in the interest of personal appearance (vanity).

Today, I fulfill a promise to myself, and begin my other journal series. I will resolve here and now to write completely and honestly. Not that I have not been honest here: I have however come nowhere near completeness. My mind is a mess, and my life will soon follow if I do not take steps to order things out. Chaos is not bad in and of itself: we need it to bring Order forth after all.

A new day is upon us. Is it in fact possible to get to much sleep? I think so. Susanne Vega agrees with me: "There's so much to do, and I'm Tired Of Sleeping". BNL back me on this: "Who Needs Sleep?" David Gilmour wants to "Play, and your cares will go away...Until We Sleep". I don't want to join the Smithereens "Behind The Wall Of Sleep". I'm with Warren Zevon: "I'll Sleep When I'm Dead." To all fans of the novel "Logans' Run", I say: "REJECT SLEEP CITIZEN".

Some kind of "mental", anyway. New Comic Day was a sweet tune of $96 dollars, American Large. 96 G.I. Yankee greenbacks. Ah, well, I love my hobby so. Now trying to read "East Of Eden", while also trying to get into a major writing project, run a role-playing game, and re-build a shattered social life. Musically, I am all over the page. George harrison and Gary Numan. Paul Simon and KMFDM. Warren Zevon and Praga Khan.

Although I don't recall the direct quote, there is a passage in "Atlas Shrugged" (Ayn Rand), which reads something like this: (page 216) " All they knew was that someone somewhere was struggling against great odds, and winning." I often revisit that passage (in it's entirety, it's a powerful and moving passage). I strongly recommend "Atlas Shrugged" to everyone in earshot. I find myself in contention with seemingly overwhelming odds, but my opponents are not the sort that I can quantify a victory easily. Sex Bomb Boogie. Love Missile F-111. Teenage Thunder. Satellite. M.A.D.

And here we are. Only, I am not Born To Be King, nor am I a Prince Of The Universe. Pity, that. Ah well. Gary Numan is good to lift weights to. Especially if his alienated, lonely, and somewhat embittered lyrics resonate with you. On the other hand, Rammstein and Skinny Puppy might better help you tap your hidden anger for the extra burst of energy. Paul Oakenfold is great way to cool down, but Art Of Noise is a great way to warm up: Try The Chameleons' Dish. Sometimes, release is nowhere near as wonderful as suspension. I've never wanted to fall to my death: merely wanted the sensation that is leaning into the fall. We must reconcile ourselves, sometimes, that only the living feel pain. While I would prefer to avoid pain, I do so enjoy living. At times, I wish I were the stupidest man on Earth: that would in turn make everyone else so much smarter than they are.

And before you know it, Sunday's gone. Sunday was an odd sort of day. Loudness included selections from KMFDM, Missing Persons, Peter Gabriel, Praga Khan, MDFMK, The Cure, Jesus & Mary Chain, and Gary Numan. Getting reconciled with a part of myself that I've always suppressed, out of necessity.

"Imagine yourself on the verge of committing an act that you've always found silly or strange..." Yeah, that would be me. Who knew the Right thing would almost inevitably have to be the Hard thing as well? "Inevitable". Such a word. Inexorable. Unstoppable. Unrelenting. And so on. Saturday is a day much like any other: You get up, look into the mirror, and then you spend the rest of the day trying not to be a Bad Guy.

Have been greatly enjoying submitting song lyrics when I see a lack thereof. Over a hundred entries so far: more to come as I find them. Slept a lot last night: unusual for me. Ordinarily, I walk a razor edge of balance between too much and not enough sleep. Sleep is not my friend: I often dread it's coming. Sleep is essentially pretending I'm dead for eight hours a night. Sleep is a time I can't get anything done, because I'm unconscious. Dreams are precious little release in sleep: I would rather read, or watch movies, or write: those are flights of fantasy my conscious mind chooses, as opposed to my sub-conscious. I simply felt the need last night to be unconscious, to avoid missing that which I could not have.