It�s been an interesting day today and I�m going to tell you why, imagine that. The actual events aren�t all that interesting, now that I�m mentally organizing the day, but the few realizations I made regarding my behavior towards others are. (I think so, damn it!)

So after battling with linux for the better part of the day (I won!) I go hit all-you-can-eat-and-drink Sushi. Can we say� �Fucking YUM!�.. Yes, I hate that place, really. I go in all excited and I waddle out, fat and drunk. But this was sort of the start of this growing realization of just how detached from things I used to be really emotional about. Now, this may seem nothing new to those who�ve been reading how I�m becoming detached, et cetera and all that, but this is damned detached even for me.

Cool, all well fine and good. It was a friend of mine�s birthday today also and one of the people I went to sushi with was the former art director for some company here in town so he managed to angle us some tickets to go see La Femme.

Let me take this time to remind people of what I thought about this show.

Right, so anyway. Back to my point� Uh.. fuck, what was my point? *sigh*

Anyway, I�m simply tired is what it really boils down to. I extended a bit of myself tonight, more then usual, and it simply thudded to the floor, a lifeless thing that wasn�t even acknowledged. Yeah, I get the point. Fine. Is it really a bad thing if I don�t want to do this anymore? How many times are we supposed to do this before it�s okay to give up? If I keep falling off the horse, time after fucking time, you bet your god damned ass I�m going to stop trying to get back on it. I may be a masochist in some sense but I�m not an idiot. Why should this be any different?

Tempered steel may be strong but it�s uncomfortable and inhuman. Is that what needs to happen? Pound the life out of me? I don�t even know if I care anymore. That�s how bad it�s become. I�m annoyed because I think I should be annoyed, not any real annoyance. I�m feeling this out of obligation, it seems, when really.. I don�t care. Fuck it.

At this point I�d like to thank each and everyone of you out there that have taken a mild interest in my life and writing, be it out of morbid curiosity or something else. It�s a comforting safety tether as I start out over the void.

Oh yeah, go read this, it�s interesting. Then go back and read my review of La Femme (more accurately, the diatribe afterwards) and have a good laugh. Yes, it�s funny, even to me. If I can�t make fun of myself then no one can.

I�m going to gobble some Tylenol and go the hell to bed.

-G