I�m sitting here in my bleak room imagining all my friends laying in their beds sleeping soundly meanwhile my brain pounds at the backs of my eyes. I�m beginning to hate these little white pills. A crutch, a light switch for an overactive mind. I wonder what my friends are dreaming about right now? It�s an odd thought, to be sure. Fears, hopes, carnal desires.... I�ve got to be awake in 4 hours or so and here I sit reading waiting for the black spots to appear in my vision that signals my coming release from consciousness.

Speaking of black spots, I re-read my last entry, and in the sleep deprived state I�m in, every dark shadow cast by the glow of my monitor becomes a sickly black spider bitching at me for not offering a spot of tea. Oh, that and my skin is crawling with the renewed freshness of the memory. That�s just fucking wonderful, some people are haunted by the memory of that hooker they mistakenly offed in some seedy Vegas motel or that poor little alter boy they sodomized in the name of God, me? I�m haunted by Charlotte�s bitch of a cousin who isn�t smart enough to build her damned web away from a door.

Next thing I�ll know, I�ll have an irate pig banging down my door snorting �You bastard!!�.

Maybe it�s karma because of Charlie (Chuck). For any of you interested in that particular stain on my karmic quilt, it all started here and went to the following entry, and then again here. Of course, it ultimately ended here.

Someone out there is laughing at me again.

That�s okay, I can take it. I just want to sleep god damn it. And yes, I do realize the more I want to sleep and the more anxious I get about not sleeping, the more I won�t sleep. But you know what? That�s all well and good on those nights where I don�t have to wake up early, but right now it�s fucking vexing me! I laid down to go to sleep at 11:30pm and um.. sat there all Zen like, making sure my mind never really touched upon anything too profound or perplexing to ruminate on (never works, but I keep trying). Right.

Ah, well... My fingers are tingling as I type and my eye sight follows rapid movements of my head just a bit slower then normal. All this reflecting, bitching, and moaning has served it�s purpose. Occupy my simple mind long enough to let the little white pill sneak up behind it and bash the fucker on the.. er, well.. you know what I mean. It�s pretty bad when you have to distract your mind..

�Hey look, a shiny object!�

Goats and chapstick,

-G