Feb 2001

Feb 1
Sunlight

It's really just the sunlight, isn't it? I really should get evaluated. I have to learn how to plan things better, too. Maybe I'll get a [PDA] after all?

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Feb 8
End of Week One

False spring, tech woes, wisdom teeth, “Snatch”, the RIAA, and Ebola.

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Feb 10
High

I want to yell obscenities, not because I'm pissed off or anything, I just think that the world is deserving of obscenities.

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Feb 12
Non-linear and Unpredictable

Why I must force life to be linear and predictable, I do not know, but it is surely the root cause of much of my unhappiness. It is unfortunate that it is easier to be miserable than to be content, but like I'm implying, life really isn't all that linear.

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Feb 12
Another Unsent Letter

You saved my life, I think. I was seriously ready to give up hope completely—I knew that if I went on for another month without things turning around, I didn't want to keep going. But then, by sheer chance, you showed up in my life and taught me what I was going through was (relatively and loosely-speaking) normal, and that something would turn up eventually, and that I wasn't alone. I'm not sure I've used what you've taught me wisely, but I do know that I'm in your debt.

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Feb 14
The Ides of February

Valentine’s Day blows. French movies are awesome. Drug movies are quickly becoming my favorite. Coldplay isn’t too bad. How could I resist an album whose first track is entitled “Don’t Panic”?

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Feb 15
Sunlight and the Ocean

Santa Monica, Venice, high school memories, and my daily requirement of sunlight.

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Feb 19
Without Rhyme or Reason

I feel restless and cramped. Caged, really, with no apparent hope for escape. I cannot even fantasize my way out of this madness, short of hospitalization. Maybe [St. John's wort] will help again, though. I cannot stand So Cal February gloom. I think maybe there are only a few months I can endure.

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Feb 19
Full of Shit

…my mind is notorious for concocting details after the fact. I'm just like my dad.

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Feb 20
Dreaming of Rhyme

Bleh. I dreamnt of [redacted] last night… as I am wont to disclaim, it was nothing perverted. If I were a little more emotional, or if I wasn't so tapped out and bled dry, I might have wept upon waking, but everything is just too little, too late, and what the fuck am I doing here surrounded by people I do not trust, people who would probably sell me if it would turn them a profit.

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Feb 23
Without Rhyme or Reason

Am I a moron or what? My life is like a diluted, bawlderized version of Louis-Ferdinand Céline’s. (My other role model is, megalomaniacally, José Rizal. Frighteningly, I would say Céline’s life is the cheerier of the two.) I would probably never make it as a writer, though. I can always seem to find a Cure song that precisely expresses my misery.

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Feb 24
The Terran Confederacy

Starship Troopers and Starcraft. Should I join the Navy? I got a recruitment packet from the Marines once, but I’ve watched “Full Metal Jacket.” I’d probably end up just like Private Pyle.

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Feb 25
Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want

Good times for a change. See the life I’ve had would make a good man bad. The Art Institute. Mawage. How water-lilies can drive you insane. Voluptuousness and the Crusades.

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Feb 27
Crushed

I redecorated. Whatcha think? Mardi Gras. Unmotivated. Fate wins.

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