Basically, I’ve resolved that every time I wind up on the internet, I’m gonna drop a little note this way, to let you guys know what’s on my mind, and for my own future reference. I’m working on a small stack of minibooks, but I’m not sure if any of them will ever get completed, especially since I keep coming up with new ideas when I’m in the middle of a project. Hopefully between dumping off ideas between here, keenspace, and the minibooks, I can clear all the excess junk out of my head and maybe regain some focus. Yesterday, I just happened to catch a video of Celine Dion covering an AC/DC song. I was completely hypnotized in morbid fascination; first of all, that someone actually thought this was a good idea in the first place, and that person convinced her it was a good idea. I had to keep checking to make sure I wasn’t asleep and making the whole thing up.

I had a dream a few nights ago that I do not remember a single detail of, but I remember that something in it was so important I needed to write it down, so I did. But when I woke up the next day, apparently I had only dreamed that I wrote the important stuff down. If it’s something that I need, then hopefully I’ll dream it again.

For my final note of the day, two days ago I was in 7-eleven buying a soda. As I approached the counter, there was a woman in her mid-forties making a purchase. As I approached the counter, she turned to me and said, “I hate people.” Before I could reply, she made this healthy little chuckle. It would help to note that she had a smart looking cropped haircut, a nosering, and I could see part of a sleeve tattoo under her shirtcuff. You could easily picture her on a motorcycle. As the lady behind the counter gave her her change, she requested enough lottery scratchoff games to eat up all of her change. “What the hell, blow it all, Fuck it!” she said, “I fucking hate this town. I can’t believe how long I’ve lived here!”, and then she chuckled again and smiled at me. I’m really not sure what she wanted me to say, so I just smiled back. The idea that there are women my mom’s age that ride Harley-Davidsons and express Brando-esque angst is definitely one of the things that keeps me going. The possibility that one day I might have sex with James Duval is another…