I’m feeling adventurous right now. I’m tired and dead but I feel like running and breaking against the wind, diving into spontaneity. I’m feeling abstract and misunderstood, but I’m happy this way. I don’t think I’d ever appreciate someone who didn’t find me to be a puzzle, complex and strong in her concealed existence, yet always about to collapse.

These feelings could mark a significant change in my life, or could just be what happens when you listen to Portishead while you write. What are you going to do?

I’m going to go watch a movie and pass out on my couch. I’m so pissed off right now- the internet on our beautiful computer isn’t working, and the connection on the crappy computer works but it’s so slow I can barely surf. Argh!