0:38 my titles don't mean much

that's what I realized while looking at my livejournal archives.

work today. it's work every day. at the library. they start playing live jazz in the back. WTF? it's the library.

some things I wrote while on my way back home tonight:

everyone writes autobiographies, this is me getting an early start.

undisciplined writing is what I do. I thrash the keyboard around.. it hangs by the cord. pick up loose keys, and rearrange them into words. might be messy. but it's worked so far.

"the truth is..." and I couldn't read what she was writing in her diary any more. it was on the 6 train and I was getting off. it's different from reading over someone's shoulder. slightly.

about living life. I enjoy reading. currently reading "born standing up" steve martin's biography. good stuff.

things learned so far. just do things. do what I love. at this moment in time. it's not to do an ad for sapporo beer. I want to stay up and finish that book. read through the night. 'til my eyes tear up.

read 'til I need glasses. (which I currently don't wear; important distinction).

it's hot. I'm tired. but there are only 37 days left.

don't know why I'm counting down. no idea why. it's destructive obsession.

0:46am. bam. 4:45am wake up. maybe I should stay up all night. might be better for morale.