It's 5:30, son (1115) 2005-04-12 ( Enter your search terms Submit search form Web murk.diaryland.com

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Ah... I'm not sure why I'm still awake.

Hm.

Somehow four hours went by.

People don't update their diaries enough to entertain me. In penance, I demand notes and guestbook entries!

I only realized how late it is when my play list repeated.

So today, I completed half of my essay outline. I need to write about four pages a day to finish it on time.

Sometimes I think music is nearly the equivalent of lying. Most songs promise a beauty that I doubt many will achieve.

KEANU leaves and flies to save CARRIE-ANNE MOSS from being shot. She is SHOT anyway. Then KEANU reaches into her matrix code and pulls out the bullet in a comical fashion.

CARRIE-ANNE MOSS
That was preposterous.

Ha ha.

This is a dicey proposition, though I guess staying up is of no help. I need to finish this essay. I'm beginning to feel that more resides on this than my english mark.

I'm not sure why, but Kasabian makes me want to sing. Damn.

I need to try Lily's anti-sin-calcification technique.

I want to blossom in sunlight tomorrow.

I've been mistreating my body. I suppose its reflective abuse.

These are clearly too short to be paragraphs. Why, they're barely a handful of sentences!

Perhaps, AND JUST perhaps, I'll turn everything around this week. I wonder if I can do it.

Calcified. That word has been on my mind a lot recently. I need to learn to bend again.

To flex.
(if there was invisible text, it would be here)
All right, it's long past my bed time. I hope Sef and Mandy are sleeping soundly.

Did you know Trinity was supposed to be a guy?

Mm. Black milk and raised hairs.