For safety's sake, please keep both hands on the keyboard at all times. Nothing bad can come of keeping your hands busy.

At any rate, here I am, looking to babble into this thing and make a coherent paragraph or two. Or maybe not so coherent. I don't know. Regardless, I'm here. Pow!

My online comic I can't draw is going to be moved soon to a Keenspace site. It's a great, free service to help out people with online comics. It should improve the organization situation. So, I'm looking foward to that.

Tomorrow, also, I'm going to look at a ridiculously cheap, still-under-warranty Galant GTZ...since at present I really don't have a car (in case you were wondering, the reason for this is a) the talon isn't trustworthy. b)the lease ran out on the maxima I was driving c)I'm currently driving my sister's accord while she shares a car with my parents back home).

I saw Minority Report a few nights ago...it was very entertaining, but had a few plot holes in it. At any rate, I don't regret having spent money on it...and that's really all I ask.

Stupid self-serving part of journal coming next. Just a warning. Don't read it unless you want to go "huh?". This is my journal, and I'll be as vague and confusing and moronic as I damn well please.

Why do I do this to myself? it never does me any good. go backrehashrelive what I never lived in the first place. self-serving pity stolen from others. what the fuck. what do i get out of it? nothing. just want to shred fucking EVERYTHING and dissappear for awhile, because i know that will bring me all of the idiotic pain i desire in the first place. been getting worse lately, reading chains embedded in cement bricks to bind to my ankles and head. here i am, it's 3am, and i'm tiredawake and fighting away and grinding music through my flesh and into my bones in hopes of eliciting a definitive feeling. what self-serving worthless part of me is making me do this? why has it been making me do this for so long? hollow...everything's hollow. me. my voice. my intentions. my head. want to yell and fill the air with rage but i know i'll do what i do best. nothing. must.stop.being.such.a.waste.and.get.a.fucking.SPINE.

just another day,
let the sun bake me.
just another night
let the lines forsake me.