You know? I have this style sheet thing going on in the head of this document and I never use it. whats with that?
Have you heard the news? My phone is dead again. I don't know why, it just is. Telecom doesn't know why, it just is. I telephoned Tony McNeill this morning (my IT guy from the last time - 6 weeks ago - I had problems) and he credited my account some moohlah to sooth my sad sad voice.
Because I am. Sad. Sad. Overly and beyond than that which I should be *looks sideways at that sentence*
Goes to show that without the Net the reason for having a computer becomes like a broken pencil.. completely pointless *Blackadder?*
What should I tell you? It's chilly. 15�C. I know I know.. its relatively chilly for New Zealand okay? I was thinking great deep interesting thoughts yesterday.. doh.. should have written them down I guess.
I had my hair cut on Saturday. Cost me half a weeks wages *gasps* I really do have a good time with Jacci though. Not laughs and such just.. she cuts my hair and I like it and thats worth its weight in gold.
*shaking my head at my email* I love getting mail. Some mail surprises me though. Thoughts I dont suspect eek their way from the lines of email. so easy to write your thoughts. So easy to forget they are on a page.. are tangible.. will be read. Does it feel unreal? would you say those words to my face, to my eyes, in my house? I wonder. I really wonder. The wall of the white screen. Does it feel safe? I asked Phil, when he suggested talking to me via email was a 'safer' option, if I was scary or unapproachable or why would he say that. He hasn't replied. Maybe I am scary. I shall ask him next time he is at work.
I have lost track of my time here. Has it been an hour? or two? Five dollars per hour. cheap enough for the time needed. No one to talk to. You are all not here. I wonder if I will come back tomorrow. I wonder about living in the city. I say I would love it, but walking here tonight I found myself feeling introverted. Do introverts live inner city? or do they need to be a bit left a bit off centre a bit strange or original or.. I may not have enough of a personality to live in the city. Mind you, I might suit living on the 8th floor, seperated from the world. Looking down into streets I dont often walk in.
Maybe I need food. My brain is eating itself. Of all the people I know I need food the least. If I stopped eating it would still take me 15 months to starve to death I reckon. I have that antartic (holy jesus I cant tell a right word from a wrong word.. like a fish out of water) look about me.. orca-ish or penguin-ish. Though I feel the cold. I need more blubber? I need another coat.
Time to leave this place. It's so white its like I am inside the screen. The writing covering the walls is chinese.. or Japanese.. It feels like I am in Japan again. It's dislocating its... its.. I am going home.
My phone is healed.. hooray!
Is it just me? or is everyone a bit sad around the edges? Quentin is. Mike seems to be. Fraz is. I am. Not depressed just.. disappointed or something. Worn out? something. Are you? tell me about it.