I know my faith has meaning
but I've forgotten why
It's so important to me
I can't remember why
Living... a phantasm of the nerves
Girlfriends... chemicals in your head
Good days... eventually oxidize
Put them... with thoughts that escape your mind's eye
Right now, we're sick of everything. I have to work on my confidence a bit. I shouldn't have to explain away my morality to friends. David, no I didn't really want to see The Minority Report if it meant deliberately lying. For much less money, I had just as much honest fun downtown. I don't want people to feel bad when plans fall through because I always have backup plans. I couldn't live with just one course of action, because all too often, that course is cut off. Case in point, my car. And no, I still don't feel like talking about it. I don't want people to feel bad because of a moral decision I make, either. I don't feel bad about the data in my set; I simply decide based upon it.
Good days eventually oxidize. I like that. On the one hand, it's nihilistic, but if you think about it the way that David put it, so do the bad ones. Live for the moment and you will never be disappointed because there will never be any past or future plans to fall through. I wonder, when my body is finally interred and my memories of both good days and bad are broken down by bacteria and the chemical processes of equilibration, whether the expression that will be eaten away from my face by time and worms will be a smile of contentment or one twisted by regret.
Seems like I'm fucked forever. I can't decide if I want to write a story that's true to life at the cost of offending pretty much everyone I know, or if I want to continue to wait for some larger inspiration to come along. I might not do either. In the meanwhile, I should start revising and posting roman_a_clef. It's a good story, dammit. I just need to have faith in myself.