9:00 p.m. - Thursday, Jun. 17, 2004
Endless
I'm having some difficulty figuring out where I fit in. Too cool not to be, nowhere near cool enough to want to be. Does that ever end? I mean, does it go away? Seriously, I'm waiting. I'm waiting for my blunt cut and comfortable cotton pants. For the babies and the day job, mailing lists and appliances. I'm waiting for that to be good enough, to make me happy, because sometimes doing what I'm doing makes me feel alone. Deflated and alone. Like, everyone just wants to know how they're better than you. That's what its really about, right. Style, sound, beauty. Its not really as much fun as its supposed to be. I'm always too real or too fake. Too wild or too timid. Too smart or too dense. I didn't know that, so now I'm not what you thought I was. I knew something you didn't, now I'm on top again. Now I'm not. They didn't call. They called but I didn't answer. I can't get out. I wouldn't even know what to do with it any other way. So, it never does end. I bet it never does end for me. Fucking great.
