There was someone here tonight, I think.
"There was a messenger."
"We were sent for."
Of course I'm watching a film,
a film of a play.
She gave me earrings.
I've been complaining of late that I need a pair,
I complimented her on a pair she had worn...
She left them for me.
Existentialism gives me a headache.
"You've been here before."
"And I know which way the wind is blowing."
"We are Inclusively players."
Nearing the End of this film, I can only see Hamlet, Act III, Scene II:

Ham. Lady, shall I lie in your lap? [Lying down at OPHELIA’S feet.
Oph. No, my lord.
Ham. I mean, my head upon your lap? 72
Oph. Ay, my lord.
Ham. Do you think I meant country matters?
Oph. I think nothing, my lord.
Ham. That’s a fair thought to lie between maids’ legs. 76
Oph. What is, my lord?
Ham. Nothing.
Oph. You are merry, my lord.
Ham. Who, I? 80
Oph. Ay, my lord.

The definition of a LART

Musing on my last post, I think I need a nom de guerre. Something like James Baader or James the Snake or maybe just "Spike". Any suggestions?

My Hero

Icy Hot Stuntaz. As seen on Fark

Missed the bus, late for work. I don't know why it takes so much effort for me to get up, maybe it was since I woke up at 9am and didn't go back to sleep for an hour or so. I woke up on the bathroom floor, wrapped in all my blankets, sweating. I hit the snooze button on the alarm twice, then sat in the shower for a time. I scrambled for some clothes that didn't smell too bad then hit the door. I can't stand the sunlight, walking outside it hits me like a slap on my cheek. I finally make into work, my mood improves. "Make a joke, share a smoke" to quote someone.

Awoke from a strange dream. I'm working in a gas station, the kind that just has a small kiosk, just enough room for one person and some smokes behind glass. Redneck pulls up with a shitty car, trailer attached. I pull a gun on the redneck from behind the counter and demand his wallet. He swears, then complies. Some time later, the police arrive but are unable to find any trace of the wallet or the gun. Police and redneck depart. Redneck returns later with a gun. I manage to escape to a nearby garage. Redneck discovers me, then, after a struggle at a door with a padlock on the outside, I manage to lock him inside then keep running. Why am I awake at 9am?

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead is playing, I've just finished chatting with Thea Girl You Want. I think I'm done for the night.

Music, When Soft Voices Die

Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory --
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heap'd for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts when thou are gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.

-PB Shelley

I was reading one of the local weeklies today and I came across a picture that closely resembled someone I had a one-night stand with. Some of the details in the article matched what little I knew about her. The names didn’t match.

There's a strange, gray area where relationships start to transition. From acquaintance to friend, sometimes to lover or family member; each step is a confusing mess of emotion, desire, and drunken accident. With all my friends and loves, I’ve tried not to make hard-cut lines between this and that, rather I prefer to let each relationship stand for what it is. You kiss some people, deeply and passionately; others get a peck on the cheek like a sibling. Sometimes your devotion is that of a spouse; other times you may make love but only see each other on occasion. One’s level of participation level may vary from time to time; nothing is a constant unless you make some commitment. I think this attitude has gotten me into a lot of trouble over the years.