Thursday, 18 November 1999

Excepans legrecli planable patignos.

meta-date: Thu Nov 18 23:43:00 1999

Surrounded by the tide of humanity. What do I let in? Drown. The spare phone doesn't have data capabilities, so I can't check my email. Finally managed to get the CD burner working - burned all but one of the discs I wanted - should be able to do the other one tomorrow. Probably the worst band in the world playing in the St. Christopher's tonight. Evil. I am nothing. Fear me. The emptiness calls. Endless scream with no-one to hear. Ting. Tang. Sense. Nothing. No-one. Nowhere. Parcel. Not from Amazon - but they are not the only order I have placed. Lyais. Chaos. Start. Pineapple. Bord. Bork. Cleaver falls. It's a game of choice. No choice. I am me. Nothing prevents that. Nothing can present that. Fistfuck. Dancing spirals around the opportune. Eating mexican rapidly. After images. Nothing. Not aging. Not anything. Tring. Sarrat. Shiver. Goodbye.