It's a nice day. I'm at home alone. At my real home, my first home. It's the middle of the day. There is really only one day. I am deeply unsettled. I guess it's because of Daisy. I guess I am wanted to walk her, or get her to exercise somehow. She has a gimpy leg. She went outside for a bit. She just kept lying down on the floor inside. Screens are so unsatisfying. I need more humans to live with. I'm listening to Broken Social Scene. I watched Waking Life, most of it, at A's. I watched Coffeh Time. I watched Suicide Girls podcast, and I got erect at a video called girls kissing. Now I'm listening to Jason Schwartzman, Coconut Records. My back feels messed up. I have about 7 hours until Mom gets here. I guess I should read or write or something necessary or perfect or something and something or other. I misspelled two words: "coffeh" and "Schwartzman".

There must be a lot of thoughts in between these thoughts. Paris 2004. I'm simultaneously trying and trying not to think about all the people in horrible pain right now. Ignoring dogs is a fatal activity. I feel like all my problems will be solved by watching Youtube videos. Mom said she wonders why wolves don't bark and dogs do. I wondered too. Just IN: Wolves bark, but it's rare. Domestication may have led dogs to bark.

I do not know what my thoughts would be if I did not know A. Driving home, listening to Building Nothing out of Something, I felt heavy wastefulness and disappointment. It is aggravating. I do not know what to do. I do not know who I am. I do not know why we are alive. There has to be a good reason. Maybe not, but we should just live well anyway. Mom made dumb blondies last night. They are so dense and chewy. I don't know what's going to happen. I ate some, listening to Kimya Dawson, then I brushed my teeth. That makes twice today. Wisdom tooth surgery has made me brush a lot more.Yesterday, when Pat was at school, I masturbated in the bathroom to a Suicide Girls video called wet. It wasn't great, because I was afraid he would walk in. I'm trying not to masturbate today. It's just about comforting myself and hiding from my problems, making things worse. I feel really good about this. I told myself I had to get out of the M's house. I cannot see outside and everything is so close. It's scary. And TV and dog and darkness. I'm going to check out that sort of poem on this blog about Bastrop and Ashley. Maybe I'll call it Ashtrop.

I want to live forever.

Why do certain things/situations make my brain tell my eyes to water like crazy (cry). I want to know. Physical emotions, Nadal collapsing and crying and smiling after winning the US open. Dinner with Meemaw was weird. She is 86 and really quiet and distant. David and Tim are weird and very different from each other. ITERATIONS - METAPHOREST.

Something, I want to be. I need. I am myself. I am changing. I can barely see the light outside of my own head holes. What is inside? Where does it end? What began all this? I'm sure I'll find something to keep happy. Bye bye for now, papa.