I wrote a song longing for a man and my longing was assuaged. I wrote a song longing for a man and my longing turned into a hot zone of bad vibes and coming to terms with the complete ashy lack of morality some people have; temporary assuagement of longing duly noted. I wrote a poem and it came true, because I am a true bard. What I sing comes into being. I can shape the future with song. It’s a big responsibility, I wish I was a better person.
I wrote a novel and in that novel the human tells the alien to keep a diary and given that she has perfect autobiographical memory she doesn’t see the point. She does it anyway because George keeps bugging her to do things as the humans do, it’s ‘interesting and fun’.
You’re different when the diary is over.
I started reviewing my diary – my blog – from April 2005 and it’s nothing but domestic arguments and being fucked over at work. I’m not that human anymore. I don’t have domestic arguments any more. I’m not being fucked over at work any more, although capitalism still grips me hard.
I misplaced my physical diary.
Later – I found it. It was a journey.
I’m laughing at myself.
Bloodwork is complete, I’ll find out what’s going on eventually I imagine. This one was for thyroid function, I’m so sleepy. I’m not cold, though.
