2004-01-09 - 10:04 a.m.

A Story About Nothing.

Y�know somethin�? Getting myself to sit down and type some shit out in this here fucking white elephant of a project has been like Anal Dentistry � like a root canal through my rectum. So what do I do? After the procrastination, after the excuses, and after utterly ignoring my Mac altogether for days? I type nothing.

That�s what you do when you write. Ya gots nothing to say, ya says it anyhow. And if yer someone like me, ya keep sayin� the shit until it�s said. But YOU don't because you�re be one of THEM fucking people, so you�d by now probably have broken into the obvious �so you give a fuck about my life� entries, or the like.

But I know the truth�people don�t care about the reality of truth. The Truth is SUBJECTIVE, not absolute. What I write, you�ll misconstrue into a premise that you can more easily understand � point being, it�s not what I meant. And that goes for EVERYTHING someone writes.

It�s not the punchline that keeps people hanging on a joke, it�s not the �end of� that makes people hunch closer to a story it�s not cumming that makes 3 hours of fucking fun.

It�s the fucking delivery. It�s the pace. It�s tempo. It�s clever use of word smithing that makes people read. At least that�s what I hope for. A good theory anyhow, but fuck knows if it�s a practical one.

This, however, is the end of the entry. And you�ve read through sentences of nothing to get to nothing and that�s fine by me. I�m more than happy when I can tell a story about nothing at the drop of a fucking hat.

PS: Fuck off. Fuck off really, really hard and try not to think about running up a flight of stairs, toes slipping off the edge of the next and unable to raise your hands in time, catching the slippy stair with top 4 teeth, splintering them with a popcorn kernel crunch. Go ahead. Try.

1 of you fuckers have been accounted for.

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