i keep working my way, and now, the end is near.

i try to put a positive spinners on things, and then came you with your negativity. whatever, i'll be around, regardless of what you do.

back at work. it's better than being homeless...i think. by the way, how does a wallet empty so quickly? what am i buying? someone must be sneaking into my house, (eddie perhaps) and only taking the money. as long as they don't touch the cd's.

you ever notice how a grocery store or supermarket will have one cute girl who works there? it's always one, never two. is this a plan. when they hire, do they say (whoever they are) "ok, gotta get a looker in here, or no one is gonna get their milk from us." sometimes, this girl is 15. that makes you feel like an asshole for even noticing that she's cute. as if you didn't have enough to feel bad about.

i know it's all bull, but i keep trying to find meaning in something, you know? i buy this, i buy that. a new cd, a book, a movie. all good stuff, but not the solution. everything costs money, except the important things. this from a guy with over 300 cd's, and dozens of books. the closest i'll ever get to a monk is when i play one.

been eating a lot lately. talk about fools gold, that's worse than the other habits. ahh, man's search for meaning in a godless universe.

switching richard gere's, i drank some jack lemmon juice last night, here comes the brevin knight, the only time i'm not without you. i had lemmon juice, than oj, an odd couple, but it felt like i hit a homer simpson after drinking them.

all the kids, including jason, failed the science test that i wrote about last week. their performance was weak. i don't mean to come on strong, but it was bad. the thing is, if everyone fails at anything, i think it's time to look at who is giving the test, and the test itself. say you go into a city and no one can find work. at that point, you can't blame the people anymore, it's the system. the individual is trapped in a terrible tragedy. it goes by the name of america.

flowers are nice, but i can't fight the feeling that they belong in the earth. like oil. we plunder and pollute, so the populace can live pain free, but the pain will eventually come. in the long run, the race will be lost. in the meanwhile, the cars will crowd the streets, flowers will furnish our tables, and diamonds will dazzle all of us. and when death brings its devastation, denial will not delay the destruction. well, at least we will have filled up the time with tedious trinkets.

i have been in a detached sleep walk for a while now. and this is the prime of my life! you know, you want to live, you want to feel, see, touch, smell, everything of note. instead, we settle for shit. we get a hint of the real, a glimpse of the genuine, but in general, greatness eludes us at every turn. we are too busy surviving, and we can not surpass the surreal that is our fate. so, we cope. we put on the stereo, turn on the tv, take a walk, have sex. occasionally, we reach a state of wonder, but in the main, we are murdered by mediocrity. we are blind, fumbling in the dark, unable to find the light switch. at times, the light shines...mingus plays his bass, fellini directs, a dog licks your hand. and then, quickly, it is dark again, and we go back to feeling around, in the hope that we will again locate the switch. sadly, most of us don't even know where the switch is. this guarantees an eternity of darkness. find the light, my friend, wherever it is to be found.

as sinatra said "i'm for anything that gets you through the night." even gladys. sinatra compared belief in god to drinking jack daniels. dolly must have been proud. my dad quoted sinatra for his paper in high school that argued against mandatory school prayer in public schools. the paper got a d. teacher must have been a perry como guy. i'm waiting for some philosophical musings from our current stars. haven't heard anything yet. no, jolie adopting half of africa doesn't count, basie. until she joins the iraqi resistance, i don't want to hear about her. some may get their jolie's off looking at her, but i would dan rather eat halle berries and mariah carey on in my own helen way, for i am keeping it on the j lo, which is the marc anthony of maturity. for remember, the sean penn is mightier than the sword. if you had a george clooney, you wood know that, nick. at night, while you sit on the elton john, perhaps you will realize what shit it all is.

until then, swing for the fences. and to hell with bill gates.