Today was the exact opposite of those that came before it. Not that it matters--still a pretty good one. Except I was overcome with a feeling of grogginess. And I can't stop humming, singing or thinking about the song Palmcorder Yajna. More mountain goats, big surprise. Read more of that book today. Either someone needs to download and read it here. Do it. It's free. Actually, Jason Gorski--I'm calling you out. Download the book. it's sci-fi, you'll feel right at home.

I'm trying to learn Dreamweaver MX so I can get all hardcore on website design and publishing. It's funny--I want the knowledge, but I don't want to bother acquiring it. It feels like homework. Oh well. Back to the yajna!

Holt Avenue between Garey and Wight. Hooked up with some friends at the Travelodge, set ourselves up for the night. Carpenter ants in the dresser, flies in the screen. It will be too late by the time we learn what these cryptic symbols mean. And I dreamt of a house haunted by all you tweakers with your hands out. And the headstones climed up the hills. Send somebody out for soda, comb through the carpet for clues. Reflective tape on our sweatpants, big holes in our shoes. Every couple minutes someone says they can't stand it anymore. Laugh lines on our faces, scale maps of the ocean floor. And I dreamt of a camera pointing out from inside the television. And the aperture yawning and blinking. And the headstones climed up the hills. If anybody comes to see me, tell them they just missed me by a minute. If anybody comes into our room while we're asleep, I hope they incinerate everybody in it. And I dreamt of a factory that manufactured what I needed using shiny new machines. And the headstones climbed up the hills.