3.24.2007 (02:32:00)

I have this sinking feeling that I am not supposed to be here. My life's dream of living by the ocean... be it back in Maine, Nova Scotia or Iceland, is fading faster than a meteor. I've either left my friends or they've somehow died. I can't say there isn't balance. Everything good is countered by an equal bad. All people have varying amounts of evil. Some hide it better.

I look forward to the sound the rails make as the subway car squeals between Georgia Ave. and Columbia Heights. The hum of the escalators churning out of L'Enfant Plaza. The sight of thousands of people so bitter and cold. Selfish and driven. Confused and scared. And just a handful of the content and empathetic. Give them time.

Today I made loud noise and played drums until blood trickled. Looped almost every instrument I have until every note was one. Dripped sweat over wire and speakers. And realized that I have made every decision that makes me who I am. Nobody else. Just me.