Oh baby, I'm dreaming of Monday, Part V
2002-12-30 || 7:49 p.m.

Everything is so unbearably sad. I can hardly stand it. The thought of people suffering. It hurts so much.

Is a small amount of pain, taking your own life, worthwhile?

Time is made up of an infinite amount of circles all spun around to form a sphere. Wherever I stand I am at the top, at the bottom, on the side, everywhere all at once. And by the same token I am nowhere at all and my suffering is nothing in this greatness.

What is the point? I don't know how to equate my worthlessness with this pattern of life.

But I wish you would make carrot flowers and I would hold you close.