Oh baby, I'm dreaming of Monday, Part IV
2002-12-30 || 2:44 p.m.

Today is a bad day. My head must think it is Dec.31st.

Too many entries. Too little to say.

The other day someone asked me what my ulitmate goal in life was (as if I have one!) but I tried to answer them. I couldn't think of anything to say because, in truth, I don't have any sort of goal, but I laughingly replied 'not to work, maybe?'. Well, that's not true. Work passes the time. And thank fuck for that.

There is a rotting orange in the fruit bowl. The dog is sleeping on the sofa. The computer table is littered with Bex's things: A tube of jelly belly beans, two pairs of stripy over the knee socks, two books - no make that three books including one she got specially to read in English lessons at school - a choice based purely on its title 'Fuck Up'. That's my girl! A Neutral Milk Hotel CD, 2 plastic knuckle heads and the infamous chicken from the anarchic Chicken Club.

I do love her even though I think I am not capable of love.

I hurt really bad today. Really bad. I would say that if I start to cry I won't stop but that's not true. I can easily stop. I can easily stop because I have no depth, no soul, no feeling.

I torture myself with fantastic myths, that's how stupid I am.