I found out some random things today, which lead me to thinking a thought and then thinking bout that thought and so on.

I wonder who my friends really are. I think there’s at least two ways to interpret that last sentence. At first I wanted to fix it to be more specific but then again, actually both interpretations work in this case. My paranoia is getting out of hand. I can tell it by how silent I’ve been lately. It’s not even vogue silence, I haven’t cultured my silence all that well you see, so when I’m silent it unnerves even me initially. I’m not even silent when I sleep (if you’re ‘lucky’ you’ll have your own amusing sleepyLi story someday).

Some people look really good silent. Even mysterious; magnetising people wordlessly by letting them filling in their blanks with curiousity instead of confidence. I’m definitely not one of them. Everyone fills my blanks in with confidence, even people I’ve just met for less than an hour. I’m predictable that way. Easy to classify, cement & dismiss, I fit right under that little finger. That’s what I kind of spell out to the world at the moment. To my immediate friends at least.

Personally I think I’ve become incredibly boring with my silence, since its so underdeveloped. But at least all this free time gives it some time to grow & mature. I think I need to feed it more books.

There was a poem in my head but I lost it today. It was angry and spokenword and influenced by the amount of CSI that I’ve been watching now that I’m home all the time in the day. And out all the time at night with crime scenes on my mind. I hope the poem will come back. Like my laptop while we’re at it. It’s hard to write on someone else’s hard & software. I’ve been digging up my paper notebooks ever since my gadget notebook crashed and I realised how long ago I’ve stopped writing. Its nice to see my handwriting again. I’m still too lazy to lift up a pen until the word is over (I think they call it cursive and even praise it sometimes).

If I were to think a vague thought right now I would think “another one?” & start all over again, so that’s bad. I’ll leave the paranoia to my subconscious. I should sleep. That way, I could drive Tosh to a factory tomorrow. The sun is coming up.

Look, it’s 6am & I’m only writing so much crap because I don’t want to go to sleep.