trickle of thought

Don't you hate it when someone wakes you up like 5 minutes before your alarm clock goes off? I was like damn, you didn't hear it because it hasn't sounded yet. Then it's like, well, you're up now, can I have some weed? Here's a cold coffee.

Ten minutes later I'm not in such a bad mood. Or maybe I am. Friggin' drugs, can't tell where you end and they begin sometimes. Am I still cranky from Monday night? Or just last night? Or maybe I'm hungry. That'll make someone irritable.

"Excuses excuses, they all lead to nooses"

I think I'm quoting myself there.

Digitally compatible, there's a neat trick to sell the HDTVs.

Robots, always rubbin' it in my face.

Crashman's music is playing in my head now. Alright, maybe not all robots.

It seems like I'm trying not to think. If I think, I'll realize I've got to change something in my life for my life to change. I'm ignoring phone calls, not replying to emails and msgs, not reading, not even hardly watching. It's like this; I want a change, but I don't want to change. I don't even want to choose the change.

Do I even want a change? I'm not so sure anymore.

Maybe I'm just cowardly.

Which reminds me; is there a connection between trees and arbitration? I was thinking abut how we chose a tree as a target, just arbitrarily, just any old tree, but one tree to shoot at. I don't normally think the word 'arbitrarily', so that was odd, and the French word for tree is arbre. So, we chose an arbre arbitrarily, a tree otherwise normal, chosen for the situation at hand to be the designated target for the shooting session.

When researching the origin of the words arbiter and arbitration, one comes to the dead end of ad baetere, the Latin for 'to go', as the arbiter was the one that would go to settle a dispute. Bae, is the Latin for a palm branch though, so perhaps our translation is not entirely correct. A tree is also a definite line, a separator, one side and the other. Knock on wood. Smoke trees.

Were the first property lines just the imaginary lines between trees? Were trees our first gods?

Strange ponderings for a Thursday afternoon.

Oh, an there IS NO NINE IN THE AFTERNOON. That fucking song. Afternoon is over by 6. Then it's evening. Night would be acceptable. Then again, I don't really know the song, just that there is no 9 in the afternoon.

Why that bothers me, I don't really know. But it does. There's already a word for that time of day, fucking use it! It's evening! Night! It's getting dark, not moving past the noon-hour. Ok, I think I ranted that all out.

Thinking about taking a short train ride out of town next week. Not sure yet if I'll make it yet, as there's a good chance I'll 'wuss-out'. If I do go, I'll likely end up broke for a week when I get back. That shouldn't really affect my decision though.

Who are you kidding? Your not going anywhere. Your going to stay home and kick yourself for not getting out when you had the chance. You fucking loser.

What? I'm not cool like the devil?

Fuck no. You play the same riffs over and over on the guitar. You don't take advantage of people at every opportunity. You don't even have a tattoo.

Ha ha. Ok then, I guess I'm not cool. Crazed maybe.

Naturally. You are essentially conversing with yourself.

Oh, I'm well aware of that.

Well, enough of it.

Agreed. We're boring ourselves. Or is it self?

Let's stick with the singular.