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Friday, yay, been waiting for this all week! Now just have to survive a days work and get to this evening, gah, so tired, need to get more sleep before the sleep pixies pluck my eyeballs out and sell them for marbles. I suspect saturday morning is going to start around noon ish.
Aug. 10th, 2001
Nervous, don't like being nervous, I worry a lot, about just about anything you care to mention, the price of tea in hindu restaurants, the colour of the sky fading because it's been washed too much, the size/weight ratios of my socks; a whole bunch of other things too. Best thing I find is to try and distract myself, but at work? What to do...
I've come to the conclusion that sleep is
a) Overrated and
b) Annoying.
Now I like to snooze as much as the next person, but frankly I'd rather be up and about and doing things - except when I'm waking up, but why do we need to sleep so much? It's annoying; we get 24 hours of life a day, so for an average person of say 7 hours sleep a night thats nearly a third of your life asleep dammit! Time wasted! Time you could be living.
I am currently averaging around four and a half hours sleep a night, which tends to make me somewhat dosey in the afternoon (a genetic hangback from neolithic times apparently, someone told me once, where we used to sleep in the afternoon as well as night... random possibly wrong trivia) but then I'm at work in the afternoons anyway, so thats lost time as far as I'm concerned anyway.
More wittering, I'm getting good at that.
Anyway, so yes, it's all about maximising time of life, if I was a battery I would want to be a long life one; get as much time for me as possible and minimise downtime, more time to live and experience life, so glad I walk to work, 20 mins out my day for travel, could be 1 or 2 hours instead, but that means more time to live.
Got this one life, I'm going to make the most of it.
a) Overrated and
b) Annoying.
Now I like to snooze as much as the next person, but frankly I'd rather be up and about and doing things - except when I'm waking up, but why do we need to sleep so much? It's annoying; we get 24 hours of life a day, so for an average person of say 7 hours sleep a night thats nearly a third of your life asleep dammit! Time wasted! Time you could be living.
I am currently averaging around four and a half hours sleep a night, which tends to make me somewhat dosey in the afternoon (a genetic hangback from neolithic times apparently, someone told me once, where we used to sleep in the afternoon as well as night... random possibly wrong trivia) but then I'm at work in the afternoons anyway, so thats lost time as far as I'm concerned anyway.
More wittering, I'm getting good at that.
Anyway, so yes, it's all about maximising time of life, if I was a battery I would want to be a long life one; get as much time for me as possible and minimise downtime, more time to live and experience life, so glad I walk to work, 20 mins out my day for travel, could be 1 or 2 hours instead, but that means more time to live.
Got this one life, I'm going to make the most of it.
Fight club
Aug. 10th, 2001 10:44 amWorried again. Beginning to identify far too much of this film to my life, not the violent bits, the psycological bits, this morning is turning into a real introspective walk through points of reality for me, work is pootling along and my brain was sort of detached itself while the rest of me carries on and does other stuff; I'll be nodding and saying 'Sure, can do that no trouble' to my boss and making a mental note of what he wants whilst simulatenously thinking about an email I wrote a while ago in a semi-detached sort of way. This happens occasionally, I'll be driving, talking, walking and suddenly float away and feel like I'm almost watching myself third person like a bad tomb-raider clone doing whatever, and I'm not sure who or what is left behind when I do this. It's more like I'm holding the strings to a maronette that's not myself, while the real me floats above moving the arms and legs of the shell I am.
So who am I? Gawd knows at this point frankly, but I'm sure I'll witter something up later on.
So who am I? Gawd knows at this point frankly, but I'm sure I'll witter something up later on.
This Is Your Life (featuring Tyler Durden)
And you open the door and you step inside, we’re inside our hearts.
Now imagine your pain as a white ball of healing light.
That’s right, your pain, the pain itself, is a white ball of healing light.
I don’t think so.
This is your life, good to the last drop, doesn’t get any better than this.
This is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time.
This isn’t a seminar. This isn’t a weekend retreat.
Where you are now you can’t even imagine what the bottom will be like.
Only after disaster can we be resurrected.
It’s only after you’ve lost everything that you’re free to do anything.
Nothing is static, everything is evolving, everything is falling apart.
This is your life, doesn’t get any better than this.
This is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time.
You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake.
You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else.
We are all part of the same compost heap.
We are the all singing, all dancing crap of the world.
You are not your bank account.
You are not the clothes you wear.
You are not the contents of your wallet.
You are not your bowel cancer.
You are not your grande latee.
You are not the car you drive.
You are not your fucking kahkis.
You have to give up.
You have to give up.
You have to realise that someday you will die.
Until you know that you are useless.
I say: let me never be complete.
I say: may I never be content.
I say: deliver me from Sweedish furniture.
I say: deliver me from clever art.
I say: deliver me from clear skin and perfect teeth.
I say: you have to give up.
I say: evolve, and let the chips fall where they may.
This is your life, doesn’t get any better than this.
This is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time.
You have to give up.
You have to give up.
I want you to hit me as hard as you can.
I want you to hit me as hard as you can.
Welcome to Fight Club, if this is your first night, you have to fight.
And you open the door and you step inside, we’re inside our hearts.
Now imagine your pain as a white ball of healing light.
That’s right, your pain, the pain itself, is a white ball of healing light.
I don’t think so.
This is your life, good to the last drop, doesn’t get any better than this.
This is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time.
This isn’t a seminar. This isn’t a weekend retreat.
Where you are now you can’t even imagine what the bottom will be like.
Only after disaster can we be resurrected.
It’s only after you’ve lost everything that you’re free to do anything.
Nothing is static, everything is evolving, everything is falling apart.
This is your life, doesn’t get any better than this.
This is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time.
You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake.
You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else.
We are all part of the same compost heap.
We are the all singing, all dancing crap of the world.
You are not your bank account.
You are not the clothes you wear.
You are not the contents of your wallet.
You are not your bowel cancer.
You are not your grande latee.
You are not the car you drive.
You are not your fucking kahkis.
You have to give up.
You have to give up.
You have to realise that someday you will die.
Until you know that you are useless.
I say: let me never be complete.
I say: may I never be content.
I say: deliver me from Sweedish furniture.
I say: deliver me from clever art.
I say: deliver me from clear skin and perfect teeth.
I say: you have to give up.
I say: evolve, and let the chips fall where they may.
This is your life, doesn’t get any better than this.
This is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time.
You have to give up.
You have to give up.
I want you to hit me as hard as you can.
I want you to hit me as hard as you can.
Welcome to Fight Club, if this is your first night, you have to fight.
My cocktail
Aug. 10th, 2001 02:56 pmBehold the Dr.Penguin
Vodka, Still lucazade orange, Several tubes of pixie sticks, two pro-plus and a fruit pastel.
Vodka, Still lucazade orange, Several tubes of pixie sticks, two pro-plus and a fruit pastel.