Set the Trap August 28, 2002 - 3:28 a.m.

I have a mosquito bite on my temple. I suppose that's better than on my ass or twat. (How's that for blunt? You know you love it.)

Today has been slow and dull. I feel like I've done nothing all day. I sifted through over a thousand clown pictures, and would have continued had the window not randomly disappeared. At which point I went outside, played with the kitties a bit and had them watching as I demolished a patch of shrubbery. Hence the mosquito bite. People as pale as myself shouldn't go out, I suppose, because the mosquitoes are drawn to the bright skin like a homing beacon.

Did you know that a mosquito is more likely to bite a person that has eaten bananas within 24 hours?

Also, a cockroach farts every 5 or so seconds.

I'm full of uselessness.

I still have the urge to create something. I still have no idea what to create. Or write, for that matter. Topics are not my thing.

I noticed I write the way I speak. Very jumbled, as quickly as possible, and directly to the point. Well... as direct as my mind will allow. I need to change this. And I have one of two options. Start using my brain when I speak, and talk with some shimmer of intelligence. Or at least write as though I have a brain. I can do the latter... but I don't for this diary for some reason. Well, I don't with anything really, because I haven't written anything of substance in years. I don't know that I'll start now for a diary, although it'd be the best practice. I just can't seem to get that in-depth with the simple thoughts I chase around.

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