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Composition

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"Everything counts a little more than we think..."

05 November 2004 Friday

Brief before bed

slated in mused at 9:43 am

i’m up late again. i don’t think i should be… i was sitting here a little bit and wondering what kind of mood i’m in. i’m not sure.

Twain seems rather unhappy today. really unhappy. won’t even pretend to fight with Rhine and Abra. Those two, on the other hand, are all over the place. Maybe they ate all of Twain’s energy.

What kind of mood am i in?

i suppose this is the type of thing that i might be able to contemplate—or at least fall asleep doing so—from the blankety-goodness of my bed. and that would be the healthy and sensible thing to be doing anyway..
old habits die really hard. or not at all.

Abra’s soooo awake today. And Rhine keeps wanting to start something. maybe Twain will be okay tomorrow. He was the wellest of them all, for the whole beginning, and til now.
things change/fluctuate/rise and decline.

heh. it occurs to me that this might be one of those types of entries i was talking about earlier today in an email… where it seems like there’s absolutely no substance or information, and it seems entirely pointless to have written and as if there were nothing to have written of anyway. but then months/years/whenever later, when i come back across this, i’ll realize it does reveal something about my character/personality/thinking-style… and very much does it reveal my mood, after all.

good enough for me. goodnight.

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