Saturday, January 24, 2004

Wednesday, January 21, 2004

I have concluded that liquid DayQuil is the worst over-the-counter cold medicine currently sold. My mom brought home some orange-flavored DayQuil for me, as I have a cold. Since there is absolutely no similarity between the flavor of the medicine and actual oranges, I am led to believe it is flavored after unhealthy, "been stranded in the desert for three days without water," viscous, orangish-yellow urine.

The bottle claims to relieve sinus congestion. Yes, this is true. I read the ingredients three times just to make sure "fucking molten lava spewed out of Satan's ass" wasn't one of them. Swallowing this medicine makes you feel like the top few layers of your trachea have been seared off, and the feeling doesn't go away for half an hour.

Monday, January 19, 2004

Woke up in that blissful state you get when the world heals itself in your dreams. One of those "perfect girl" dreams. You know what I'm talking about; where everything fits, everything's perfect. They turn out to be the most frustrating thing that can happen to you in your sleep save wetting the bed. The fall to earth lasts for hours.

I don't allow myself any humanity. Contact consists of a few seconds passing in a hallway, a few stupid faces and gestures. The few times some visceral connection actually occurs, it's always cut off. So superficial. We all wear so many masks.

Watched "The Fifth Element," the cinematic equivalent of a "perfect girl" dream. These things leave me disappointed but hopeful, buzzing with half-full half-empty paradoxes and confusion.