So, I went back home, just now. I don't want to play video games. I don't want to eat. I could just sit motionless. There's nothing I'd rather be doing, and it doesn't use up much energy. Man, this is even dull to WRITE.

Hey, calling someone a "work of art" sounds like a compliment. Many works of art are pretty disturbing and fucked up ugly. Art isn't art because it's pretty to look at, I guess. It just has to evoke a reaction, maybe capture a feeling. I could call the monstrous woman who kept sitting next to me on empty buses in Portland a "work of art". She was unique in her awfulness. There are fatter women, but she takes the cake for ugly. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder? No it isn't. She was just plain dog ugly. (But how do I know that? Why is that ugly?) (Well for whatever reason, it sure as hell was ugly.) You'd think that being that ugly would result in her developing a lot of character as she grew up. (Attractive people can get by on looks in a lot of situations. Ugly people have to be especially qualified/talented/charming.) Nope, she was gross and rude too. Almost sat on me.

So I guess today taught me that I don't actually want to be a robot. Being a robot is cool and all (Scud!) but it would also be monumentally dull. Hmm. Maybe I want to catch up on answering my email? Olana sent me some very nice mail, Alan seems to be drunk, and Anita might think I'm upset or something. I'm lousy at conversing, too. Especially the "avoiding insulting people" part. Hence I tend to not say much lest I say TOO much. That's me in the corner.

Wauuugh! blech blech blech blech