Of creating nothings and keeping it all to oneself.
Sunday, 08/08/04 - 9:15 pm.

One hour after I'd opened the huge shoebox (Caterpillar shoes for male, hi) with the word "SIMEON" over it, I concluded I own 26 Simeon notebooks, that I have written since 1996. I took a three-year break (not by will, I was just slacking off too much), which makes five notebooks per year. Quite an accomplishment, but quite nothing in the end.

- Joseph: that's something.
- Me: it's nothing.
- Joseph: no, really. You've done something, you've created. I, being your counterpart, have done the opposite: destroy. In my life I've done nothing but corrupt people.

I don't feel like typing today. I think it relates to the fact that nothing happened...nothing interesting enough, that is. I do have quite a few things in mind, but half of them are too complicated and delicate (it's things I'd rather talk about with someone, than just elaborate a monologue about), and the other half won't be mentioned, because they're just projects. I want to turn those projects into facts, and THEN perhaps I will talk about them.

I'd forgotten this is my last week before the semester begins. It's kind of exciting, but I hate to think I won't have free time anymore, now that I've found a direction for all my psychic energy.

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