I might disinigrate into the thin air if you'd like, and I'm not the dark centre of the Universe like you thought....

My computer is semi-working. Now to update...

Friday, April 16

Today I worked today, with the added bonus of the fact that it was payday. Trevor picked Adam and I up at Sears after I had finished work, and we had a good jam with Peter. Trevor's sister went into labour today, which is pretty exciting and a little wierd. Catherine came over after I got home from band practice and we watched the Newlyweds and caught up on news. She then drove me to work where I had an annoyingly stressful day. I asked Jessica the assistant manager if I could have a word with her. "I can't do this anymore," was the exact phrase I used. So I put in my two weeks and walked home feeling vaguely satisfied. Later that night I was hit with a feeling as fervent as mankind's infatuation with the unknown. I had to get out of the house. I left around 10:30 and walked to the dock at Long Lake. I sat and watched the stars for a good half-hour, then walked back to the overpass and sat there for awhile. On the way home, I stopped by Steve Marshall Ford and stole a red helium balloon from there sale set-up. Walking along the road dressed entirely in black and carrying a balloon; I must have looked like a complete moron. Just before I got into the driveway, I let go and watched the balloon float idly in serpentine twists up to the sky. "How lucky you are," I thought. Then I went to bed with the disquieting thought that fifty years ago, they put people like me in mental institutions. I also wondered why it is I needed these frequent escapes. It just didn't add up. I mean, I live in what is known as the 'upper middle class'. I have all the essentials of life and then some. Why is it that, in my state of social satisfaction, I feel the need to get away from it all?

"Cuz you cocked your head to shoot me down and I don't give a damn about you or this town no more."
Modest Mouse