You know what I just realized? I have no memory of my past. I try to look back any stretch of time and I can vaguely remember some people, bits of ideas, but otherwise nothing. I also have no real personality that can think of. While Man can never step back and analyze himself, it's more than a matter of self-awareness at this point. I can't get past a fucking Mental Fog of the Ages, and it's starting to puzzle me.

Like a jigsaw, actually; I once had this really hard puzzle to complete as a child, and I went towards the task with zest 'n' zeal. However, I soon found a sort of mystery: some pieces of the puzzle seemed to be missing. I couldn't be sure, because it was huge (relatively) and I wouldn't be able to really know until I ran out of pieces. I didn't want to waste time on the actual puzzle were it incomplete, since it just doesn't feel right to make a puzzle you already know you can't complete. So I left it. It's sitting there somewhere to this day. However, I'm way too upbeat to let my own metaphors bring me down.

Tommorrow: more needless description of my void of personality, driven by macabre curiosity.

I had three hours of sleep last night. This will not be a coherent post. When I go to home, I believe I will partake in a Tylenol Goddamned PM™ endorsed Siesta. Because I ache.

Anyway, I now cow sow pow mow show row bow wow. Why must sleep be eternally out of reach?

Now (I think) you'll be able to e-mail me. Woo-hoo.

Bah. My throat. My list of minor ailments goes on.

I now have a CD burner.

Blarg.

I have nothing to say. Leave!