June has went by so fast. It kind of scares me that it has, because apparently this is what the rest of my life is going to feel like according to my father who has "been there done that." Then again, my father has always been so pessimistic about everything. I remember once while watching the news, the week forecast said sunny all week long and my father said "yeah well, those weather men don't know what they're really talking about, they can't predict the future, we'll get rain, you see." To him that was positive thinking because "we needed rain."

Lately I've just wanted to feel drunk. I want that shit faced feeling you get when you wake up the next morning. The splitting headache and dizziness all just seem friend to me these past few days. Some nights when I'm just laying in bed I can feel the nausea slowly creep up on me, and once I welcome it with open arms it runs away. Maybe I need more beauty in my life, or perhaps to open up my eyes more often. This morning when I woke up at 7 a.m. I could feel everything beautiful sink into my bones. The thin slits of light that came through my blinds were beautiful along with the way the air from the fan felt on my shoulders. I started to think about these things but then of course my thoughts started to skip over to other things which then caused me to feel a knot in my throat. I found similarities in things I never wanted to find in. This then caused questions which led to me throwing away my morning.

I realized my phone didn't work this morning. This brought relief and panic.

Hm? I know you'll take that the wrong way so let me elaborate. Relief from the constant technology push and panic because of the lack of communication between me and my lover! I fear no longer, it works.

My dog, Ziggy, loves no matter what. I'd like that. He loves me though I dislike him with a passion. He follows me around and lays by my feet when I have decided on a place to lounge and is ready to move when I am. He loves me. It's actually starting to grow on me, and I'm beginning to love him back.

I'd like to be more artistically inclined. Whether it be with my hands, voice, whatever, just more of it would be nice. My mother said I have it with my eyes. I see things like nobody else, she says, though it's extremely cliche. There's this song now on the radio called "birthday sex," and it makes me wonder, what the hell happened to music? How has it seriously gotten to this? Anybody with a generally nice voice can make a "number 1 hit song" about whatever the hell they want. Forget about the truly unique voices like Norah Jones, Patsy Cline, Nathan Willet, Louis Armstrong or even Willie Nelson and other such artists. Musicians have it hard now-a-days because teenagers rule the music industry in the sense that they demand what's to be recorded, to be heard, and all it is are r&b and rap songs about money and sex and fame or even shoes for god sakes.

It's just sad is all.

I've decided I need to go outside more often. I need sunshine. That is exactly what I need. I just want someone else who wants the same thing. I know I don't NEED them but it'd be nice to have them.

Before last night, I would stay up until god awful times of the night. I would stay up and draw or think, look for music. Last night I went to sleep at 8 and woke up at 7 this morning. It felt so good, although now I could use a nap.

I just cleaned my ear because it was oozing nasty stuff. Bleh. I feel a little nauseous but I will get over it.

VOILA!