Boron's Journal, April 15 2009.
Morning. Woke up. Did some writing. Remembered unconfirmed tasks and meetings. Re-confirmed them by placing call. Call says next week. Post-poned again.
Hungry. Went out. Sri Petaling. Had some rice, curried beef, fried lungs, snails, spinach. Saw some old office people.
On way back, saw some more office people. Can't be sure - glad to see me, or glad to think I'm some hobo wanting a handout. Haven't bathed in three days.
Got home. Wrote more. Somebody called. Dinner meet sometime this week.
Somebody e-mailed. Doubts over certain things. Laid it to rest. Piled on more work on self.
Watched some series. Observed camera angles. Will be useful when direct own movie.
Read about local politics. They never learn.
Read about the attention-seeking, prostitutes-in-denial. The vainglorious. The promoters.
Tried warning them. No one listened. Said was stupid. Who is stupid now?
To quote Rorscharch: The accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up about their waists and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout "Save us!"...
...and I'll look down and whisper "No."
People have boxes in head. Shelves. Labelled. When talking, eyes light up when something I say go into box. Into shelf.
They feel safe when see or hear something they recognise. World not like that. World not recognisable. World can't be labelled. Or shelved. Or put in box. Put in box when world die. Like dead cat. Maybe soon.
Nuggets good. Too much aji-no-moto. Owner unconcerned about cancer? Will pay him visit later.
TV. Nothing good. Cough syrup? Wake up later? More work.
