sugarpill

I just fell. Off my bike. Into the road. I rolled. I felt myself slide on my helmet across the pavement. My bike went over me. I finally have some new bruises. I wanted to take some pictures of my knee, but now that I'm home I'm too tired. My bike is fine- it's a Trek.

I wrote this at work, saved it for later, posting it now.

I'm reading a terrible book. I like Philip K Dick a lot, but The
Transmigration of Timothy Archer has to be one of the worst books he ever wrote.

I'm really REALLY enjoying the new Royksopp album. Very cool stuff.

Imagine life is like a stream. You are water, moving through the stream,...
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Happiness is three white russians and two shots of vodka.
Happiness is remixes of Pet Shop Boys on a friday night.
Happiness is a candlelit room.
Happiness is fleeting, so be sure you're paying attention. You don't want to miss is.

It took me more than an hour to catch up on the sets I missed. Now I need to make some breakfast.

I thought: man, I disappear for a week and nobody leaves any comments for me. Fuck that. And then I read my last journal update and understand why.

I am so swamped. And things are so good. I am so far behind (on sets and everything else) and I feel just fine, thank you. Kasara has hot red hair.

Christ, I have so much to...
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