someone in a dream last night asked me who I was trying to be

I told her I appreciated the question but I still gave her a smartass answer. "Well, Bruce Springsteen with the hair of course."

It makes vague sense, to me at least.

I wish I'd answered it honestly, though, so that I might know now. But in the dream it probably wasn't even me, just a composite of feelings and things I've absorbed from movies and TV shows and other dreams over the last week. I was someplace different, and dressed differently then everyone there. But I was dressed differently than I do here, anyway. I was wearing shorts and an army jacket. Not really my general street attire.

This has been one of those weeks where I have to believe that everything happens for a reason because if it doesn't than most of it just sucks.

The other night I dropped dead. Asleep. Out of nowhere. I must have needed to sleep. My dreams were prophetic that night. Personally. I don't want to talk about them but I think that they saved me from some trouble, so I probably needed to drop dead asleep. I guess I should stop teasing _____ about how much faith she puts in her horoscope.

I need to have a roommate again. The house goes to shit without one. I need someone who'll get mad at me. I surveyed the situation this morning.

Tricycle in the living room. Coathanger in the bathtub. Unopened can of cat food in the bowl of dry food. Mysterious fishing lure still in my room.

I slept in my bed last night. It had been a while. I slept in my clothes with a space heater on. I woke up real hot and stinky. I was stinky because I was hot, but I also looked real fucking sexy. For me at least. Hot and stinky. Same thing every morning. Why do I always have to choose?

I've lived with stinky people before. Just one, really, but he was way stinky and I've been terrified of turning into that. Whenever there's even the remotest chance I'll get laid I'll opt for less sexy, better smell, which is probably stupid cuz Sarah would still probly fuck me if I smelled like a cow.

Last night I went to a show. I bought beer and got more change back then I spent but the girl realized it before I did. As I gave her back a five all my cards spilled out of my wallet and into the trash. It was the needle and the haystack but with bank cards and cans of Old Style. I rescued everything but my bus card, which slipped into the void. Out another five bucks. On most days it wouldn't be so devastating but last night it was. It was so much, I couldn't even enjoy the avant garde science fiction play that was happening in front of me. (that was worded pretty sarcastically but I really do enjoy that kind of stuff)

I've seen ___ a couple times this weekend. It's been awhile. The last time I saw her for any real amount of time was a couple years ago at a party at her parents' house. I left my goggles there, and then she ran away and came back and was committed for a bit. We never found my goggles though. I really need a new pair, I don't ever see them at stores, even goth stores, so where do all the goths get them? If I was to have a hanukkah list, at the top would be goggles. I'm not really that good at exchanging gifts and I don't expect them from anyone but if I hit the Lotto I would be spending like a motherfucker so if anyone reading this hits the Lotto this week, here's my Hanukkah list:

Goggles - goth
Goggles - raver
Goggles - steampunk (like someone would wear flying a biplane and shit)

Jeans - Mens 34, Womens 12 I think. Tight around everything, especially the legs. A little short in length because I'm a little short in height and a little shorter than that because I want to show off my boots.

Comics - Whole series of Frank Miller's Dark Knight, Frank Miller's Sin City, and Dave Sim's Cerebus. Actually, I'd be pretty happy to borrow these if you have them.

Earings - Guages 2 and 0.

Belts - Colorful belts with cool buckles with AK 47s and Nintendo controllers and Swastikas and shit.

Tattoos.
Scarves.
Jim Jarmusch movies.

Or maybe you could send a bunch of books to the SHAC 7 or Mumia Abu Jamal or any of the millions of other prisoners stuck in a corrupt justice system who don't get good press. Midwest Books to Prisoners.

That's it. If you win the Lotto. Except for that last one. Everyone should do that. Otherwise just be around and say nice things and tell me if I look stupid and get me into trouble every now and then.

[currently watching "Dark City"]