:: blame the extended gestation.... ::

:: Monday, October 28, 2002 ::

At some point it becomes a game. One where you go 'and then... and then... and then...' and somewhere you finally find yourself lost. This is the punch-line. But you don't know it yet. This ends up being quite amusing but you won't notice it at first. The question becomes what you want to do with the random nothingness. Questions are useless. But tv advertisements are only posthumously reassessed--that guy that passes you will ask what/when/where/why. Thats where you insert the obvious, the needed, the answers. I guess this is whats called life, but I can't quite be certain. How do you reinvent when you don't know what can change? How do you stop caring, when its not even your brain? At some point it becomes a game, but i'm not sure if i'm there yet.

:: Jim Nichols 10/28/2002 08:57:00 PM [+] ::
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