by

Time, books and music. Stuff.

I have to force them out. Every paragraph, Every sentence. Every word. I have to join them in my head, letter by letter, and then squeeze them out to my fingers. And, when that is done and I read through what I’ve written, it turns out to be unbelievable boring. I guess most people don’t expect a scientific report to entertaining, but it shouldn’t make you want to paint a house instead of reading it either. So far today, I’ve been able to add about two pages to the report, mostly thanks to excessive use of lists and tables.

To make a long story – the one you just read – short: I’m considering to pack up my stuff and go home. Except it’s nothing for me to do there either, so I might as well just stay here for a few more hours.

A few days ago I was asked what my favorite book was. A very hard question, indeed. The last few books I read where all Stephen King novels – Misery, Hearts in Atlantis and Dreamcatcher – so it seemed at the time that it had to be one of them. I’m can’t remember what I answered, though. In my previous entry (#311: New Pete Yorn album today.) I wrote that I thought Neil Gaiman might be having a few unsolved personal issues, but he is a mere shadow compared the King. That guys is a fucking lunatic. But one of the lucky few that are actually making very good money being one. I also liked High Fidelity by Nick Hornby, even if it’s a totally different genre than any of the other books. Not many aliens in that book, actually.

Anyhow, when I was doing the dishes yesterday, which, by the way, is the second most boring every-day thing I do, #1 is shaving, I suddenly remember that I’d read American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis a few years ago. And that book is a classic. I never got around to see the movie, but I heard it was shit anyway, so I guess I’m not missing out on anything. But the book is great. I can’t remember exactly why I think it’s a great book. Maybe it’s because its a story about the rat race, a world I’m about to enter. Or maybe it’s because the main character is just fucking psycho. It’s still my favorite book, I think. Until I’m able to remember some other book I once read.

I just got an SMS from Stine where she writes that the Pete Yorn album is not being released until the 21st. What the fuck? That’s next Monday. Ah, screw that… At least I was able to burn 20 minutes or so by writing this entry. Only one hour and seventeen minutes left now.