I'm tired, I don't really have anything to say, I want to go to bed, I have to work in the morning.  

But I need toget a grip on things.  Do I want to be a writer?  Then I have to start writing.  

There's a fucking revalation.  I need to write daily, no matter what I write, what it's about, anything.  

I need to stop drinking so much, because it dulls the blad.  That shouldn't be too hard, since the girls, 

my drinking buddies, are gone.  I need to stop smoking, budget my money, do a better job at work and get 

a raise or leave.  I need to write a killer film script, a bestselling novel, a hit song.  I need to 

bring my computer with me and write down all these ideas I have that I lose.  I need to get motivated.  



Rain, rain, something about the rain.   I need to say somethinga bout the rain, something that entered 

my mind while we were watching the astronaut's wife today.  It was something about how the rain made me 

feel, about how water made me feel, as they were watching raint rickle down the windows.  It reminded me 

of how I usedto love the warm feeling of sitting inside, wathing the rain hit the window, and know I was 

safe.  Cozy, afe, and warm.  It reminds me ofloneliness, of a plane's window with water streaming down it, 

and me arriving at the airport, late at night, all alone, the rain swirling down the window and my recent 

experiences swirling into memories, awaiting their place in line to be forgotten.