I am looking at three clocks. Thye are all counting down minutes, and hours, and the like...but they are only useless in the grand scheme of things. You see...they all tell the wrong time. There is a part of me that, foolishly maybe, thinks if I add up the times, and divide them down the center I shall find out what time it really is. Even if that time isn't the one on the real clock. Call it negative entrophy, call it coincidence, but the forth dimension is calling my name tonight. I guess it's been a while since I've written anything here of any worth. Maybe that's a good thing, maybe it's not. I know some people who would tell me that they hate to read their old journals because it reminds them of who they were and why they changed. I guess I'm special then...these words on paper, on a screen, mean a lot to me, but not because they show me my worth. I don't believe I have any, but because they mark a growing up. I am growing up. That begs the question, are we ready for this? This undertaking of changing youth? Are we the nothings that became everythings, the little engines that could? Or are we the violence, and the maddness that, lacking sweetness, drowned an ocean? Maybe I'm just morbid. Either way...we live. We die. We fuck. We laugh. Maybe it's worth it.