I don’t think I am going to bother to write down when and what I update my music box with since I know I am fated to play with it incessantly. I stripped out a couple songs that I discovered were in Tower Records top 1000 albums (Scissors Sisters and Lost Prophets). “The public gets what the public wants, but I want nothing of what societies got.” “The public wants what the public gets, but I don’t get what the society wants.” I added some rap too. I really do listen to more rap than my playlist reflects. I just ate 6 donuts for breakfast…. bleahhhh. I need to do groceries. I am a bloated piggie.

I wrote a second part to my little troll fantasy but I suppose I will keep it as a private entry. Maybe I will flesh it out and declassify later. Writing that was cathartic. A fun way to vent the aggression and frustration that has been building lately. This semester has tied me into knots. I’ve felt lately that I’m not meant to be sitting at a computer coding mathematical models all day, I’m not meant for an urban environment. It isn’t natural, it makes me want to scream. I want to go back home to Northwestern Ontario and fish and hunt and play outdoor hockey and ski and enjoy bonfires in the woods. I want to go back to clean air and lakes and throw this toxic life away. The first time I ever flew over Toronto at night, looking out my window seat, I began to comprehend the absolute enormity of it and I actually became physically ill. It seemed like the city covered the entire earth and it blew my mind. I felt trapped. By living in this type of environment you never realize there is another way to feel, to live, the peace of truly being in pure wilderness, the rightness of it. I feel very blessed to have had that experience for a great deal of my childhood. I think the human male is being hammered into a societal role that’s a poor fit. This is a theme I feel that Fight Club and Chuck Pahlaniuk books capture well. I’m not meant to sit at a cubicle all day and then come home and sit in front of a TV all night. Millions of years of fighting for my food and women is ingrained deep in my genes. The violent tendencies are there, just suppressed underneath layers and layers of society. For this reason Macbeth is one of my favorite stories. They tried to take a great fighter and pass him off as a king. Macbeth is pushed and pulled and manipulated to do things not in his nature, making him totally miserable until everything finally breaks down… and as the people of his country are calling for his death, swarming the castle, wanting blood, he lets everything go and begins to see clearly again. He is not a governor, he is a great warrior. So he suits up in his armor, mounts a horse, and charges out of the castle to face the mob knowing he is going to die… yet he is filled with joy to finally be able to battle again, to know what it feels like to live again. At this point I envision him charging out thinking “Bring it on. I’m taking at least fifty of you motherfuckers out.” (but in flowery Shakesperean.). Then he fights valiantly and viciously until he is eventually overwhelmed. I love uncompromising characters.

Corporally: There is a party going on here at work thrown by a gay couple. They tipped me a twenty to make sure things go smoothly (ie. lots of lube… J/K). I suppose I can deal with being called sweetie and honey by grown men for another night. (this isn’t the first gay party I’ve had to oversee.) I actually know more gay guys than I can count on my fingers and toes. I could probably count four of them as casual friends. What else.. I became a big fan of Broken Social Scene today. I revisited their 2003 album and was in the perfect mood for it… it soothed my tattered psyche. I saw my favorite coffee girl at the Spoke. She was wearing black nail polish and reading and highlighting notes from the cinema journal. A film student maybe… maybe I should have went that route….