well, another weekend has come and gone. another chapter in my novel written, another chapter of Mann read, yet nothing tangible to show for it.

sometimes i lie in bed perfectly energized, ready to confront the world, yet with a gloom overshadowing that says "thou shalt not", and i stay in bed.
i know no other person on earth, it is as if in 1989 a ufo came and delivered me unto the world in order that i may collect data on these strange earth creatures. all i can bring myself to absorb from the outside world is the finest elements of humanity, its art and poetry. yet when i look around i see that the lowest forms of civilization have overtaken winchester: factories, chain restaurants, big box retail outlets, repeating through the shenandoah valley without end.

why bother leaving the safe darkness of my room? why trouble myself knowing another who will inevitably turn out to aspire to work at rubbermaid so they can eat at outback, buy things from wal mart and live in a dan ryan home? it is as if some artist with an utterly nihilistic intent was given these rolling virginia pastures to pait his visions upon, and the hideous end result is where i must live.

but what does it matter? i tell myself. if i am alone can this hell even exist outside the confines of my mind? is it only a hell because i have confessed this truth(?) to abagail? am i the freak amongst these creatures who spawn on stripmalls and pavement?

i need a muse. a beautiful girl against whom all the world will pale in beauty. a bastion of meaning in this planet gone mad, a girl whose brilliant shine will illuminate the depths of my cavern of despair.

but of that i can only hope.....