Last night was interesting. WE went to see Moulan Roug {spelling ?} ... It was a very nice love story, and I also think a great artistic expression. It was a drag and drop patchwork storry assembled with bits and pieces of every love story ever written {including lion-king,aladdin}... It made the love concept ambiguous, but held out the true ideals throughout... It was full of wonderfull rococo art and vaudvill style dance.. The movie was a good one {take that jimmoi <-- hehe }

I noticed something in zack at the movie.. he really enjoyed it, but was feeling torn because socially and culturally he is not supposed to.. I thought that was interesting, how such a good movie will be laid to waste because people will not alow themselves to deviate from social norms ... {is anyone truly themselves ?} I personally cried four times during the movie... but that is how I am...

We concluded by the end of last night that yesterday was not a jimmy day, it was just a friday... I felt the lack of spirit all day yesterday, it made me feel as though I was slipping again, something I allowed myself to care about seemed to dissapoint me. I am feeling apathetic right now, passionless and pointless... It is kind of nice, however, I also feel filthy, as though my skin is some dirty rag soiled with excrement and urine. What a strange feeling this is, I need to read something..

I found on two separate occasions yesterday that I am tightly bound to my subconcious will to conform... In target I was drumming away happily on a table with my hands, turning out some arther nice sounding bongo beats. An old man became annoyed and complained in a harsh voice. I instantly subordinated myself to his will, and I silenced my drumming. I felt violated in some sense, as though he had done something to me which is wrong. I thought for a while and realised that this nameless old man has no more right to be happy with his environment than I do. I should have asked him on what authority he holds his happyness over mine, after all, why should I {be kind to my elders ?}... I could have challenged him to a battle of knowledge or physical prowess.. In either case I would have won, this man was rather rough and looked like an old work-a-day... The second time came later, when someone told me I looked like a bum, literally. I felt a very sharp and sudden pang in my stomach, I wanted to leave and hide myself, to shave,shower,cut my hair, and find better clothes... In one instant I was finding myself desirous of conformity to the greatest. I found myself thinking about going to school for a good career and so on.... I realised it was because I had not been able to abandon the social categories of our culture. They are still deeply ingraned into me and I respond to them exactly as I am supposed to. I was disgusted by this, I think I am weak willed. Instead of having doubts I just felt myself slipping some more, I must not have reached the lowest level of self.... Is there a meaning to all this madness ?

{Words are very powerful, I would like each of you to try and write a paragraph about the picture conjured into your mind when you read the words {cats eyes on live coals. }} I tried this myself and I realised that my mind supplies the picture with thousands of details which are nowhere present in the short statement....