My hands hurt. I have been playing the piano for far too long. I can say, with the utmost confidence, that I can play the Moonlight Sonata with my eyes closed. Well, maybe not with my eyes closed, but I can certainly play it off by heart. Have you ever tried playing the piano with your eyes closed? I don't understand how Stevie Wonder does it. I mean, the dark glasses he wears must really make the keys hard to see.


Computers cannot surpass good old pencils and paints.

Anyway, I'd better go.

Good... Bye.

You twist and turn like a... Twisty-turny thing. I say you are a weedy pigeon and you can call me Susan if it isn't so!


I am very tired, very tired I am. Am I very tired? Why, yes, I am, in fact, very tired. Too tired to write any more in this stupid friggin' journal.



Goodbye, you lazy, big-nosed, rubber-faced bastard.


[Modest Mouse / Broke.]

¡Salvar mí de el torno, por favor!
Save me from the drill, please!





I hope he's a good dentist, and I hope he just gets on with it instead of fucking around. Anyway - Plaque is a figment of the liberal media and the dental industry to scare you into buying useless appliances and pastes. Now, I've heard the arguments on both sides, and there is nothing to convince me of the need to brush your teeth. Apart from this toothache, of course.


[Smokes a joint.]



Not only do I have to see Dr. Dentist Man, but I am also on the rag. Horray! Oh, the path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the devil's own satanic herd.

Goddamn, I'm bored.

Dance for me. Oh, don't be shy.









Oh, my. Stop dancing, please. You look like an idiot.




I shall now leave you with this message: As the good Lord says, love thy fellow man as you love yourself, unless they are Turks, then kill the bastards.

Good bite.

The pain of my tooth/dental abscess has faded. I can hardly feel it. The swelling is going down tremendously. I awoke this morning to learn my Mom bought me some new cotton PJ’s with bears on ‘em. Then, I switched on the computer, and checked burntfaceman.com to discover that there was a new episode! I fucking love Burnt Face Man. I also fucking love the lack of pain. I also love you! Ok, I went a little overboard there. I don’t love you. So, don’t start getting the wrong idea or anything. We can’t jet off to Barbados together to live with seven children and servants. And I wont be dressing up as a French maid on Saturday nights, or as a nurse on Friday. So forget about it.

So, I have to go to the dentist on Wednesday, so I’ve had to hide a lot of weed, so I can smoke it on Wednesday before I go and see Dr. Dentist Man.

Well, that’s all I have to say.

Good boo.


[Modest Mouse / Jesus Christ Was An Only Child]

(No, Modest Mouse is not the only band I listen to.)

"Traveling, swallowing Dramamine.
Feeling spaced, breathing out Listerine.
I said what I said that I'd tell ya,
And that’s you've killed the better part of me.
If you could just milk it for everything.
I've said what I'd said and you know what I mean.
But I still can't focus on anything.
We kiss on the mouth but still cough down our sleeves.

Traveling, swallowing Dramamine.
Look at your face like you're killed in a dream,
And you think you've figured out everything.
I think I know my geography pretty damn well.
You say what you need so you'll get more,
If you could just milk it for everything.
I've said what I said and you know what I mean.
But I can't still focus on anything."

It’s.. bizarre. Having things you truly believe to be there, right in front of you, vaporize and disappear the second you try to reach out and touch them. Mistaking lamps and cupboards for family members and old friends that you'll talk to for hours. I loved the fact that I could hear lyrics in songs that weren’t there. They were good lyrics, too. I’d hear extra melodies intertwined with the real ones, even extra singers. I sometimes forget that they really weren't there when I listen to a song I was listening to while I was tripping, and I hear myself thinking “Where did that bit go?” “There’s something missing.” “How come he’s not singing the words I heard when.. Oh, yeah..”
And with movies - “There’s a scene missing!” I once heard a scream. It wasn't like a scream of pain, or shock, but a word. I'm not sure what they were saying, but goddamn, it was the loudest thing I've ever heard. I couldn't hear anything for about a minute afterwards. Although, with hindsight, I can now say that I didn't hear anything at all. And it didn't render me deaf for a minute. Well, I think so.

People in pictures winked and smiled at me. An old friend came into my room and put a parcel on my bed. After I watched him leave I looked at my bed, at the spot where he’d placed the parcel. Parcel? What parcel? Apart from myself, there was nothing on the bed.

With Dramamine, a common effect is: Not being able to remember most of your trip. A Dramamine trip is akin to a dream.

I’ve done a lot of drugs, but Dramamine is by far the strangest. LSD is strange, but at least one can stop and say “hold on, this shit isn’t real.” It’s hard to do that on Dramamine. In fact, it’s almost impossible. It’s hard to differentiate between what’s real and what isn’t. “Did someone actually call my name or did I just imagine it?” “Was that thump I just heard that was coming from downstairs real or not?” “Is someone knocking on my door now or not?” These are important thoughts one needs the answer to. With Dramamine, you can't ask yourself the question. If you heard it, saw it, or smelled it, it's real. And that's that. The thump could be a stranger entering the house, or a family member or friend falling over, perhaps passing out? The knock at the door could be my Mom telling me she’s back from the store, if I don’t answer it, she could walk in and see me looking extremely deranged, and if I do answer it? Same thing. So, if you're ever going to trip on Dramamine - Do it alone.

I’ve only done Dramamine with someone home twice. The other countless times I’ve done it, I’ve been alone.

I haven’t done it in a while. I can’t take any yet, even though I want to, as I’m on two types of antibiotic and two types of painkiller for a dental abscess, and I don't want to combine Dramamine with the pills I'm currently taking.

My body feels tired. Maybe because of all the pills, or maybe because of the fact I’m not eating. I haven’t eaten since Friday evening. Which, isn’t really a big deal. Anyway, it could be a good thing. I need to shed a few pounds.

The part of the trip I've always hated is the end. At that point your heart beats so goddamn fast. Like an iron fist inside your ribcage, trying to punch it's way out a thousand times a minute.

So, the moral of the story:
Dramamine: If it’s strange; it isn’t real.

[Modest Mouse / Cowboy Dan] (Ha, did you think I was listening to "Dramamine"?)