Wednesday January 17 2001


I'm so damn The current mood of augustdreams at

Bloodwork I had done shows my white and red bloodcount are both low. My white count's so low it's barely above the usual rate for someone undergoing Chemotherapy. That explains the weird spells of weakness I've been getting. But there's no sign of any kind of infection. Guess I'm just a medical oddity.

I really feel the need for romance lately. I want a hand to hold, lips kissing mine. I want that rush and excitement of falling hard for someone. Not that I haven't had some action here and there, and even recently. But naked Twister hardly qualifies as a relationship.

I was talking to my friend Blaze the other day about fantasies. Not sexual fantasies, just daydreams. I want to be Bruce Willis in Die Hard. Whenever I'm stuck in a doctor's office, or a car repair place or in line at the DMV, I start looking for air ducts to crawl into and imagining the place swarming with bad guys. Bad guys with bad accents. Bad accents and armed to the teeth. So that I can sneak around, in commando mode and save everyone. My friend Dave thinks that's weird. Good tihng I didn't tell him about my other favorite daydream. The one where Zombies are laying seige to the world and I'm leading a band of survivors, shooting them in the head (the zombies... not my fellow survivors. heh.) and saving all of civilization.

Blaze thought my daydreams were bizarre. His involve stuff like winning the lottery or having sex with a dozen supermodels. Poor, unenlightened fool. One of these days, Zombies and violent extremists will be swarming his house and he'll be wishing I was there to save his bacon.

Have a great night.

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