By "the world" I did not mean you diary. Of course never you, you have done nothing but love and support me.

And by diary, I mean the collective diary. You know? The readers of the diary.

A tradition of diary writing is to address each entry to Dear Diary, the audience of no one, traditionally. Here and now I have an interactive diary where the implied "Dear Diary" will address innumerable readers.

So last time while confiding in "you," diary, I meant to exclude "you" from my discontent.

The discontent? A reaction to my entertainment job. A reaction to those who care nothing about the music and everything about the glitz. A twisted flash of a self-fulfilling prophecy of self-loathing, for not having interest in power. For not fitting in with the people who surround me for 40+ hours/week.

Its the same old song I have sung from the beginning, remember? Ah...the beginning, early June. Days at Amgen, fucking, Amgen. Temporary oblivion.

Its like I said earlier in an email to the Libertarian, you can take the girl out of oblivion but you can't take the oblivion out of the girl.

I mentioned the problem to my boss, he said,"Be yourself, be proud of yourself, don't do, what everybody tells you to do, be yourself, be proud of yourself, you'll be cool." He is nice in a really unsettlingly trendy kind of way.

19 October 2002 - 9:06 PM

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