April 15th, 2002. - 11:59 p.m.

Stop. This is too much conjestion.

There has simply been too much in the past 24 hours to digest right now. My mental metabolism, when digesting all the information received from human interactions, is a slow and cumbersome act. Only because each occurrence and utterance must be mulled over several times. All the voices in the head must have a go at the analysis. I shall say this though: in vino veritas.

It is the general perception that advice is best reserved for the dumb, and for the intelligent who need a timely smack to the head. Since I tend to shy away from the dumb, I find myself guarding my advice. Intelligent people often know themselves well enough anyways, and what is said shall not be of much use. They will only do what they believe anyways. And it is much more entertaining to just sit back and watch. I have yet to deliver a timely smack to the head.

Excuse the lack of literary genius. My mind is racing. And it shall be sometime before it stops.

N.

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