Gave up on Augie March for now. Too dense.

Now reading: No Man Is An Island, Thomas Merton.
Just finished Garrison Keillor's Love Me . It was very good, although I find his radio show boring as heck.

Also continuing to work on Salam Pax. Since that's kind of what started me doing this, I should give some props. Like he needs them, I'm sure.

Still tired. Still on call.

Read a lot of blogs last night. I don't think I quite get it, yet. Doing this feels like whining to me-like who would really care? I probably haven't had a single damn reader.

I emailed a girl named Peach. She was nice to me. Her blog is full of life, with a sad undercurrent. I probably shouldn't have talked to her, but I'm so desperately alone, I didn't know what else to do. She was too kind-I am too boring for her.

This is pointless, like shouting at the wind.

"But in the last analysis the individual person is responsible for living his own life and for 'finding himself'. If he persists in shifting this responsibility to somebody else, he fails to find out the meaning of his own existence."
-Thomas Merton