4:30 p.m. - Sunday, Nov. 02, 2003
How pathetic. Rhapsodizing over a pickaxe. Just slightly better than rhapsodizing over a praying mantis.
My diary entries are rambling, incoherent, often self-contradictory (vide yesterday's), but I don't care. I like this outlet. If I had to make sense every time I write in here, where would the fun be?
You can do a lot with a pickaxe. Never forget that, as long as you live. It is knowledge that will serve you well, my children.