Edit. Edit. Edit.

1. Dark faces. Lightened eyes. It's kind of weird how the sun beams shine to the ground. Feeling funny from those words I just read. The way they were placed on the page. The choice of phrasing. Fresh tunes. A song that doesn't last very long. Switches up in the middle. Throws you down to the ground and kicks you in the gut. Priceless feelings. Wasted talents. Eyes that could destroy the universe. My ears are begging for more. The talents just dont come fast enough these days. Songs written in minutes that last a lifetime. Often wasted. I couldn't tell you some of the things I've seen. Hopefully, you would do the same. Sour. Unanswered phone calls. I'm thinking about changing the tone of my voice. Those days are completely over.

2. That looped beat. What was the program you used again? Something you downloaded for free, no doubt. Some weird experimental shit, huh? What ever happened to those folk tunes you were once known for? Questions that never get answered are what makes life worth living. Sometimes. That's right, sometimes. Meet me at the bus stop. Classic. So very classic of you. Whatever you write seems perfect. I guess I can say that having known you for a few years. Or having once known you, I should say. Speaking of years, they're starting to pass quicker these days. 21,22,23,24,25, etc. Would you not agree, kid? Man, that one strike of the chord you do is infinite. Do you know that? I didn't think so. It has been a while since I've listened to this song. I can almost remember the first time. Almost. It wasn't that long ago, but it seems like a lifetime. Almost. I can honestly say I've never met anyone better. Maybe I have and didn't realize it at the time. In my heart, you'll always be the best. Don't know why, but it makes me sad. Patch. The lightning didn't strike twice. Too bad. These things pass us by and we dont even know it. Could've done so much more.

3. August 20, 2006. Just an ordinary day of doing nothing. Didn't go outside once. Heat. Heard it was hot. Don't want to upset my heart. Maybe it was a smart move staying in. Then again, maybe it wasn't. Last night's party: looking over a balcony at a dark sky. Lights scattered over the ground. Some orange, some blue. Stars were still in the sky. Tight skirts. What more could one ask for? I'm sure you could think of a few things. Nice eyes. I've discovered something about life. But I'm not going to tell you. You need to figure out on your own. If I were to reveal its secret, what would you have to strive for? Nothing. After all, isn't that why you're here? Lemme know when you find the answer. Here's me, trying to wink.

4. Instead of reading, write a letter. Address it to your mother or father who are living far off somewhere. Don't make it angry. The tone should be light. Handwritten letters are a thing of the past, unfortunately. They still exist in small quantities. Very small. I think the only people who write handwritten letters anymore are soldiers in distant countries and 80-year-old women - and maybe kids in summer camp. But thats about it, folks. There's nothing quite like sitting down with only a pen and pad, and writing down your deepest bullshit thoughts. So comforting. Coffee should probably be somewhere in that equation, too. Not decaf. My eyes are too tired to sleep. A curse of curses.

Ever thought about interviewing yourself? No? I have. It would be boring, and I doubt anyone would read it. They'd probably skim over the questions then move on to something else. I know I would. Why should I care about questions one wants to ask themselves? The thought is ludicrous.

5. "True Lies" is on the television. HBO, my favorite. I've seen it like a million times. Once more won't hurt. Oh, look, it's our Governor. Awesome, kids. I said it twice now, and I won't say it again. Sleep tight in this L.A. night. Damn those crickets.