Edna, whats wrong with me? I am acomplete powerless adrenalin emotional  wreck. Its so fun to go from up to down to up to down. Cycles of ultimate confidence and cowardly excuse. Flossie did it again. Every time I'm with her, well with the complete exception of WTW, I can remember everything we have talked about in every exchange we have had. We went out again today and its just this exchange of reality of similarity. Its so stupid when you like little things the same as others like, liking peanut butter sandwiches the same way,  but so heavy. Actually we may be nothing alike, I can't tell. Its that kind of love cloud, where the other person... Edna, I don't know what I'm saying. I should be working on my speefnarkle.com site, but I am just dying to tell someone about. Another important thing. Remind me. I will release a short version of WM3 because I have felt a lull inthe visual drive of the movie. Edna, the movie is powerful as it is, and I can do the sound alone which is my wish, I don't like relying on others for my expression of madness. That is the nevermind. But anyway, fuck, I hate being powerless over myself. I would do anything she said. And nothing has really happened yet, but I know it can work. And when tomorrow comes and she hasn't called I will once again wonder  and be in pain. Thats so rad. Its like being a kid again. That uncontrollable shift of emotion. Like the feeling of doom when the streetlights are about to go on and you have to go inside, but you know that as soon as school is out the next day its another eight hours of playing in the street, jumping into neighbors back yards with camoflauge on and an endless cycle of friends,  new music, music is one of the most important things about growing up. Fuck Edna, I have to stop and get back to speefnarkle.com. But on the other hand, theyre making coffee in the next room and you are much easier to talk to than a blank audience. Once again most of what we talked about was art, and the sacrafice involved. But she doesn't know that I rely on weed yet. I keep talking about my movie but never mention the name, and am slowly releasing bits of the truth, to acclimate her to my reality. Well Edna, it is time to grab some coffee, take a deep breath, and smile at the monitor for hours on end. Edna, I remember trying to hide my smile when I told everyone when I was leaving to go pick her up. Edna, I gotta go. Edna. Super Edna. Fuck Edna. I hate it. I had tricked myself into feeling null, numb, uncaring about her. I keep looking at my other work. and keep coming back. Edna, if you were just everyone else, I would have no problem writing. Edna, she smokes crack.
    the wreck