Sleeping in contacts makes my eyes dry and tends to make me feel sleepy throughout the day.

I have decided that one day I'll stumble upon some reason to push through all these pointless, dull moments that don't seem to be leading me anywhere and maybe I'll do something that's worth it. Like write something, yeah, that would be nice. Something besides this or that or record reviews or newspaper articles.

Jens Lekman is still one of the best things I've ever heard.

Hopefully Austin won't sweep me into its nightlife. It's tough, not knowing exactly who I am. There's always a slight urge tingling my brain that tells me that the Beats were IT, that they lived life to the fullest and that I shouldn't be opposed to hallucinogens and all that jazz. And, they had style. Carefree, happenin', and cool would be the way to be, but it's not really David Barker now, is it?

On the (somewhat) opposing end is a yearning to do something for change, but WHAT? I don't know, what really makes a difference? I agree with the anarchists, I agree with the socialists, the humanists, the animal rights and the gay rights activists, and I see humans as humans and not part of a nation. But then contemplating what these groups can hope to accomplish, I come up empty-handed. Is there ultimately futility in all the calls for goodness and fairness in the world? Eh.

Riding my bike and living off what I can salvage from the waste of others would be ideal, I often think, but I need a job that will allow me to pay for student loans, which puts me into a bind. I'll manage, I think, but I don't yet know how.