Movie Idea: Five Million Things I Hate About You.

"My therapist has these pills.

Anyway.

I wanted to pay you a compliment--its a real good one."

This nigga was spittin', all over his baked crab, pink in the plate, a minute from smoking, and the home-cut and all.

Perpetrators all.

The point is, you don't do nothing, nothing changes.  If you're unhappy, here or there, you'll still be unhappy if you don't sully your hands.  I remember Kelly Ann on the coach with her shoes off, in the middle of meetings and policy things, and I thought: this is getting it done.

A nice moment.

I just frankly don't have enough hatred and vitriol in me to make this work today; I feel like I'm as happy with my familiars, as happy for and with my acquaintances, such that I don't need to be overly defensive or offensive in any particular regard.  Not triggered about this or that.

Taking more of a utilitarian approach maybe, that I can bring about change, positive change, if I but make a sincere effort, and the world?  The world always meets our sincerities with its own attitudes, but we need not despair while we live--such would be a waste of otherwise providential things, and imprudence is a tool for the upset: I need no such.  "Got no strings, to hold me down."

For love of television, they would watch the homeplace fall down, doing such service to their abundant viewings that I'd think my familiars actually were paid sums of money as employees of things like WWE or the NFL, or such, not knowing a fig of the news in reality.

I look at their happiness, and I can feel a kind of envy for that, but not a prideful or degenerate envy, but as such to study one's surroundings, like a science wizard or something, probing at the various strata of one's own environs.

If I could have their happiness, but without the immediate satiation of random television shows, why, I'd be next to a monk; if one could effect the intellectual wonder of the atheist, but retain his own Bible?  If one could, be empty and full at the same time, if one could, prosper even in want, e.i. contentment, rather than want even in prosperity, i.e. as greed.

Katie and Donald, at once in the Hamptons, and myself, over by Montag.  I was scouring the sawgrass, bemusedly hoping to come upon dead bodies discarded by some serial killer.

It's about ten o'clock a.m. in America.  We're really just getting started, people.  With more input processed, more ideas around, various notions of life and liberty, it's gonna be darn good.

Hella good.