internal inertial guidance

[stilltrucking]

I don't know what to think anymore
I think what I am supposed to think
I think what I am told to think

[stilltrucking]

He was like a pregnant woman, only that the thing inside him was not a baby but a youth. No, it wasn’t a youth, it was a woman, young, and wearing a coat of mail like a knight. It is absurd, you see, to try to tell what was inside the old writer as he lay on his high bed and listened to the fluttering of his heart. The thing to get at is what the writer, or the young thing within the writer, was thinking about. Winesburg, Ohio

[myrna minkoff]

blank pages
numb eyebrows
I think my feet have died
I looked down at my feet yesterday and they was so pale they was almost powder blue
I have sat here at this computer for a hundred hours this past week trying to qualify for a search engine gig...In that time I could have drove to LA and back two times. But I am nottrucking these days.
I am stilltrucking by nottrucking I suppose.
I only
Road my bike a total of thirty minutes
I been too busy trying to find work
that is lucrative and challenging too
I was Supposed to take a three part test and I am still trying to get through the first one, I got only twenty four hours to finish the other two. Seems like the testing site keeps taking the football away before Charlie Brown can kick it.
Not so much an exam of my knowledge of internet search engines as a test of endurance to measure my threshold for frustration.

As if I need to validate myself.

What's next Jacky?