Logan's green notebook. Entry the fourth: Well We'll Float On, Okay

February 4th

It is characteristic of wisdom not to do desperate things. - Henry David Thoreau

I guess that makes me a moron.

Neil's reading that stupid book again. The one that was the bases of the movie that was his life... or whatever. I don't know what he's looking for, there's nothing in that book I couldn't tell him myself. Probably. Whatever. It's all about what people think of him lately. Is he a whore, is he a moron? Is he selfish? Is he a black hole?

No. Of course he's not. And if he'd get his nose out of that fucking book, I'd tell him so.

Whatever, I'm so not in the mood to trigger one of our mutual nervous breakdowns by opening my mouth. Apparently the couple who gets admitted to the psych ward together... well, stays together isn't right, but there's definitely something to it.

So what have I done today? Oh nothing, nothing with a side of fuck all. I almost miss school. Almost. ...Alright, I don't, not even a little. I miss fighting though, I miss the tension of Neptune. I never thought I would, but I totally just... yeah. I'm kind of itching to hit someone. Preferably someone Weevil shaped, but I'm not picky.

Joe shaved his head, dunno what that's all about. Has to be a mid-life crises or something. If we were anywhere else, he'd be buying a fucking sports cars and popping Viagra... or snorting coke. Dunno what he has to complain about, life seems to be going well enough for the guy. I guess age just does that to you.

Which is why I plan on not making it past, I dunno, forty?

Neil's finally put the book down, looks like his dog needs to piss. I should go with him, maybe we can grab dinner.