I'm sitting here, very early in the morning, and I'm trying to type a thing or two before Loretta wakes up and I am caught in the landslide.

I just got back an hour or so ago from a date, of sort, with Carmen. It was unspectacular. We went out and ate, and we talked a lot. Not much else. We went back to her place, where we talked a lot in the car, and then talked a lot inside. Two big mouths, I guess.

But that's not why I'm writing. I'm not sure why I'm writing.

Hell, there will be time enough tomorrow to express some of the things which are going through my head. Right now I'm tired and paranoid of being set upon, so I think I'll wander on. But I'll come back later to the things which bug me.

I need to start thinking seriously about my music. And I need to consider the approach I want to take to it.