(diaryland) October 02, 2007 - 10:56 p.m.

Hey, what's with all this breathing in and out, man? I'm always doing it. It's so time consuming. Am I really in need of this much air? Am I this weak that I need to actively do tremendous shit just to stay alive every second? Jesus. I feel like Sisyphus.

As far as I know, I'm just breathing out the exact same air I just chucked in there, except it's warmer. As far as I know, the energy I so lovingly created by eating dinner is being expended on making the air that whistles out of my nose a bit warm.

I know that you need air to do something to blood to make it go, but I don't need blood either. If I got rid of blood, then I could get rid of air. The food I eat could go directly to my brain and muscles and all that with some hydraulic system I'm gonna rig up in the summer holidays. Yeah. I might go on a holiday to Perth, but if I don't, I'm going to do it.

Fuck. I wish I could just finish this essay/torture I'm avoiding by writing this useless diary entry, or go to sleep. I don't even need sleep, though. If I rested every cell in my body for maybe two seconds at alternate times throughout the day, I'd be OK. In the summer holidays, maybe I'll draw up a schedule.