What do I

Part of me always wants to stop updating this diary because it is pointless, but part of me continues to update because it is pointless. When I got back from my morning bike ride, I tried to decide if I should read or write to myself. I realized that I have nothing to say, so I am writing.

Besides observing crows and squirrels at parks, all that I have been doing is reading books. Right now I am wearing an all-white shirt that buttons up and has a collar, and my pants are off-white or cream colored.

Here, I will share an obligatory image; then, below, I will start this entry over again:

Dear weblog,

I worry that all of my years are blending together into one long futile blur of semi-action.

It was windy today. Very dark sky with cold spurts of rain. A bad day for biking.

I have acquired the annoying habit of personifying everything. So, although I do not believe in any God that I have ever met, whenever the weather is uncomfortable, I say that God is angry at me: as if God is somewhere pulling levers that cause great gusts of wind to attack my bike. Yet, whenever something pleasant happens, I say: Jesus loves me (even though I only believe in Orpheus). Also, sometimes, when I hit a pothole in the road, I curse the pavement, as if the road intentionally attacked me. And many times per day I curse God and Christ. The locals tell me that I must learn to blame all evil things on the Devil. They say that this will be easier for me to remember, because the word good is just God with an extra oh, and evil is the Devil without a dee. But I never curse the Devil because, as I said before, I mostly side with the teachings of Jesus: it is Christ whom I hate.

But what else happened today? I watched a documentary movie directed by Penelope Spheeris: The Decline of Western Civilization. It was filmed in 1979-80 and originally released in 1981. It is about the LA punk rock scene. I am glad that I watched it. [Update 21 OCT 2015: Over the foregoing week, I watched Part II: The Metal Years and also III, which is about so-called gutter punks; I loved the whole trilogy, which I hope will soon become a tetralogy and beyond.]

That is all that I remember about the events of the day. I feel that I have ruined this entry: I began with the intention of detailing my adventures but then ended up just making flippant remarks about God. The same old observations. And now even my complaint about being repetitive has become repetitive. Do I need to keep a checklist of forbidden subjects? I think that, from now on, when people ask what I do for a living, I will answer: I am a house pet.