San Antonio, TX
Monday June 6, 2005
7:41am I woke up about ten minutes ago. I just got out of the bathroom. I took a shit. I'm going to go to the plasma place today. I hope my mom's still home so I can get some busfare.
She turned off the computer last night. Damnit, mom. I was downloading.
9:27am I am leaving my mom's house. I've been in that house for a couple days straight. I'm going to go donate plasma. Damnit, I forgot to put on deodorant. I'm going back in the house.
9:30am Leaving again.
9:39am I'm at the Citgo.
I just need to reiterate once again that anytime I am walking and cars are passing me I give them the peace sign. I have been making myself known. Almost everyone waves back in San Antonio.
10:09am Well, I guess the bus doesn't pass at 50 anymore. I thought it did at first. It didn't come at all. I am still waiting for it. I saw it pass going the other direction.
10:19am At long last there is the bus. The 606.
10:20am Dulce hooked me up with a nickel for a transfer on the bus. I appreciate it, Dulce. Everybody gets credit, thanks.
10:29am Johnny hooked me up with a cigarette at the Walmart. I appreciate it, brother.
10:46am I had a great presentation on the bus with Josh. He just got off. He works at Sonic on Babcock and Eckhert. In the end he was all, "It was really nice to meet you."
11:01am I saw Kassie(3-8-04, 12:00pm and 3-15-04, 11:57am and 3-17-04, 8:00am and 8:20am and 3-18-04, 7:27pm and 3-19-04, 7:37am and 12:32am and 3-21-04, I talked about Kassie a lot on the 21st. and 3-22-04, 6:29pm and 3-24-04, 11:03pm and 3-24-05, 8:40pm) at the hospital. She quickly extended her hand for me to shake it, so I wouldn't give her a hug.
Page 344, The Original Prosumers is a damn good section.
11:30am I forgot to tell you. I am already in Balcones Heights. I'm going to go to Cristan's and get some tacos before I donate.
I got a taco from my good friend Bruno.
12:12pm I already got screened and everything. Then they called me back to the booth and the dude told me he smelled weed on me. Which is bullshit, because my one-hitter is virtually smokeless. They told me, "You were smoking." I went, "Yeah, it was a cigarette, tobacco." He told me, "Let me see your cigarettes." I told him, "I bummed it." He asked me, "What kind was it?" I laughed and said, "Umm, a Doral." Then one girl told him, "Well, it didn't smell like a Doral." I straight up asked him, "Are you accusing me of something?" He said, "Oh no, but you know if you have any of that stuff in your system it'll mess up the readings when we screen you. He gave me some bullshit excuse about it messing up my test results. Even though I have smoked weed every single time I've donated since 1998. He called LouAnn over to smell me and LouAnn said, "I don't smell nothing." They don't have shit on me.
They ain't got shit on me. That was real funny though. Fuck the system.
Hehe, I had loaded a hit from my little mint can and taken it right in front of the big window looking outside. I am sure they saw me inside and got the gossip rolling. People need to mind their own damn business.
I should have told him, "You didn't know that half of your staff is lit up right now?"
12:27pm I got stuck about five minutes ago. My iron was real high, 48. I already went through my first cycle. I hit 198, which has been way better.
1:34pm I just walked out of the plasma place. I have twenty bucks. They changed the pay scale for good they said. Now you get twenty dollars the first visit of the week and thirty the second.
The girl who stuck me was Viola. I told Viola, "Did you know I just got accused of smoking weed?" She told me, "Well, everybody knows you got that little pipe that looks like a cigarette." Damn! I couldn't believe she mentioned that. Word travels fast in that place. They all know about my pipe! That's alright, though. As long as they are talking about me.
2:09pm About to catch the 92.
"THE CONCEPT OF PRACTOPIA
What we see here are the outlines, therefore, of a wholly new way of life, affecting not only individuals but the planet MS well. The new civilization sketched here can hardly be termed a Utopia. It will be agitated by deep problems, some of which we will explore in the remaining pages. Problems of iclf and community. Political problems. Problems of justice, equity, and morality. Problems with the new economy (and especially the relationship between employment, welfare, and prosumption). All these and many more will arouse fighting passions.
But Third Wave civilization is also no "anti-utopia." It is not 1984 writ large or Brave New World brought to life. Moth these brilliant books— and hundreds of derivative defence fiction stories—paint a future based on highly central-l/.i-d, bureaucratized, and standardized societies, in which individual differences are eradicated. We are now heading in exactly the opposite direction.
While the Third Wave carries with it deep challenges for humanity, from ecological threats to the danger of nuclear terrorism and electronic fascism, it is not simply a nightmarish linear extension of industrialism.
We glimpse here instead the emergence of what might be mlled a "practopia"—neither the best nor the worst of all possible worlds, but one that is both practical and preferable to the one we had. Unlike a Utopia, a practopia is not free of disease, political nastiness, and bad manners. Unlike most Utopias, it is not static or frozen in unreal perfection. Nor is it reversionary, modeling itself on some imagined ideal of the past.
Conversely, a practopia does not embody the crystalized evil of a Utopia turned inside out. It is not ruthlessly antidemocratic. It is not inherently militarist. It does not reduce its citizens to faceless uniformity. It does not destroy its neighbors and degrade its environment.
In short, a practopia offers a positive, even a revolutionary alternative, yet lies within the range of the realistically attainable.
Third Wave civilization, in this sense, is precisely that: a practopian future. One can glimpse in it a civilization that makes allowance for individual difference, and embraces (rather than suppresses) racial, regional, religious, and sub-cultural variety. A civilization built in considerable measure around the home. A civilization that is not frozen hi amber but pulsing with innovation, yet which is also capable of providing enclaves of relative stability for those who need or want them. A civilization no longer required to pour its best energies into marketization. A civilization capable of directing great passion into art. A civilization facing unprecedented historical choices—about genetics and evolution, to choose a single example—and inventing new ethical or moral standards to deal with such complex issues. A civilization, finally, that is at least potentially democratic and humane, hi better balance with the biosphere and no longer dangerously dependent on exploitative subsidies from the rest of the world. Hard work to achieve, but not impossible.
Flowing together in grand confluence, today's changes thus point to a workable countercivilization, an alternative to the increasingly obsolete and unworkable industrial system.
They point, in a word, to practopia.
Page 365
THE NEW PSYCHO-SPHERE
A new civilization is forming. But where do we fit into it? Don't today's technological changes and social upheavals mean the end of friendship, love, commitment, community, and caring? Won't tomorrow's electronic marvels make human relationships even more vacuous and vicarious than they are today?
These are legitimate questions. They arise from reasonable fears, and only a naive technocrat would brush them lightly aside. For if we look around us we find widespread evidence of psychological breakdown. It is as though a bomb had gone off in our communal "psycho-sphere." We are, in fact, experiencing not merely the breakup of the Second Wave techno-sphere, info-sphere, or socio-sphere but the crack-up of its psycho-sphere as well.
Throughout the affluent nations the litany is all too familiar: rising rates of juvenile suicide, dizzyingly high levels of alcoholism, widespread psychological depression, vandalism, and crime. In the United States, emergency rooms are crowded with "potheads," "speed freaks" and "Quaalude kids," "coke sniffers" and "heroin junkies," not to mention people having "nervous breakdowns."
Social work and mental health industries are booming everywhere. In Washington a President's Commission on Mental Health announces that fully one fourth of all citizens hi Ihe United States suffer from some form of severe emotional stress. And a National Institute of Mental Health psychologist, charging that almost no family is free of some form of mental disorder, declares that "psychological turbulence . . . is rampant in an American society that is confused, divided and concerned about its future."
It is true that spongy definitions and unreliable statistics make such sweeping generalizations suspect, and it is doubly true that earlier societies were scarcely models of good mental health. Yet something is terribly wrong today.
There is a harassed, knife-edge quality to daily life. Nerves are ragged, and—as the scuffles and shootings in subways or on gas queues suggest—tempers are barely under hair-trigger control. Millions of people are terminally fed up.
They are, moreover, increasingly hassled by an apparently swelling army of heavy breathers, kooks, flakes, weirdos, and psychos whose antisocial behavior is frequently glamorized by the media. In the West at least, we see a pernicious romanti-cization of insanity, a glorification of the "cuckoo nest" inmate. Best-sellers proclaim that madness is a myth, and a literary journal springs up in Berkeley dedicated to the notion that "Madness, Genius and Sainthood all lie in the same realm, and should be given the same name and prestige."
Meanwhile, millions of individuals search frantically for their own identities or for some magic therapy to re-integrate their personalities, provide instant intimacy or ecstasy, or lead them to "higher" states of consciousness.
By the late 1970's a human potential movement, spreading eastward from California, had spawned some 8,000 different "therapies" consisting of odds and ends of psychoanalysis, Eastern religion, sexual experimentation, game playing, and old-time revivalism. In the words of one critical survey, "these techniques were neatly packaged and distributed coast to coast under names like Mind Dynamics, Arica, and Silva Mind Control. Transcendental Meditation was already being peddled like speed reading; Scientology's Dianetics had been massmarketing its own popular therapy since the fifties. At the same time, America's religious cults got into the swing, fanning out quietly across the country in massive fund-raising and recruitment drives."
More important than the growing human-potential industry is the Christian evangelical movement. Appealing to poorer and less educated segments of the public, making sophisticated use of highpowered radio and television, the "bora again" movement is ballooning in size. Religious hucksters, riding its crest, send their followers scrambling for salvation in a society they picture as decadent and doomed.
This wave of malaise has not struck all parts of the technological world with equal force. For this reason, readers in Europe and elsewhere may be tempted to shrug it off as a largely American phenomenon, while in the United States itself some still regard it as just another manifestation of California's fabled flakiness.
Neither view could be further from the truth. If psychic distress and disintegration are most strikingly evident hi the United States, and especially California, it merely reflects the fact that the Third Wave has arrived a bit earlier than elsewhere, causing Second Wave social structures to topple sooner and more spectacularly.
Indeed, a kind of paranoia has settled over many communities, and not just in the United States. In Rome and Turin, terrorists stalk the streets. In Paris, and even in once peaceful London, muggings and vandalism increase. In Chicago, elderly people are afraid to walk the streets after dark. In New York, schools and subways crackle with violence. And hack in California, a magazine offers its readers a supposedly practical guide to "handguns and gun courses, attack-trained dogs, burglar alarms, personal-safety devices, self-defense courses and computerized security systems."
There is a sick odor in the air. It is the smell of a dying Second Wave civilization."
1:51pm Downtown. St. Mary's and Martin.
2:57pm I'm talking to Arlynda. What's your email? crybabydreamlove@yahoo.com
3:07pm I'm talking to Judas out here in the park. What was your email? rickspadeshpv@yahoo.com
3:19pm Sam hooked me up with a cigarette at Travis Park. I appreciate it, brother.
I'm talking to Ron in the park. Ron is this dude who came up to me in the park and asked me if I had any reefer. I told him I didn't have any to sell, but that I would smoke him out. We came to a park bench on the far side of the park and he agreed to listen to my story. What's your email, Ron? riomanu@yahoo.com
4:02pm I'm talking to Ron, this guy who came up to me in the park. How old are you, Ron? Thirty four. He told me, "I saw you smoking reefer." I told him, "I only smoke cigarettes, hehe." We came and sat down and I just told him my whole odyssey story. He was looking to buy some weed. After my story I apologized for not being able to sell him any and showed him the tiny layer of weed dust I had remaining on my tin. Maybe good for three or four hits. Ron said, "I'll give you twenty dollars for that." Alright, cool! I can go buy me another tin now. More marijuana too. It all comes back, brother. I appreciate it.
4:08pm That dude Tommy never showed up at three. It's cool how I got twenty bucks more anyway. I have thirty eight now, since I bought a hotdog this morning. I'm going to go to Walgreen's and go shopping. I need to get a new picture of that dead dog made. I wish they would let me develop the scanned picture of my ID again. I'm taking off traveling soon.
4:32pm I just came out of Walgreen's. The coolest shit happened. I went inside and up to the picture machine. I popped in my CD but it wouldn't find all my pictures like it did last time. It would only find one. The only one it found was the first one, my Texas driver's license. Last time resetting the machine fixed it and it found all 500+ pictures. I asked the lady to reset it, but it still wouldn't find them all. See, I thought it was the same lady who knew I wasn't supposed to print out my license(5-31-05, 4:06pm). This lady ended up coming over here, resetting it and tried scanning for all the pictures again. It only found my ID again. I told her, "Hey, I don't suppose you'd let me have that one at least?" She went, "Oh, you want this one?" She went through all the steps of printing it out herself. I got my ID back! I guess it wasn't that lady who didn't let me last time. Maybe it was and she hooked me up.
I'm going to walk down Commerce to the Market Square and buy my little marijuana flasher strobe pin again. Two of them.
What an awesome day I am having already. I got hooked up with twenty bucks. I got my ID printed out. I thought I was going to have to go to a different Walgreen's to get it again.
Oh yeah, at Walgreen's I bought another Eclipse mint can. This one is full of mints, not weed. Yet.
4:48pm Oh, I didn't tell you. I just went in the thriftstore, The Goodwill. I actually found that blue shirt that I wanted last time. The one that goes perfectly with my mission(5-31-05, 5:33pm). The one that says, "You have to look at the whole picture." Hehe, the guy who told me, "You can't haggle," last time, he told me, "Oh, you're back and you found the shirt again." I told him, "I had to have it." Hehe, he remembered me. Just like I wanted him to.
5:00pm I just came out of the Market Square. The girl gave me a deal on some batteries. I got my marijuana pin back. I was going to buy two of them, one for backup on my travel. I only got one and spent two dollars on four batteries.
5:21pm Haha, this guy Luis recognized me across the street and I went up to him. This guy is convinced I went to Hobby Middle School with him. Umm, I never went to Hobby. When I told him I never went there he told me to stop lying, that he could show me the yearbook at his apartment and everything. I bet him fifty bucks that he couldn't. He said, "Let's go." He lives in The Willows Apartments close to Planet K on Evers and Wurzbach. We just came to the bus stop on St. Mary's by The Riverwalk. I saw a transit cop standing there and I told Luis, "I love telling cops my story." He said, "Go tell that one, then." I said, "I'll try, but he's not going to listen. He's busy writing stuff down when each bus pulls up." I went over and hit the cop up for my story and he wasn't willing to listen, just like I predicted. I told the pig, "Thanks for proving me right. Ignorance is bliss." At least he knows. That's all I want.
Oh yeah, Luis told me I told him my story one time walking through The Willows. I have to look that up.
Right now we're on the bus cruising over to his house. He said I'd be able to get some weed at The Willows.
6:20pm Oh yeah, we got off on Bandera and Wurzbach. We're going to walk to The Willows.
We walked to The Willows and Luis told me to go knock on his door to see if his girl is home for him. While he went to score my sack. I went and knocked on the door and nobody answered. I started walking away. His girl answers the door and I yell back, "Luis told me to check if anyone is home while he scores some weed for me." She tells me, "Well, tell him there wasn't."
6:59pm Candy hooked me up with a cigarette at the pool at The Willows. I appreciate it, Candy. Everybody gets credit, thanks.
She even gave me a light!
7:13pm I went to the pool, bummed a cigarette and told my platform. She couldn't listen to the rest because she was busy with her kids. She agreed with everything I said. After I told her I was going to get marijuana legalized she said, "Oh, my kids would love that." I think I might have lost this Luis guy. He was supposed to be going to get the weed. I'm going to go find him. I know where he lives.
7:18pm Juan, at the taco stand by the Conoco on Wurzbach hooked me up with a cigarette. Te lo agradezco, Juan. Todo el mundo recibe crédito, gracias.
Oh yeah, I'm standing in front of the bus stop in front of The Willows. This Luis guy swore he knew me from middle school. I didn't go to Hobby. After I bummed a cigarette at the pool I walked back and saw Luis coming out of the apartment. His girl just kicked him out, hehe. He was like carrying clothes and shit. He told me the weed guy wasn't there. I figured I'd go to Grandma's house at Oaklawn. I'm going to catch the next 534 that comes. I've got twenty four dollars right now.
I went in the Conoco right there, walked inside and grabbed some free ice water from the soda fountain. You know, the water lever on the lemonade. See, before, like a year ago this Habib who worked there didn't let me get water(5-20-04, 9:10pm). I remember him saying something like, "We sell water here," and he had yelled at me in his language. Well I'm guessing that since I had just walked in this time and helped myself, when I went back inside and asked him if he had any lighters he told me, "We don't sell lighters here." It's a gas station, damnit. I told him, "What a shitty convenience store you run." When I went outside guess what I found on the ground. An awesome refillable butane lighter! It works and everything. It's called a Slidelight. How perfect. The universe provides. Thank you, Love. What a great day I am having.
Like hell they don't sell lighters. The lighter I found was probably bought there. And I got it for free! Just like the water!! Muhahaha!
7:15pm I see the bus.
7:24pm I'm at University Hospital. I talked to some guy about his bike on the bus.
7:43pm I just got off the 91 over by Oaklawn. I'm going to go see if Grandma's got any marijuana. Oh man, I had the most attentive listener on the bus right now. This really pretty girl. This older lady. She agreed with every thing I said. Everybody does.
Especially about the marijuana.
I had been thinking about staying downtown, but I thought, "Nah, the weed is calling me." I'm really glad I left when I did.
8:55pm I have an update to make. Hmm, what happened last? Let me rewind it and remember.
Okay, I remember now. Anyway, I went to Grandma's house and nobody was there. Even though the TV was on and the dog was barking, but no one answered the door. I kind of guessed where Ian and Evan's apartment was and I went and knocked on their door. The whole gang was up there. Even Thor and Gypsy Jo. I asked them if they knew where I could buy some weed. Justin said he could get weed from Grandma's. Grandma had recently kicked Justin out of her house, but Justin went in through a window and stole a couple dimebags from her stash and sold me one. He kept the ten dollars I gave him. Ha, and the whole world is going to know!! What a thief, eh?
I have some marijuana. Me, Jo and Thor we came back to Thor's apartment at the Warren Inn. I talked to his dad. I mean his mom's boyfriend. With bong in tow we came to the old tree we used to hang out at. Remember the one they cleared out(4-5-05, paragraph that starts with: Walked Fredericksburg and turned left on Magic.). There's another couch out there now and more people hanging out. We loaded up a bigass bowl on the bong with the weed I had just bought. We're all ripped right now while I make this entry. We're having a good, jolly time. Do you guys want to contribute to this reality that's going on? Any contributions?
Gypsy Jo: "Hit the bong, Victor. Okay, is this going to go on the Internet? Everyone is going to see this? Leax, if you ever see this man, peace. I told you I'd make it big. And I LOVE YOU DRIFTER! I'm all stoned. Come here, get this on tape."
Victor: "I can't type that up. Or maybe I can [bong making gurgling noises]."
9:37pm I got invited to dinner at Jo and Thor's. They're not together, Thor is Drifter's friend I think and Drifter is in jail. Jo is patiently waiting for his release. Right now I'm leaving to go catch the bus and go home. Dinner was hella-good. They fed the peace machine.
I need to make a prayer to Love. Please let me get my tooth pulled before I leave. The gap is getting bigger. It's going to hurt one of these days. I'm not sure what I'm going to do.
9:46pm I thought I was going to walk all the way to University Hospital. I took off then I remembered I had to check at grandma's because that guy at the plasma place told me they had found the bottle I lost over there(5-15-05, 7:40pm). I went back and asked grandma about it. She told me, "Yeah, I found it under the couch and I set it outside and told them if you ever came back to give it to you. But I don't see it anywhere now." Damnit, she should have put it in a secure place. I didn't get my bottle back. I'm going to go wait for the bus.
Leticia hooked me up with a cigarette at the Tetco. I appreciate it, Leticia. Everybody gets credit, thanks.
10:01pm The weirdest thing. I was standing there in front of the Chevron in front of Graham Central Station. This guy pulls up in a truck and asks me, "Hey, will you take me home? I'm not from here. I'm from Oregon." I go, "Sure." I thought I was meant to tell this guy my story. I got in his car and he wouldn't listen to me at all. He all tried to hand me some alcohol that he was drinking. We drove all the way to these apartments on Callaghan and Torino, Mockingbird Pond I think they're called. I started to worry this drunk guy might try something. I just got out of the truck. Hmm, I wonder why I got zapped over here tonight. Probably to tell my story. I'm right next to the Chacho's. I'm going to go see if my friend Angelo is working there still. The rent-a-cop(4-21-04, 12:55am).
10:32pm I had told myself I was going to see if my friend Angelo was still doing security at Chacho's. It's Monday night, so he's probably not there. He sure enough was. Right now I'm telling this dude my story. Angelo just bought me a taco. Just like good old times. I appreciate it, brother. Thanks for feeding the peace machine.
Cool, Angelo is having me go to the gas station and buy him a water and a pack of cigarettes. He told me to keep the change, like four or five bucks. I appreciate it.
11:07pm I am leaving Chacho's. It's awesome how I ended up here tonight. That one drunk guy all gave me a ride. Oh yeah, when I went to go buy cigarettes for Angelo, the cashier asked me for my ID. I explained to her the whole story how I got my wallet stolen and had a scanned copy of it. She wouldn't let me buy cigarettes with that. She said it wasn't a valid ID.
11:28pm I just walked all the way to the Diamond Shamrock on Horizon Hill and Medical. I smoked a snipe I had found and I'm walking off now.
I forgot to tell you, I had some great presentations at the Chacho's. I have been talking my mouth off all day.
Oh yeah, Gypsy Jo gave me a cool crystal. It's my new pocket pal.
11:43pm I'm walking down Medical. I'm going to walk all the way home. I walked by the Wingstop right after Fredericksburg. I saw these two girls eating outside and went and hit them up for my story. I wasn't asking for anything, but one of the girls Peanut said, "You want these wings?" I appreciate it, Tina. For my walk home. peanut1411@hotmail.com
12:05am I sat down at the bus stop in front of the Wingstop and I ate five hotwings. If I'm not getting signs to walk home, then I don't know a damn thing. Oh yeah, earlier when I had left Chacho's Angelo handed me this yummy breaded onion. He told me the workers inside brought it out for me. They probably thought I was a bum or something. Or, they knew exactly who I was. I have that in my bag so I have enough food to walk all the way home.
12:26am I had been considering camping outside in the woods at Wurzbach/Babcock, but screw that. I am walking all the way home. I'm crazy. All the way from Callaghan and I10. All the way to my mom's house. I'm going to walk Medical all the way to Babcock and walk the old 610 route all the way home.
I'm on Oakdell Way.
12:35am I am walking down Oakdell Way still. Do you know what I just noticed? The ball on my stick has barely worn out. I've had it for a couple days now and have been walking everywhere. It's because my stick is so light. I could wear a ball out in less than a day with my old one. That's so great. I got an upgrade.
12:44am I'm walking North Knoll to North Hollow.
I forgot who it was that I told my story to. Maybe like yesterday or the day before. When I asked the person wouldn't they work for free if all your needs were taken care of, they told me, "Yes, most everybody would." That's right. Most everybody would.
It was so awesome how I got yanked out of downtown today. I was just walking down St. Mary's and all of a sudden this kid across the street yells at me, "Hey, Victor!" He could've sworn he knew me from middle school, but I didn't go to Hobby. Then I followed him home, but he didn't have any weed. I had a presentation at the pool. Then I scored me that cool lighter. Then I scored some weed at Oaklawn and got that weird ride to Chacho's. Oh yeah, I got hooked up with dinner at Jo's. Everything just went great for me tonight. Now I'm going to walk all the way home. I'm in a good mood. I ate a lot. I even have a yummy onion in my bag for when I get hungry. It's a grilled onion, I think. It's wrapped in foil. I hope the oil doesn't seep through and stain my new shirt I got at the thrift store.
12:56am I just got to Huebner. I'm going to cut through the little trail to Bluebird Lane. To the neighborhood behind Marshall High School. Right behind the Assembly of Faith church.
I'm on Deer Lane. I walked up to Redbird. I'm turning right on Redbird. I'm behind Marshall.
1:05am Turning left on Stebbins Drive.
I really haul ass with this new stick. It's so awesome that it's so tall. I haven't stopped to rest since the Wingstop on Medical/Fredericksburg. I've been walking ever since. I've been hauling ass too.
Cool, I saw these five deer run off. Awesome, in these people's front yard.
When I popped out onto the neighborhood street, behind that church, I took a left thinking that would get me closer to Bandera. I should've taken a right and gone to Bluebird Lane instead. Ahh, I'll walk wherever I end up.
Turning right on Thunderbird Lane. Oh, there's the Marshall football field right there.
1:16am I am about to pop out on Eckhert. I'm walking through the trail right now. Right before I get out on the street, guess what I see on the ground. One of my worn tennis balls with a hole in it! I hadn't left it where it was, it's been moved or something. It's right on the trail, which means it's fresh. I have to look up when I left it(5-1-05, 9:55am). Whoa, I left that ball there a month ago. With so much school-kid traffic that goes through this trail I am really surprised it's still there. That's so awesome. My signs are everywhere!
1:26am The weirdest thing. I'm almost to Bandera and Eckhert. Remember that bus stop where I tagged Victor the Liberator on the ground(4-24-05, paragraph that starts with: Man, I got so high off that resin. and 5-1-05, 9:43am)? I stopped to see if it was still there. I couldn't find a trace of it anywhere. That's so weird. It disappeared. That's weird that someone would go through the trouble of cleaning it. I have to retag it, but not right now.
1:39am That was a badass onion they gave me! It has all this crunchy breading and stuff. It was damn good. I had some gourmet food tonight. First at Jo and Thor's, Angelo bought me a taco at Chachos', then I walked to Medical and got hooked up with some spicy wings and now I get to eat this gourmet breaded onion-ball. I'm going to walk Bandera to Guilbeau and then walk Wickersham home.
1:51am I just got to the Walmart on Mainland. I'm going to go buy a camera.
2:03am I bought my camera. When I got here there was another guy who was out walking too. He saw me and immediately asked me if I had any weed. I told him, "Sure, I'll smoke you out. Let me go inside and buy a camera first." I went inside and bought the camera. I came back out and asked him, "Do you want to smoke? Let's go to the smoking cabana. There's nobody there." He said, "Oh no, I don't want to get busted by the cops." I told him not to worry about it and showed him my fake cigarette. He still didn't want to. I told him, "Alright, more for me then." What a pussy. He had given me a cigarette, so I'm going to stop somewhere and smoke it and take a hit of weed. I'm having a good night. What a great day I've had today.
2:08am I am leaving the Walmart again. I went back in and got some water.
2:14am I'm walking down Guilbeau. Right before Wickersham. I saw these kids walking from the HEB hauling all these bigass things of toilet paper. I yelled across the street, "Hey! Are you guys going to toilet paper someone's house?!" They said yeah and I yelled, "Can I help?" I kind of weirded them out and they ignored me. Ahh, I'll just keep walking then. I asked them, "Do you guys want to smoke some weed?" They said they would pass.
2:50am I am arriving at my mother's house. I can't believe I walked here all the way from Callaghan and I10.
And I hauled ass the whole way. I was speed-walking the whole time. The only break I took was at the Citgo on Eckhert, where I ate some of my onion. I stopped at the Walmart to buy a camera, but that's not really a rest. I'm tired.
3:25am The Internet doesn't work. They're going to bust me for all the downloading I've been doing. I mean, I've been running five or six downloads at a time all day and night. I'm going to call tomorrow and see what happened. When I call and they tell me shit I'll tell them, "I didn't do anything wrong. I was downloading pirated software. Me and my friends have been doing it since we first got online."
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