4,000 words

i've set myself a mini-goal to write 4,000 words in one day and it is really difficult. i started it yesteray and got 1,994. today i'm just over 2,000 (but i have time to write still. even if i am getting tired). it is seriously hard. i don't know how some people are at 100,000 words already. (yes - i have seen one person at this count). even the people at 50,000 are doing well. buh - i just don't know how they did it.
well today - i think i should make 3,000 at least. if i can coax another 1,000 words from my brain. that would be cool. that would cover the last scene of chapter 4 and then i'd be onto chapter 5 + that is when everything starts to get really good.

apart from that i havn't much to say.


i had a cold-sore last week and its at that point of healed where its a cut on my lip. i woke up this morning and there was this lump of caked-on, dried-in, black blood where the cut is. it took a while to wash off. then this evening i was having a chicken in bread thing for dinner and on the first bite the cut ripped open and i had blood flavoured dinner for a bit afterward.
yes this is really gross - but its my journal and i can write about this stuff if i want. at least i had the deceancy to put it under a cut (heh heh - pun!! wheeee)



oh god - hyperness. i've been writing too long. buh.

i had the strangest dream last night. in it, i was a person (as you are) and i was in this hotel lobby kind of place. it seemed like some kind of airport hotel cause there were loads of travelling-seeming people there. (and something about a bus parked out the front??). anyway. there was a guy sitting at a coffee table thing to the right of the door, facing a large window. it was bright. he had a pen + it had writing on it (some company name, or his name or something. well - his name was paul but there was something different on the pen - which suggested he was not who he claimed to be). then something wierd happened and he squirted something from the pen into my mouth or in some other way got something from the pen into me.
the next bit i remember is me, hanging onto a pillar, with my hands reaching behind me and my feet hunched up and gripping the pillar - my front was facing the room. then i dove into the lobby and around a corner to a table to the left of the door. it was darker over here - there were no windows. there was a guy there talking to me about the way i felt or something. i felt strong and powerful. he was saying i could feel this way all the time + i just wanted to trust him, but something seemed sleazy about him. like a charm or something. or maybe he was nice and i was paranoid or something. but anyway: it was one of those beautiful dream feelings where you just feel totally secure and safe and nothing can touch you - that's they way his words made me feel.
i wish i could remember it a bit more clearly. there was way more at the start, involving houses and trains and having to be in the south and not knowing how to get there and stuff. and there was something about my mothers family and a walking house - that was eventually how i got where i was going. oddness.

633 words wasted on this post. blah. i feel bad. (643 now).