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The sermon for Aug. 24, 2002 is: the end of all songs 1:32 p.m. I'm doing my damndest to run away. Or stop caring. Or something. I called Ray this morning and listened to his son Atom coo. Atom's two years old and has just watched "The Lord of The Rings," so apparently he's crawling about the house pretending he's Gollum. "My precious!" he squeaks in his two year old voice, "my precious!" I did a bunch of three-way calling with Ray. We called Amanda. Amanda was in a hotel room bathroom in Anaheim. Ray and I thought it very odd that she picked up the phone, especially since it was 7.45 in the morning. Amanda's boyfriend and her other boyfriend kept showering her with very loud things. Finally we lost the connexion. We kept trying to call Colleen but for some reason we couldn't dial through. We finally called Yong. Yong was doing drugs, the same drugs that Young was doing and that I am trying to do. "Why are you so chipper?" Yong said mournfully. "Why are you so fucking happy?" I keep trying to call Stephanie. God, I miss that girl. I'm supposed to go out with Lily now, which for some reason terrifies me. It seems so commonplace, and therefore dull. I'd rather hang out with Glen and kill myself. I'd rather be with Stephanie. But I think she's done with me. I wish life were simple. I wish I could run away. Ack! Ack! ACK! MY Precious!!
 
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