Difficult, difficult, lemon difficult. I lost sight of the path and yet I still managed to take a few steps forward; I just can't remember why it's important or what direction I'm going in. I think I've sufficiently come down off my high from the weekend, crashing back to earth.

I made very coherent pencil marks on a piece of staff paper, possibly a rough beginning to the orchestra piece. I've come to realize that I should allow myself to work on the smallest bits possible; it's easier to get, to get over inertia, and then it will be easier to put together.

And then Live crashed some more and made me sad. I finally sent a note off to the support crew who sent me an automatic message saying that they're really busy. Hopefully, I'll hear from them soon. It's disconcerting how depressing it is when it crashed. I see my vision of making this kind of music live crumble.

Reading Nietzsche at the bar, I realize that I'm not one of those people who doubts until it's proven; I'm one to believe until it's disproven. Something to remember. Fools rush in. Blah, blah, blah. Und so weiter.

The Jehovah's Witnesses dropped off one of their god-forsaken pamphlets on the doorstep; I'm not sure when and I'm not sure how. There were no footsteps in the snow, which means they either did it yesterday and it snowed a little over night, or they are the undead and leave no footsteps. I'll burn it in my next fire.

After the Roadhouse (bar) and a 10-dollar pork chop, I veged, flipping between 30 Rock and the "Dude". They made me smile, but not as much as this: