I've been writing longhand in my journal and it feels so good to flow into true penmanship again. It's a little more visceral than typing up a blog. Reading my journal from 1999 made me want to try physically writing again. I converted a few of those entries from 1999 into this blog last month but decided to save that entry as a draft. Basically that period of my youth is uncomfortably strange and unusual to me now. Despite its tumult, the diary documenting that time period was really quite beautiful. If only for the depiction it provided. Things I had completely forgotten, and it took me right there, to that very moment reliving it, or watching it from a distance. That's the beauty of an actual diary. I think the direction of thought is better documented that way, at least for myself and for the time being. Maybe it's because I know it's completely private. The act of writing, when we don't have to feel guarded in any way and the words become more effortless. They are complete thoughts, uninterrupted by judgement. Maybe I'll submit some entries from my current written journal into this blog. As for tonight, I'm once again super late in going to bed. I have a job interview tomorrow and I need to get some sleep, but I'm nervous, well just a little. On the other hand there's something that cycling has taught me... I know I can step up to the occasion when the pressure is on. It's interesting how riding a bicycle can be applied to life in so many little ways.

Here's an old Squarepusher track. I used to love when Dave played this one. We all lived on St. Paul Avenue in uptown Dallas and listened to great music, and created all kinds of art. I was a bike messenger then and life was different. I remember I would come home for lunch just to watch The Kids In The Hall with Matt. It wasn't long until I fell in love with the idea of bike racing. Anyway, this is odd and quarky track and for the most part unknown, but I love it.