It's 5:15am on Monday morning. Most sensible people--and even a good portion of the unsensible are asleep.

Me, I'm finishing a can of Crest I swore I wouldn't ever touch and smoking cigarettes I don't particularly want or enjoy.

It's that kind of night.

I tried sleeping for a few hours, but nothing came of it. I guess my body's rested, but the body is slave to the mind so what good does that do me?

I guess that explains the cigarettes and Crest: If you can't bring everyone up to the bar, might as well bring down the best.

I'm getting used to that kind of sentiment. I think I belong in Grad school, but you gotta buy your way in. You gotta pay your dues before you get to start living off of other people's. Even in studios you sweep floors and scrub toilets before you even get to watch someone else mix.

Maybe I'm in over my head--but if you're a fish that's a good thing, right? Sometimes it's hard to tell whether the gills are working or I'm just suffering from oxygen-deprivation-induced hallucinations.

But hey, the water's fine, dive on in.

I feel like a lot of my life is lived in secret. But maybe that's true for everyone. I feel like a very small part of my life is lived in everyone else's eyes whether I'm there or not.

But then, maybe I'm just another guy. But then, who's reading this?

-Trevor

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