oh mother of --- its mother --- hot.  I can't work smoothly, mouse all sticky (and no! I'm not going through porn).  I can't sleep, can't open the windows --- them thugs jacked my ish whilst a window was open and I was sleeping. Not cool.

I am re-designing GUSTO --- I like what it looks like now, but it's only form and not functional.   So, I'm working on a newer interface --- trust me, it will make sense then.

I know I write mostly of the work I do, but hey, what can I say, it's my soon to be bread and butter.  I am also thinking of re-doing this journal/book --- this look is tired.

I'm listening to some CD somebody told me it's dope, dam it, this shit is wack --- I don't like house music with 'piano' strings on it, couple with a lot of melodic-singing --- not inspiring.  I find myself getting frustrated for no reason when the music playing is kak.

Alas, switching to my 'dope' playlist.

Dam, I hope I finish GUSTO by end of the week, I don't think I'll have the time to do it after that.  Mr S83 approved the design for his magazine, it should launch on Monday/Tuesday, it will, it should, it might.

After them (S83 + GUSTO) I dive into 75, on the 19th of April it will be turning 1 year old --- and dam, I got news for ya on 75 --- alas, we wait till it's re-designed (I've finished the re-development though).

Till tomorrow, assuming I sleep.

Father,
I've stretched my hands to thee
crying lord
remember,
me

Alicia Keys - MTV Unplugged opening sequence.

I am without inspiration, completely.

I have things to do, things need to get done, but I am not inspired.

I am lost. 

... I am loosing the energy I have been carrying for the past four/six weeks.  I seem to be incapable of building the things, I need to build.  Maybe I need a 'design+break' or a beer.

I have not drank alcohol in a long time (which is bad, m'kay).  I have been sober for way too long, in my opinion, alcohol clouds the mind, but, when you recover new thought patterns emerge.  You know, when you come back from holiday, you came back refreshed, although nothing as really changed?

That is what I need, a new take on thinking.

I was invited to go to a 'formula one' cham-pag-ne morning, tomorrow.  I declined.  I have work to do, although I am not doing any work, at the mo. I blame the music I have on this computer, way too much hiphop, I love hiphop, but this ish here is from my younger brother, way too much hiphop.

Anywho, once again, I depart with a story.

I was, rushing back from giving a lecture on Thursday, driving back home, I realised I needed coffee and a bit o' cash for gas and smokes.  I drive to the BP garage after Louis Botha on Corlette drive if you are driving towards Alexandra. I get there, and it turns out my bank card cannot be read, I get frustrated, coz I need some smokes, dam it. Anywho, it turns out, it was not just me, but other people were not able to use the FNB ATM, collective therapy.  So I drive off to the spar in Kew? (i think its in Kew), or was it pick 'n pay (their brands never stick to my mind).

So, I get in the pick 'n spar, search for the isle with coffee. I find it.  Now I need to search for CIRO, coz I don't do Nescafé, in fact I try to avoid Israeli or American products.  Ciro coffee is from Brasil, but I am desperately trying to find coffee from Ethiopia. I pick up, 'double esspreso', I head to the till, and in a fraction of an 8th of a second, I see the coffee fall to the ground, I tried balancing it with my foot, but nothing... the sound echoes, the noise level drops in the shop, actually it did not, that's all I heard, the breaking glass.

I  start thinking, err, am I going to pay for it, or should I run, should I pretend it's the old  white man on a wheelchair next to me?  I start mentally calculating how much I have on me, would it be enough to pay for one for two coffee's. Before I could start carrying over a one, I hear a voice say, "o s'ka wara, makgowa a thuba dilo lebona, ebile ha ba patele, so, le wena tsamaya o ye o nka engwe gape, o se ke wa itshwenya ka e e thubegileng."

Hmm...