i need to rest my aching head. it's 6:35 in the morning and brasilia and i've been spending the night ripping cds, attempting to pack [and getting nowhere], eating junk food and...well...that's it. my life. or...my life here is about to end. this is my last full day in brazil...tomorrow morning [friday] is going to be spent...leaving. 2 and a half months pass by so fast. whatever. i can't wait to go home. but i can wait to do the things that i have to do when i get home...just that i can't. i mean...who can fit in banking, applying for university and updating car insurance and road tax documentation in 3 days? a lot of people, but not me...for i am the master procrastinator. hey. that rhymes. in a way. but alas, i have no choice, if i want to drive a kancil...which i don't want to, but then again...i have no choice. i could go on whining and whining but the truth of the matter is, this is my second time typing something like this out in 10 minutes...try #1 didn't really get published. mmmph. there's a flaw in the system. that statement brings back thoughts of a never-ending metropolis [or at least just sydney] being bullet-ridden and full of people in cool black suits. and slow motion shots of girls holding a gun ala two gun mojo. speaking of mojo...the powerpuff girls are so cute. they're adorable. mmm. this is probably a symptom of staying up for a long time. probably...but not likely...mmm. the birds are chirping outside. and they're pretty loud. i wish i could smile a bit, but i'm slightly cranky. my eyes are starting to hurt, and i've just realized that i'm still blabbering away about nothing...though i guess that's what the point of this whole thing is. well...a brief introduction seems to be at hand here. i guess.

to cut it short...i'm 19, a full-fledged funkyhippo [with even some groove to spare to all you spacemonekeys out there who have no beat], a whitey in a chink body [banana republican], with a passion for the voice. yes. i'm that funky; it's all all-out crime. mmm. 40 more minutes and i'm going to the pool. absolutely. i'll probably sleep and drown in it, and no one would probably notice. it's that bad...if you're reading this, paolo, you're the star of my show. yes, now that i have the thought of doing it, let me tell you about [sic]...[sic] was the brainchild of paolo and jason sanjeev [who has since gone awol]. the band's objective is to be as obnoxious and as uppity...more than any other band around. but a few things hold the band from stardom.

#1: there is no band at the moment, save paolo and a beat maker.
#2: paolo is [sic]...who's been to every [sic] gig? paolo. [it worked better if the name "krist n." replaced "paolo" and "[sic]" was replaced with "nirvana"].
#3: paolo writes the songs of [sic]...which have been sorely lacking.
#4: i sing like a croaking frog. that's probably why there're no groupies.

well, today is the day that i fight back. yes. it is. i'll write songs...good ones...and contribute them to the [sic] canon. no more taitalk (my yet to be released solo album)...i'll focus on [sic] indefinitely. my commitment to the band only shows how much i love it...remember...God gave rock and roll to you...and you can thank Kiss for that lovely title. yes. the planes are flying overhead. i stay near a airport. airports remind me of u2 in the "beautiful day" video from their album all that you can't leave behind (universal, 2001). and speaking of which...i saw their live in boston concert video on hbo just now, from 0130 to 0300...it was good stuff. bono is the man to beat. he's so full of energy...he was running laps around. mmm. i wonder how many calories you lose by performing a night. yes. a vainpot am i. a chinese peacock. just without the grace and beauty. grace finds beauty in many things. amen. that's all for now. i want to swim with the leaves and be free. be free. walk on. amen.