I'd like to write more--possibly something prolific or whatever--but I've been drinking all evening and sensible things like that just won't come to me. His death has bothered me all day, which is a testament to him (even though I thought he was an asshole).

I was thinking all day that it seems that when people die suddenly, they are instantly venerated, no matter what they were like in life. Heard that Jeff actually died 2 weeks ago, but they only found him recently. Two weeks with nobody caring, nobody wondering, nobody calling. I hope that when I die, people won't be totally devastated, but they will at least wonder.

What would it take for you--yes, you, as a reader, not as the usual audience I'm always writing to in my head--to notice if I'd died?

I wanted to write about sudden, unforseen death (i.e. suicide) versus long, drawn-out death (like my grandfather's), but I'll save that for a time when I'm sober.

On an unrelated note, Matt's made me want to go out and do acid. Oh, to be numbed to reality and yet have no handover....