Yesterday night I finally left the house, for the first time this weekend. My friend and I saw Blackhawk Down; surprisingly, it was good. I expected a trite action film glorifying the event, but it was more than that. It's safe to say that I have a new respect for those who voluntarily go out into combat, on either side, though I still think war is the most idiotic practice of humanity. I was also relieved to find I was sickened by the graphic scenes of violence. I need evidence that I'm not desensitized by the media every so often.

After that, my friend and I just walked around town, going into various philosophical discourses. It's a wonderful feeling, getting all dillusional and just constantly spouting out whatever's on your mind. There's only a few people who I can talk to in such an open manner.

I ordered the Clinic album, Internal Wrangler, courtesy of Kristina's gift certificate.

Also, Kristina- I don't think it's possible to writing pointlessly in a journal. It's your thoughts in textual form, and thoughts don't need a point.