The Iron Heel by Jack London was a very depressing read. Also felt like a rough draft quite often. More so depressing because then I found out he probably died of kidney stones and I'm beyond two weeks with my latest kidney stone ordeal. I take the stent out tomorrow morning. Rather scared about that.

Nothing important to say about it though. One just lays around. Certainly don't feel very creative. Especially not when in pain. Watched movies lately when I could at least manage that, which is just more recently. Finally back to some fantasy fiction book.

Kind of unhappy with my minibrute synth. Attempted writing music lately. The fact that it hurts to sit makes it much harder. And.. meh. In general.

This world is a waste and therefore there's not much point in saying much. My eventual death isn't all that important. I wouldn't mind avoiding excruciating pain though. (So of course I have this reoccuring stone issue).

It's not a good situation but how could it be? At least I'm free.