Robert Goren

There's just only so much a person can take before you break, you know? I'm just so fed up. I don't want to deal with anything anymore.

I don't even know anything right now. I just can't stop thinking and all I want to do is sleep.

It's just been busy these recent months. But that's always the case, isn't it? Paperwork piles up and eventually there's no elbow space. Hm...You know, I seem to have made similar entries previously.

Either way, it's 3:03AM. The bed calls, I think.

The only recent topics are just really work and insomnia. There's just a lot of both.

I guess life has just become a little more overwhelming day by day. We find consequence. Some retribution. To people we (the people) think deserve it. But then every once in awhile, a good man goes down in the crossfire and you can only stand there and wonder if you'd ever be strong enough to take it if you were in front of the target instead.

I don't usually state my opinions unless I'm asked. Unncessary confrontation is tiring. But a conversation I had today with a suspect makes me want to reiterate the feelings that I displayed today (I think I might've scared my partner a bit).

I do not like George Bush.

Please, don't ask me to go into it. It's 4:36AM and I'm probably not thinking. Or maybe thinking too hard.

Today I spent my day sitting at Barnes & Nobles, reading. I had meant to browse, and perhaps even buy a book. But instead I just ended up picking out a couple, planting myself on a bench and reading for five hours straight.

All work, no play, makes for a nonchalant Robert.

(On another note, I'm sorry I haven't responded to some of you who'd sent me e-mails. Time isn't something I've got handy, though I wish I did. I'll try to respond when I can, thanks for being patient).

2:27AM. Nighttime gets me, you know? It's when you're supposed to be sleeping. And if you can't, you're screwed. There's never anything on TV, no one to talk to, nothing to distract yourself with except for yourself and whatever you're thinking about.

It was sunny today. Pretty nice out, but Eames and I were stuck at our desks finishing up paperwork. It was alright though, she had leftover candy from the Easter she spent with her nephew. Reeses. It's a peanut butter sandwich, with chocolate instead of bread. Just something I thought about.

Yeah. Well, I'm going to try to sleep now. Good night.

I thought I saw Nicole. Black haired, dyed. It was her face. I'm pretty sure it was her.

But she was gone as soon as I blinked.

Yesterday at work, I received a call from Carmel Ridge. Apparently my mother became distressed from one of the newer patients. I don't know, they sedated her. I didn't leave work because there wasn't much I could do anyway. What would I do, stand there and watch? I went later, after work. Dr. Shima said she'd be alright, and that other patient had been moved to an entirely different wing.

You know, someone told me that keeping journal's are therapeutic. They're not when you can't bring yourself to write anything substantial in it.

I was heading over to the library this morning and a kid rushed by and bumped into me. The body language, the way his hands were positioned-- he was going for my wallet. I caught him by the wrist, thieved his ID, gave him a good talking to, and let him go before tossing it back to him. I don't think he'll be doing that again for awhile.

Eames gave me the funniest look today.

I've been so busy lately. Haven't even had time to breathe. It's good though. Good energy. Works out just fine.

I had a girlfriend once who was a dancer. Well, I like dancing.

On another note, what might have happened in North America if the confederacy had won the 'war' between the States? I was watching a documentary on the Civil War last night on the History Channel, and realized I'd never actually thought about it.

Not guilty. Damnit. It goes to show you, every time. Money really is the seat of power.

I think that most of the time I forget that I live alone. I work a lot. I keep myself busy. I have a garden. And you know, in the end, I just really don't think about it. But there's a pause somewhere for an hour or two, and I think, "Oh look. Empty."

I found that green beer tastes exactly like normal beer. The only difference is the apperance, and the idea that it's green. I was hesitant to drink it because you don't naturally drink green things. It's like eating french fries with purple ketchup. You just don't. Well, I do, but that's a different matter entirely.

Green beer? Green coffee! St. Patrick's day. Patron Saint of the Irish. New York City is going to tear around drunk and implode in on itself tonight.

I'll be knocking back a few tonight. It seems like the right thing to do.

If it weren't so windy, I think it wouldn't be as cold. The weather here is intense. People are wearing t-shirts and shorts one day, and then are bundled up in scarves and sweaters the next. The majority of New York wants the weather to pick a season and stick with it.

There is a bug on my kitchen floor. I will name him Kelly. At least he'll have a personality before he dies.