I just read Pete Townshend's latest diary entries. Doing such a simple thing shouldn't make my heart pound as fast as it does. It's just the stories of an old rock star about what's going on in his day. Just like anybody else's journal. But for some reason, it's like it's special when you hear certain people chattering on. It's like Pete's got some kind of magic he weaves into every word he produces, in a song or in a simple diary entry. I wouldn't doubt it. Magic in his eyes... makes him see for miles, y'know.

There's some kind of fall festival going on at Camp Rockfish this weekend. I think I'll go. I need something to do, some way to interact with people. And this seems just as well as any other. I could use a nice, long evening walk through the woods, too. I'll just have to bring a flashlight or a glowstick or something, so they can see me (it's from 4 to 9, so it'll be dark by the time I get home). I also threw together a quick costume. I've got handmade cat ears and cat paw-gloves. It's amazing what boredom will lead one to do. So I'll wear those out and call it a costume--though maybe I'll make a tail, too. I dunno. I hope I can do something interesting while I'm there, though, or meet people around my age. What's the betting it'll all be 5-year-olds, moos, and the like, just so the universe can spite me?