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/ transformations // extremes

a grey knive lurking on the corner of the bathroom counter, incongruously balanced on the edge - just about to fall - the light of day leaked into the room like dish detergent being squeezed gently out of a bottle, and over in the corner, rats rustled in a paper bag. he walked into the room to the sound of the ceiling fan slowly misunderstood. his left sneaker squeaked slightly. paper in his pocket crumpled up and a blue crayon behind one ear. a muddy cigarette in one hand and no lighter. his eyes are silently stained-glass windows inside a church with no congregation, waiting for the hollow bellpulls - the doorbell of the Almighty. he takes out a sharpie and marks an x on the wall. moments later a fly buzzes fatly in and lands on the                                             spot, preening and humming to itself. below, at the baseboard, an ant trundles in. he looks at the mirror. he looks away. outside, a bird hits the window, and all things still, in hushed                                          mourning. an ignorant cricket looses a selfish mating call and
2003-08-05, 4:32 a.m.

a bit calmer -

               ye gods. you can read the last entry if you want to. it's full of uncompromising drivel & annoyance.

tonight reminds me of a low train whistle and rattling boxcars. drifting piano music right now. radiohead covers by christopher o'riley, and the dim light from the outdoors leaking in through the blinds. a terrible & perilous desire, suddenly, but a good sort of feeling, like lemonade or icecream. something as white-orange-yellow swirl as that, candy-coloured and smiles. carnival nights and crazy wild hooting laughter.

must be the early morning heartburn kicking in. divisive emotions & a murmuring heart. a terrible and draining fear of realising i'm horribly unattractive. vanity - a worser sin i've known, i'm sure, but this seems to be my karmic counterpart. insecurity & vanity. i need to cultivate some vices. and a bottle of tums, that'd be good right around now. and to pick up the guitar or the piano seriously. i need a second artistic outlet other than theatre. art or music. something. something active, too, maybe. to round it all out.

wishing i could enter in here with (truthful and flagrant "i love my friends" entries) and finding that i can't allow myself to. i do love my friends. but i find myself troubled. never swept along with them in riotous bursts of laughter like tara & jason do. wishing i did have that - perhaps in girlfriend form, and that's why this percolating, confusing loneliness.

something. i seek tums now. and a good book.

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©SEH