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/ november is a month of ghosts

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

2003-03-03, 7:48 a.m.

jongleur

��������� �����killing time in the earlyhours of the morning, realising there's many things i've forgotten to do in the upcoming hours, realising that last night i fell asleep at ten-thirty rather than three like usual, and that i found myself in decidedly odd places yesterday, like potholes in this road of seeming contentment ...

the sun peers through a crack in the blase curtains, making the world outside seem like it has been blasted & withered away into yellows and whites. it'd be like stepping outside into a liquefied egg. staring, now, with that song from les miserables in my head ... turning, turning, turning turning turning.

i'm reading "the magus" again and constantly thinking of rachel j. "There comes a time in each life like a point of fulcrum. At that time you must accept yourself. It is not any more what you will become. It is what you are and always will be. You are too young to know this. You are still becoming. Not being."

the objective of yesterday was to be fully occupied, with no down-time, no paused moments to think about anything. waking up from the dark surge of nightmare had thrown me for a serious loop. the fact that, financially, right now, i'm in a bit of a bad spot. and it hampers my ability to get out and accomplish things. cabin fever sets in, ideas start jaunting through my head ...

and jason's alarm goes off.

the day begins.

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�SEH