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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
2003-04-03, 5:05 a.m.

a deluge of blank polaroids

��������� �����more insomnia. and "family ties" on beside me. jason is turning over restlessly in his bed. the sound of the window fan. thoughts, and a pinprick of headache through my left (right to you) temple. cleaned out the email inbox, took a random walk through the hall, looked at room numbers, and shuffled back here.

things to do as the schoolyear dwindles sharply to a close ; things i'd rather not think about. time rushes along hurriedly, and i think about bustling women in the early 1900s, skirts hoisted, hair tight up in a black bun, hurrying down the sidewalk. it is beginning to snow. this woman's name is Ms. something. nothing trite or obvious like Time, or anything in latin that means time, like chrono or tempus or anything. just .. something plain like Ms. O'clock. no, kidding.

"you see, life is really very simple..." someone said to me tonight.

i went to the gym tonight. walked on the treadmill for a half-hour, alternating between watching the boston redsox play the tampa bay devilrays, and the west wing on the other TV - that was all i did, but i wish i'd done more. my neurosis unfortunately settled in as my two first roommates made an appearance at the other end. but it was good, and i feel good, and i'd like to go back.

reminiscing, old times, nostalgia, papers ripping, ideas flying, thoughts -

i always need a planner for just this time of year.

& radiohead lyrics on the mind as i continue to plod through credence clearwater revival tabs for the guitar which is now tuned and battleaxe-ready :

i need a new notebook.

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�SEH