introibo v6; greyknive

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

2003-04-20, 10:49 a.m.

to the tune of lassitude

�� to the tune of jason mraz, 'you & i both' -

to the tune of jason in the background breathing heavily, sedated, but looking sort of sad even in dreams, brow furrowed -

to the tune of exhaustion.

i feel rather like a worn-down jukebox these last few days. work accumulates. finals week approaches, and yet i'm not worried about that at all.

the window is masked over with the long red drapery. yesterday, colin & brian came up to visit the room - they're living here next year, supposedly - and a horrible sense of finality set in. lounging down in the quad's back room, watching 'vanilla sky' with john and casey and jill and jason, with only the glow of erin's fish tank, and the setting sun - by the time the movie was over, the only light was from the fish tank. i kept glancing periodically out of the window; seeing the tangle of branches that fills the frame.

'on love, in sadness' - suddenly, the realization that this was the final few weeks of the Quad. this mysterious force in all of our lives for the past year is to be disintegrated, amy off-campus, the other three girls two floors right below me & corey. caught myself laughing slightly.

walking out of the building, eyelids heavy with the feeling of sleep. toward the theater. corey calls to me. 'i'm going to throw this frisbee at you right now.' and i nod, halfway realizing, and then watching it come - catching it, and then hurling it back with the only thought being 'it has to look good, i remember how to play this game, i think i do anyway,' - i want to be more athletic. i need change, i want something new, i'm yearning heliotropic toward the sun, bending like a thirsty plant, aching for the warmth, craving the - sunlight, the temperature, the all-surrounding warmth that encapsulates. i want windows, sunlight, expulsion of cares -

sweet syrupy gladness. i want to play basketball again. i want ... a lot, don't i. oh well. i'm allowed.

'one find' - i believe in love songs, yes i think that they are real, all you have to do is feel - is feel, feel so right -

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�SEH