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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
2003-06-05, 2:12 p.m.

an interval of grey;

��������� �����to the tune of 'kissing in the rain' by patrick doyle, from the great expectations soundtrack:

a calm feeling, today. sleeping well the past days, and that is always conducive to a more balanced interval of wakefulness. have applied to some more jobs. really that's all, except for some minor anxiety about the weekend, upcoming, when i head home, and the startling lack of funds i'm finding myself with. there's less than a chance, now, that i will be able to pay the third payment entirely in full, in less than two weeks. i'll pay what i can, but there's nothing i can do about it. i should've gone out and applied to places sooner rather than later, but - that's how it goes.

somewhat bleached silent today, and feeling a peculiar creative need. watching rain, watching the fog roll gray in like a grandmother kneading wool down instead of dough. hearing footsteps running along outside. having thoughts of perturbation, but nothing all that unsettling. i feel at-ease without being fully content, and that's because i have this irritating spasm of muscle in my lower back that refuses to go away. it's the physical signifier of my stress, i know it. financial combined with nutritional combined with my roommate's peculiar living behaviour - he's sometimes here, sometimes not, and it's more the former than the latter the past two nights, and i'm not sure i enjoy it. it makes me continually wonder what living with corey will be like in the fall.

i feel as a broken-record today, just going over the same thought over and over, commonplace and non-sequitur all at the same time. uncomfortable, but because of the chill. hungry, and unable to quit my thoughts. not sure where to go, or what to be, precisely. a dance rehearsal tonight. jason's part of the show i'm in now, which will be a fun dynamic, i'm sure - i hope it's not stifling to my general amiability with the rest of the cast ... it's not quite there yet, but it's burgeoning, and i'm glad for it. i'm just not as wildly open as jason is. it's going to take me a little while, as it usually does with everyone else. i'm sure it'll be fine. it's a dance rehearsal tonight, anyway. we'll see.

i'd like to go do something. i'm hoping this weekend is a good time. still trying to convince someone to go with me. i don't like the long drive on my own. it goes faster with someone else. i wish this back-spasm would go away. and the odd pangs of hunger.

tennis-ball sitting on my desk, and a near-empty bottle of tums. an empty wallet, a dried-up pen, and a tin of altoids. wintergreen and frosty. the window's open all the way - i don't know why - and i'm a little chilly.

time to end.

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�SEH