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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
2003-06-30, 1:53 a.m.

seawatersalt&no surprises.

��������� �����pain in the rightside of my head.

attempted to write tonight. came out with something about cherry blossoms. a quick conversation with amy ma. the sunburn stretching the skin on my shoulders, arms and nose.

i am becoming stagnant.

yesterday was the beach. fort williams. in the woody, driving down the roads and turning where told to. finally pulling in. 'is that the atlantic ocean?' jason asked.

'no, it's the pacific.' kristin and mark and asa were also in the car. packed in the back were supplies. along with a foam cooler. because yes, i am that cool. lifoam. we met anthony there. and proceeded to bake our skins in the sun, like apples inside their jackets. went fortcrawling through the old husks of stone bastions there, and finally ended up down on the rockface by the small inlet. determined to prove some semblance of 'masculinity,' i scaled it from near sea-level. finding handholds, etc. kristin comments on it and i laugh, and feel good. quite the show of manliness.

later. after frisbee is called on account of wind, chucking - yes, chucking - a football around with mark, or trying to, anyway, even after, down at the beachside, the small cove-inlet, the water is about fifty degrees and the seaweed tangles around ankles and toes like alien creatures, mewling as the tide sweeps them back out, and flings them back in again. i gather some flat rocks. practice skipping. four was the high score. mark gets that look in his eye.

kristin: 'you're getting that look in your eye.'

mark: 'i want to go in. i'm thinking about it.'

so was i. but there was no way. not being able to swim. no-one had bathing suits. finally. the crux of the moment - wading into the water, quite suddenly, as if it had been cosmically agreed upon, taking off my shirt and running in, submerging entirely - and glorious cold. soaked through, and with no towels to speak of, we let the sun dry us off. mark's tan from his job, and i'm glaringly white. even that couldn't keep me down. despite that mark looked like he belonged there, and i didn't, the overwhelming scent of seawatersalt and seaweed clung to me. i indulged in running up the hill. i'm going to learn to swim by the end of the summer. after a stop at an ice-cream place before returning to campus, the day had progressed into quite the expression of contentment.

after 'bruce almighty' with kristin, we (the two of us) headed to amanda's apartment, for her twenty-first birthday. amanda, who i have not yet spoken of, is one of the co-directors of the silver lining and wrote the script for it. also present was dan, who i think i may have taken a class with in the past, jeb & ryan (the other two -director/choreographer), one of their highschool friends kim (who had a glass eye and took it out for people to see!), then kristin's brothers dave and john (who is also in the show) - it was a small gathering. my first taste of corona, which was ... really very good. eventually, we left, but the mellow atmosphere clung to me like the seawater from earlier in the day, and with no shortage of amazement, we returned back to campus - again -

and slept right through my alarm this morning, for the photo shoot of the show. not too late, though, which was fortunate .. and sunday commenced. i hate sundays. is there anymore of a dragon of a day, curled and reticently gloomy, smoke puffing from nostrils and glaring at whoever dares to approach it? i hate sundays with a passion. maybe if i went to church it would be a better day, i don't know. peter accused me of being the most devout non-christian he knew tonight, due to my sudden and rather unprecedented liking of christian music. switchfoot's got another song out, called 'meant to live' and it's amazing. i think they're quickly going up on my list as incredible music. not to mention discoveries, i.e., 'the samples' and 'jurassic 5' - very mellow background music.

but still a hollow, confused feeling in the pit of my stomach. contemplation and introspection. a job this week, i think. i'm going to tan quite nicely when these burns fade. but it's likely they'll peel, just like everything. and fade.

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�SEH