I keep running straight into his forearm, huge piece, piece past my senses, skip-a-day slices. Taken to using purple pens--for editing & writing, finally, though not sure if thankfully. I’ve taken to carting packages across streets by my hipbones, brownboxed.
Been listening to Mazzy Star all evening to compensate for all this awful sun. I find it so abrasive. It intrudes. I mean, I’m sorry, but I use words (such as) bereft in regular conversation. This weather just doesn’t go well with my vocabulary. And idle engines bother me when they’re in parked cars. and sometimes, I want a cigarette for no reason; good place to say: so fuck off. please god, let the mist last past the night. I'll set my alarm for luck(!)
I suppose what I'm saying is: I want to fall in love. & not have to justify myself for it. God, I guess I'm pretty angry.
Sorry I had to miss your reading, C. Unfortunately, I'm still fighting this cold. Bastard virii!
Posted by: ben at February 5, 2005 11:56 AMaw, you missed a fantastic night of naughty. But, I know all to well how the body rebels.
see you tonight, maybe.
call me later?
xx'
Posted by: caroline at February 5, 2005 12:40 PMwhy can't I spell?
damn, I'm useless on Saturdays.