01.22.02 - 10:13

i am reading too many books at once. i am doing absolutely nothing and too much, sometimes at the same time. i am spinning my wheels and going nowhere. there is a lot of action in the world and i am standing outside of it but that's fine right now. my sheets are twisted and elizabeth wurtzel's written another book and no one's going to like it and i'm not going to read it. there is an itch i can't scratch. i am waiting for something (someone?). i don't know if there was something else i should have done that night but what's done is done, right, so what does it matter. i am not in a bad mood, but i will not use a typewriter to complete this form. i have received a new e-mail message from Kill Taxes. i am listening to don henley. i am connected via parallel cable.

long dark night. three lava lamps in a room. a hundred candles and the a/c on high. stereo turned up and tv turned down, quiet pictures flashing pretty colors. furby in a corner sleeping. robot dog turned off and lying quietly on its back, four metal feet up in the air. we're playing trivial pursuit and sipping red wine out of coffee mugs. the telephone rings and we let the machine get it. someone knocks and we let the pizza guy in. someone writes a check and we let the pizza guy out. we eat pizza and win pie pieces and get them all greasy. we don't care. someone gets up. someone sits down. someone answers a question wrong and someone laughs. we're listening to ben harper, the quiet ben harper rather than the incendiary up-tempo ben harper (well, how incendiary does it really get?) the telephone rings and we let the machine get it. the dark is outside of us. someone wins. hey. i miss you.

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