|
2003-01-13 || 8:17 a.m. || except for the time he pushed his fist through the car door. || i don't know what it was but there was talk of impaling self on chain link fences, running into oncoming traffic, eating glass like rock candy. instead: moving furniture around, cleaning the kitchen in that abrasive therapeutic way, immersing self in board games, not actually getting anything done. i would like to thank the wood sprite that held my hand and kept me in from the ledge yesterday. he is a snappy dresser and keeps my secret smoking habit under wraps. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |