2004-06-07 || 5:59 p.m.

|| least likely to... ||

i am the unwitting u m foot soldier.

today a parcel arrived courtesy of us post from a hard to categorize ghost. there were stickers (hence the foot soldiering) and a short message in pencil and a mixed cd. we have a history: back in the day it was my furtive handing over of mixed tapes of songs that have calcified with the good old days: beat happening and modest mouse and blonde redhead i think, built to spill and the velvet underground and what else? i remember sitting in my yellow coat in a coffee shop in the haight, writing elaborate cassette notes in pastel pencils waiting for him to swing by. i remember staying over at his house in the sunset collecting cat hair on my sweaters from the hiding cat that was to become my meow meow. i remember the most intense exchange of information and life experiences because we were so very very different. i used to walk him to his bus stop after work. he taught me some of the finer points of pool.

if only you could track the path of this envelope. he is in washington, married, a dad, pursuing aspirations and making a name for himself spelled in capital letters. i am in berkeley, sitting on the front porch, trying to picture his face clearly.

if only you could see what it was like and what it's like now. if you look in the envelope and look up real fast you can kind of get the idea. dizzying.

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