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2000-12-15 || 04:13:54 || thursday. (and my funeral) || ack. the powers are against me, breaking up my connection, making my cigarette run out way too fast, sending kids over to this house to distract me. it is raining. michael is in a grumpy mood. we are going to watch a skeery movie. unemployment=walking in the rain to long life with owen and cass, stopping at the corner to find the papercuts' record reviews in the paper, making hot cocoa from bastard ingredients, playing extreme scrabble, stealing swigs of red wine from the bottle on the floor. it's nice. i might move to san diego. i don't feel much like getting in to it now. i don't know if it will happen. it is making me batty. i am being haunted by things i will miss already. the cemetery at the end of piedmont avenue. fenton's. long life lunch specials. planning movies and radio dramas and cassingles. planning books. screenprinting. the foghorn at night when i am lying in bed. my boys. my boys. cold weather and leaves. feeling comfortable dancing in living rooms in the city. knowing the streets that spread out like veins around the bay. oh. i am talking to different people about it, pulling them aside away from noise and distraction, to find out their opinion. to see how they react to my threatening to leave. it's like getting to attend my own funeral. i have always wanted to do that. i used to think it would almost be worth dying to see that. please play the halo benders' 'please let me get what i want'. please put a huge awful photograph of me up on an easel. please have a procession with everyone following the lone accordion player. please play scrabble. smoke some pot. sit in a circle on the carpet and talk mad shit about me. i would like to see that. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |