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2001-05-17 || 2:19 p.m. || patron saint of polaroid lost souls || dear cleo dawn: i keep taking polaroids to send you but i end up hating them. just upon developing, just upon taking shape they get tucked into the front pocket of my bag and between the pages of my journal and in a green box next to my horse collection in my apartment. today i was sitting on an abandoned staircase and my sunglasses look so goofy and em. my neck is somehow missing and a coupla buttons are unbuttoned (that always happens with this shirt). and my ponytails look like antennae and.. so it has been stashed away. there are so many of those, polaroid lost souls, all hungry and wandering and having to breathe stuffy air inside bags and boxes. whose greatest misfortune was being around that fraction of a second when the light was released and the chemicals were crystalized. i will keep trying, or maybe i'll just draw a picture. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |