2001-12-17 || 2:11 p.m.

|| the clothes heap has spoken. nyeeeah. ||

i've been wearing the same shirt for four days. black and white striped. sometimes under and sometimes over always long sleeves covering wrists, stripe and stripe and stripe. this means something. delving past my love for long sleeved stripes, delving past bad habit for falling in love with new articles of clothing and wearing them days and days and days until they become mine, until they smell like me, there is something else going on. there is something comforting in wearing the same clothes over and over. trapping cooled heat. trapping days and nights all of which are going too fast. striped skin. not having to make decisions, complex equations: pants + shirt + sweater (tie)(belt)(shoes) + coat = outfit(AB) i don't know. there is too much goin on to stand at the closet door picking at the pile inventing new combinations. i am at the point where i am sitting in front of the mighty clothes heap willing t-shirts to magically appear. i am casting magic spells for a button down shirt to make its ghostly entrance. i can't find things, lucky socks k t-shirt nice plaid cowboy shirt that kickass teal camisole that no one can see but is a damn hot secret under sweaters (see, at that party on saturday, i could have taken my shirt off while the numbers played and run around with that teally goodness knockin everybody out, yow.)(instead i was outside huddled in cold trying to keep cass from throwing cupcakes like grenades into the apartment, grabbing anonymous asses, demanding someone give him more beer. the brother did not need more beer.). but. i am having a hard time making decisions now. i don't know what to get every body for christmas. i don't know what the hell to do for new years. i don't know how it got to be that every day is filled up. and i am not complaining, man, they are all good things. but it is rather overwhelming. so i am wearing the stripe-ed shirt into 2002 (this is the first time i have written 2002. 2002. two-thousand two. i like the palindromes but. 2002. there is something sinister, don't you think? i hate the even numbers.) because i don't want to come up with new ideas now.

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