2002-01-19 || 9:13 p.m.

|| el cine ||

the habit of perpetually pretending to be starring in a movie serves to bring meaning to meaningless events. this phenomenon has been key to bringing meaning to said events for twenty years. riding in circles on the sky blue bicycle (banana seat, also sky blue, with clouds: this is a phenomenon of girlthings circa 1983. catalog with the shirt with the rainbow that spanned across chest, continuing to sleeves; the puffed sleeve purple mini skirt/top outfit to be worn with side ponytail; the snoopy sno-cone machine; the copies of tales of a fourth-grade nothing and also starring sheila the great; the purple pie man; the get in shape girl jumprope and accompanying cassette tape; the lisa frank unicorn stickers). walking to school through the park inhaling the faint smell of eucalyptus and stale beer (it was that kind of park). and, later: standing at the bus stop to get pelted with rocks arcing across the street from the direction of the boys wearing jean jackets bearing meat puppets patches. sitting too far in front of the bus on the way to school panic-stricken by neverending disorienting fog and the neverending disorienting taunts of thirteen-year olds who single you out because you are too shy to say what time it is when questioned. and, later: sitting on the porch to watch the activities of the library across the street, the patterns of pigeons, the patterns of the homeless people who sleep on said porch when you leave to go inside. making certain faces for the camera while alone and in bed, arm slung naked over blankets, shoulder exposed and cold but it is for the sake of the movie, it is a nice shot of you and sex and morning, it is you defeated or triumphant, we'll leave that up to the interpretation of the audience. and, later: sitting on the orange chair with hands folded in lap addressing the cat, who is quite charming. the audience loves animals. sitting on kitchen floor while on phone, no pants, kneesocks pulled up, cigarette in hand and scarf pulled off chair and wrapped around neck because we need you to be a bit quirky here, people are beginning to lose interest.

notes: perhaps speak with an accent. learn more than two chords so that you can sit at open window and strum in the moonlight, that's always a good scene. start new love affair because at this point of the movie we need something romantic, something heartwarming. we didn't want to say anything but a few people have come in to get their tickets refunded. they're getting impatient. they say they want to be entertained and they've seen all of this before.

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