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2002-02-25 || 5:11 p.m. || paradigm paramour || spectacularly confusing. hearing about you and how you fill up your days from small birds and discarded printouts. i feel very much like a ghost sometimes, hovering about with umbrella and doublebreasted ladycoat, with the pointy toe of my shoe just grazing your ear. you sit in cafes and trade oily fingerprints with dusty bookshelves, you exhale smoke alone and think of blue things. you go on about your timeline, cutting paths, forging connections, and i might be somewhere behind it all, in a lapsed thought or brief projection of memory. but it's funny (and terribly selfish) to think all that goes on without any kind of experiencing on my part. i'm awful sorry about your heart falling on the sidewalk like that. i tried to explain it last night while seated on a porch in berkeley and i couldn't come up with any straightforward conclusions. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |