Me First
<< 1:43 a.m. - Friday, Dec. 30, 2005 >>
I love the sound of the windshield wipers going. Schlick, schlock, schlick. Makes me feel like I am going somewhere. Makes me feel like I�m traveling through time. No one is out tonight. I drove the old streets I used to walk on everyday after school, and it�s a different place now. At night like this, with the street reflecting the orange lights. It gets me back to an objective part of myself I forget about sometimes. I think I am trying to bring it back to life.

We stood outside Mark�s brick apartment building with the Rain. It was like some entity beside us in this tense conversation. I don�t want to care about you. I want to distance myself from you. I wish I could make it so it didn�t hurt. Right now it doesn�t. Right now I feel calm.

We remain. Ugh. I can�t do this. I�m not even doing anything that would constitute the word �this.� After that dream, after those comments, and my own whispering head, I�m left floating about. No footing. No substance.

favors for favors,
fond but not in love,
charity standing orders,
on Sundays ring road supermarket
(no killing moths or putting boiling water on the ants),
car wash
(also on Sundays),
no longer afraid of the dark or midday shadows
nothing so ridiculously teenage and desperate,
nothing so childish - at a better pace,
slower and more calculated,

Radiohead - Fitter Happier

More to say as usual. Later.