fake dreadlocks and blurred stars
<< 10:47 p.m. - Wednesday, Jan. 29, 2003 >>
The hair is weird. I don�t know what to do with it. After my fake dreadlocks, (care of Gina) my hair is too blond and too straw like.

Other than that, feeling drained. I suddenly hate being alone with myself. I find I need human companions. I�m not the anti-social loner I thought I was. Playing computer games and watching tv is not nearly as satisfying as it once was. It�s raining, and not even the rain game is a solo game. I can only trudge around in the rain with the dog and watch the light�s reflections on wet pavement. Pick wet leaves and branches and put them in my pockets for later use. Guess I�m quirky that way. Got too many ideas with no plans to put them to use. I pick up old bus transfers and crush Vernor�s� pop cans. Pretend I can imprison beams of light.

I desperately need a camera. So many images I want to capture, connections that only spark for me. I found an old time video camera for only fifty dollars. I plan to get it fixed it up and make cute shaky 50�s style films of my friends and my little world.

She is always in the back of my mind. I could stare at �the hand in the eye in the mouth� picture for an hour and still feel mystified. Its strange, the whole thing. My mouth gets slow and my mind races and in the end nonsense comes out when we talk. And still she tolerates me. I like to imagine that we�re so alike we don�t know what to do with each other. But maybe not.

So I sit feeling antsy but lethargic and not knowing which way to let the energy flow. Chanting men fill my ears and all cares begin to melt away.

It�s beautiful and I want to hold on to all that I can.