seven.

Wednesday, March 10th, 2004
Subject: birds of a feather.
Time: 1:23 am.

are happy together.



Sunday, March 7th, 2004
Subject: thirty-two hours.
Time: 11:39 pm.

fucking amazing.



Wednesday, March 3rd, 2004
Subject: i ate half your antioxidant and i'm sorry.
Time: 12:40 am.

and the man on the street said:

"there are two things wrong with clark wallabees, one is that when it rains they get soaked..."

and i said:

"and secondly, they're too expensive."

i think you are amazing. you know who you are. please don't ever run away. things have changed. and they would be different without you.



Sunday, February 29th, 2004
Subject: new found fondness for.
Time: 11:06 pm.

five frozen goldfish treats (eating four, and sharing one).
removing fat.
charades.
the ministry of alcohol.
the staten island ferry.



Saturday, February 28th, 2004
Subject: i'm not moving from this place.
Time: 10:16 pm.

it has been a very long time in having a person, place, or thing to call my own. i've always just been on the periphery of sociality, environment, and personal thought. but, i have this city. it is my home. and i don't want to leave. it has offered to me everything that i've always wanted. it is non-discriminatory of my tastes. it offers me plenty of street lights that are capable of burning out while walking under them. it makes me feel less lonely.

on another note, i met some really great people yesterday.



Friday, February 27th, 2004
Subject: i'm going to tell you a secret.
Time: 11:07 am.

i sang usher outloud in duane reade.

i've been there, done it, humped around.
after all that - this is what i found
nobody wants to be alone
if you're touched by the words in this song
then baby...

HAHAHA KEKEKEKEKEKE HAHAHAHA.

i really do like that song in some twisted way.

(((((



Thursday, February 26th, 2004
Subject: i have been busy.
Time: 1:22 pm.

really great things have been happening.

some (five, i play by the rules!) simple things.

five.
peanut butter.

four.
street light lamp posts either flicking from off to on or on to off when i walk under them.

three.
good eyebrow tweezing session.

two.
being responsible for laughter.

one.
books for less than a quarter.



Wednesday, February 25th, 2004
Subject: i just woke up typos.
Time: 10:29 am.

there was a lot of nudity in my dreams.

i was, partially. and i was in my old room on kingsboro. curtain-less windows. whatever i was doing wasn't p.g. and then i noticed i was being spied upon and i did a stop drop and roll to the safety of my dirty pink itchy bedroom carpeted floor.

following this sequence, as i remember, i found myself in my driveway on kingsboro with dave chapelle. my grandfather and his wench wife were dragging around this little old man who happened to be crazy, without family, aimless, and perverted. connie wanted to pawn him off on dave and i and i remember telling her to shove off. as the story goes, connie had met him one night, at the grocery, or at church, somewhere without my grandfather. thinking the little old man had money she did her thing with him and he became attached and, well, soon following, crazy. i remember connie trying to give my mother and i some whack story (i remember calling her soon as i told connie to get a grip so we could compare connie lies). i remember that i referred to connie as a cunt and dave was surprised at my language. in this dream we were dating. or maybe it was just a sexual thing. i remember him touching my back and i leaning in on his suede leather coat.

and then we, dave and i, are in this strange cafeteria hall train station. somewhat like a lodge next to some tracks. the room was separated, men from women, by the alignment of the tables. jewish men, from jewish woman. facing the tracks i see the women on the left, the men on the right. the women's cafeteria tables ran parallel to the tracks. the men's tables were formated in angles. dave was naked, and also whiter in skin shade, during this segment. he was doing penis tricks for the ladies and taunting the men with racial jokes.

i left the room several times only to find myself in dave's kitchen (he lived in this lodge?) for water. the filtering station in his brita was broken and could only hold about a half of a cup of water at a time without the station sinking and disrupting its purpose--to filter water. in the dream i drank a lot of water. i remember his computer was in the kitchen and i was checking up on his instant messenger slash my space sort of text vehicle. checking who was on his list, if i was listed. and i remember the machine freezing. i remember the paranoia i felt when it would freeze. i remember it freezing and fixing itself one time and when i turned back to the screen to continue lurking dave's files he had a picture of adam on his buddy list. the picture with the bat hat. and i wondered how they knew each other.

i woke when a bald young man in a tight white t-shirt (who happened to be sitting at the head of one of the female tables) asked a question regarding a train that happened to steam by, and somewhere in his vernacular her used the word nig.



Subject: a polite decline. from two resources.
Time: 2:17 am.

i'm so tired. my eyes are itchy.

and now upon an e-mail, an academic e-mail, i am sad.



Monday, February 23rd, 2004
Subject: find this. and send it. and i will love you forever.
Time: 2:07 pm.
Mood: ran three miles, want to die.

half baked™ carb karma ice cream pints.



Sunday, February 22nd, 2004
Time: 10:00 pm.

my life is whirling by, faster and more dizzying than a dervish. and at age twenty-four i’m not exactly where i’d like to be, but i feel like i’m heading in the right direction. my fear exists, though, in this complacency that has consumed my life for the last three years: settling into something where i don’t feel like i belong. rooting myself, comfortably, in the idea that my life will eventually propel itself forward feverishly and successfully some time very soon, and that the only thing i need to hold truth in is time. patience. but aren’t i brimful of patience. has it not been stewing for years. will something break. what does it take. am i going about it wrong. these statements swirl in my head usually for a good hour before i fall asleep. and my teeth grind rhythmically with the cerebral elliptical orbiting of these dissatisfying thoughts.

one thing i’m certain of, which scares the knickers off of me, is that i’m afraid of opportunism. and i don’t know why.

also, i really need to get some headshots done. no fucking around erica. get it done this month. and please, for the love of big baby jesus erica, do some sit ups.



Subject: coffee, beer, and a lorna doone.
Time: 2:32 am.

plosives in my lateralization.

it took two hours to get home. now listen, i have a lot of love in this little heart, but i hate the four train.

i almost passed out in the intersection of second and second. but i am resilient, because i eat a lot of rubber bands.

tonight was perfect.



Saturday, February 21st, 2004
Subject: i find it hard to tell you, i find it hard to take.
Time: 9:27 am.

if it is going to rain all day you will find me in my bed.



Friday, February 20th, 2004
Subject: bring your toothbrush.
Time: 8:57 pm.

i've heard from one and i'm moving on.

also, i have a bartending interview in park slope tomorrow. pray that i do not come across as slattern in posture and articulation.

paul. it's now a question of trust and truth. and though i miss the work i do not miss the abuse of my kindness; and the the clumps of hair that would find themselves in shower drains and in the sweaty palms of my hands; and the dirty crack spoons.

this space is slowly filling up.

you should be here. i have a seat for you on my couch, next to me.



Time: 8:01 am.

i was slightly inebriated last night. i came home to an empty house. ate some cookies. and tried to take a late night nap on a very cat-haired couch. but my body was irresolute. and i thought about someone for several hours. maybe this is why i had a hard time sleeping.

my mind just sort of whirls with everything that is going on in my life. and i seem to get more heady when intoxicated. which really clarifies nothing. but it gives me another (altered) perspective on things.

my thoughts in the last few days:

i thought about what it would be like to hit someone, well really what it would be like to set someone's chin on fire (in a mugging scenario).

i thought about how reserved i really am. i need something to shake it up. and i think i know how.

i thought a lot about pinning someone up against the wall, just to smooch.

i thought about whether or not i should have someone edit my play.



Thursday, February 19th, 2004
Time: 2:02 pm.

i went for a walk around midnight last night. to get some air. i trapped myself in my apartment for most of the day. it was something i needed to do. i didn't get too far. as far as key food for half and half and fake-sugar chocolate ice cream. upon walking home i caught myself talking to myself out loud. i don't know how many feet, yards, or blocks i traveled muttering to myself. this is a normal thing for me. but usually it stays in my head, it never projects itself into something audible. though there has been times where i've mouthed my inner monologue, the sounds of only exhaling and the sticky snappy smacking of my lips when they are over-saturated.

i am forcing myself not to clean the apartment, which is proving to be a difficult task at the moment. i need to let things go once in awhile, and i need to forget about order and what other people think of my order or the lack there of.

i like who i am. and i should be happy with that. then why is it i feel so sad.



Wednesday, February 18th, 2004
Subject: wtf.
Time: 10:05 pm.

i hate you life of agony for not playing any fucking shows in your own neighborhood.

jerks.

keith (((((



Time: 4:46 pm.
Music: houston street.

i now want the nike air force one sneakers in black with the gum bottom, gold writing, and the velcro ankle thing. style number 306351- 001, to be more specific.

that is all.



Tuesday, February 17th, 2004
Subject: i don't think we are friends.
Time: 2:54 pm.
Music: npr.

no, not you, or you, yeah you, but you never check this thing, no matter.

i dislike when my momentum falls to the wayside. i'll blame cross-walk lights and drivers that turn corners without yielding to pedestrians.



Monday, February 16th, 2004
Subject: these fucks.
Time: 12:15 pm.
Mood: /\/\/\/\/\.
Music: built to spill.

ransacked my bodega of my ice cream. i waited four years for things to finally come around, and no-carbohydrate diet zealots are usurping from me the only thing i truly love--chocolate fucking ice cream.