if i can't keep it at least let me call it by name.
something just fell apart/carried on as usual.
most writing about theatre makes me want to throw things. but i like alan sinfield so far. but i'm not like him. so i really have no business writing this shit.
thinking about vegetables. such old things with such short lives. frail and reliable.
the internet: somebody anonymously tells me she's looked up to me since she was in grade nine. i say i probably think highly of her too. she says she doesn't think i really know who she is, but to have a nice day.
and then there's this. moderately intoxicating.
in my bed: me, a quilt, a flannel sheet, a cotton sheet, books about shakespeare, a cardboard box once sent by my mother and now marked DON'T BOTHER, the arizona bottle i use for everything now (currently empty but for a soggy ginger peach tea bag at the bottm), yellow round-frame sunglasses, very little peanut butter, less than half a cauliflower, many tea biscuits, a hat that i hope is as cool as i think it is, jazz, blueandwhiteandblack earphones, a table knife, a pocket knife (open, perched on the cauliflower), two pillows, a bookmark from my place of summer/fall employment, elizabeth rex audio recording and book (bound in red, quite the sweetest i've ever seen in a way), diary i filled the last page of last night, dirty grey t-shirt inside out, no discernable order.
i love you but.
most writing about theatre makes me want to throw things. but i like alan sinfield so far. but i'm not like him. so i really have no business writing this shit.
thinking about vegetables. such old things with such short lives. frail and reliable.
the internet: somebody anonymously tells me she's looked up to me since she was in grade nine. i say i probably think highly of her too. she says she doesn't think i really know who she is, but to have a nice day.
and then there's this. moderately intoxicating.
in my bed: me, a quilt, a flannel sheet, a cotton sheet, books about shakespeare, a cardboard box once sent by my mother and now marked DON'T BOTHER, the arizona bottle i use for everything now (currently empty but for a soggy ginger peach tea bag at the bottm), yellow round-frame sunglasses, very little peanut butter, less than half a cauliflower, many tea biscuits, a hat that i hope is as cool as i think it is, jazz, blueandwhiteandblack earphones, a table knife, a pocket knife (open, perched on the cauliflower), two pillows, a bookmark from my place of summer/fall employment, elizabeth rex audio recording and book (bound in red, quite the sweetest i've ever seen in a way), diary i filled the last page of last night, dirty grey t-shirt inside out, no discernable order.
i love you but.