March 21, 2007
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repressed, yet remarkably dressed
off, 9-5, 9-5, 9-5, 9-5, 9-5, off…..i would die inside a routined life.
i am so ashamed for catholicism. the idea that such a thing has remained….ugh….i am thankful for your contributions to art and…..well, that’s it. you did nothing for the progression of technology, the spread of literacy, the teachings of a peaceful lovingkindness progenated by Jesus, nothing. you have art. good job.
my constant sighing has once been compared to the ever-elongated breath of the om. can you believe i would let myself fall out of contact with such a one who would describe an action of mine in such a way? i am ashamed of myself for losing him. dear, sweet, curly-locked boy.
have i yet revealed a theme, or what? maybe speaking to my mother has a more dramatic effect on my thoughts than i had imagined….ugh.
what an avid collector of relics i am……good god. to imagine my room without piles upon heaps upon piles of worthless knick-knacks would be to imagine my body without arms. a joke, no?
san fran on friday. well. hopefully i will be outdoors enough to catch the eye of a convincing-looking woman long enough to make a tea-date or something else equally casual. or maybe i will fall in love with an unasuming gay man.
as i recall, i used to dance. A LOT. what happened? oh yes, of course. no doorlock.
sleep….loves.
