sometimes it's so hard to separate the hurt from the angry from the justified-mad from the lashing-out-cause-i'm-hurt mad.

so i sit on the mad, waiting for some solution to reveal itself to me. and then of course it doesn't, so i push it way down where i won't have to look at it every day.

what's that interpol line? "I'm sick of spending these lonely nights, training myself not to care"

Who can't identify with that, hey?

*

at the laundromat for the first time in a few years, I put my 20 dollar bill into the change machine and as the change cascaded down I felt an overwhelming sense of glee - as though I'd just hit the jackpot at the casino slot machines.

*

i'm ready to run again. this time i know i can't go anywhere for a year, and i wonder what i'm going to do with this choking urge to flee.

2:44 p.m. - 2005-09-05