it's 10:50 pm, on August 27, 2005 - scattered and blown.

~

I don't know what to say right now. Everything, right now, seems like it's just on hold; like maybe in a while things will start moving, but until then, just keep yourself occupied.

I went to see Ben Lee again last night. watching him, and then Rufus Wainwright on stage, made me realize - musicians are the kinds of writers that really do transport people to another place. conventional writers don't have that capability.

This is pretty scattered, isn't it?

it feels like another night to go through my stuff and toss things out; to say, this is inconsequential now, let it go. Except for the last few years, really, I haven't been collecting things that can be discarded like that. I haven't been living a life that has enough in it to discard. maybe that's really the final straw - the move into adulthood. you stop giving things significance, so they never are collected.

or maybe I just don't have that much stuff anymore.

~

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what would sith be nostalgic about anyway - November 24, 2015
moving truck dilemma - October 28, 2015
- - July 19, 2015
- - July 01, 2015
bruise - June 29, 2015

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