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5.19.2005

 
So we drove on toward death through the cooling twilight - The Great Gatsby

30 constant milligrams of this cursed prescription speed to keep me from wanting to tear my face of; thanks to Laura C. Flowers for putting it in the dumpster where I would later find it and use it to keep myself sane while going crazy. It always rains on Thursdays this year. When I'm by myself and it rains I am always sadder than before. I'm always sad on Thursdays this year. Spending the whole morning without saying a single word to anyone, staring at girls grasping sea bass, and red clouds, and life's works, and 8,000 different other kinds of art. My voice came out choked and glottal when I finally did use it to utter the 6 words required for me to get my lunch. Reading alone and feeling like someone reading alone in front of a large glass window, like a blurred watercolor person from the outside on an inside of smeared ink. Being a boat on a lake that's come unmoored and spins slowly as it rocks on the cloudy gray afternoon when all the children have gone back to their homes. One sits and thinks of the boat as he stares out the window of his parent's high rise apartment on 6th, making the boat feel lonelier for being desired as a dream. I can remember the mouse that fell in love with the Hibiscus flower and when it died and fell from its stem the mouse wore it as a skirt to dance in because it loved the flower so much. And I always wanted to mouse to dance till it died, wearing the flower, the two of them lost to something more beautiful than they could even imagine. By the time she leaves in a month and a half I will have just fallen in love with her. I'm always ready to love but never ready to stop. She had a dream about us dancing and making toast which is her warmth, and makes me burst just a little to hear her talk about it. Sick last night and to bed early and she stayed on to come in occasionally and kiss me and stroke my hair. I want her to just stay inside me where there is a lake for us and tall trees for shade; we never wear shoes and in large letters on the side of our house it says: eden. The dancing mouse and the hibiscus. The long wooden dock for the little lost boat.

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