Wednesday, November 12, 2008
july 26th, 2005
that black slit is where your money goes in. i'm faced with it now. and a woman is walking stiffly. is she scared? do not make assumptions. my arm. the beautiful hum of the electricity in the air, boys in situations you like, dumb screen savers, desk carvings and ribbon being dropped over things. if i were to break open the glass to that fire hose what on this floor would i spray first? wet books. that's hot. the clock (fake) is eternally set on 7. one of the best things in the world is when your spine falls into place. writing letters is also. its charming when people say obvious things. i love desk drawings. penises and stars and initials plus initials, and general scrapings. people are funny. what people think should be written on desks is funny. for some reason, every patron i've talked to today has had some sort of accent. they sound so deliberate in their speech. perhaps cause i'm not used to it. but it's still quite nice. sometimes just listening is so calming. i wanna do that real bad right now. just listen to one voice. right before i left work for about 9 minutes i hid on the top floor and rested my head face down on this hard, wooden desk, and just smelled the wood. it smelled good. (like people's arms and wood). mostly people's arms. i love that smell.