2001-10-11 - 7:13 p.m.
i've written so much on my hands and it's all washed off in the end.
and i'm not stopping to read ayn rand or dostoevsky, i'm consuming pleasures light when there's a war going on, no i can't do this can i? it's "not right" like being apolitical or asexual, is that worse or better than ambivalence? must sink deeper why don't i sink deeper (oh but i will).
picking and choosing how much i must hide and how much i must show to mimic balance. holding and holding back such an end
such sweet restraint (makes me smile)
did you know that you're the one thing i'll miss about chicago? (ah, i'm sorry to call you a "thing") certainly there are others(!), and other random kickass shambles across town (windwhipped/goldendaze/graystillness) but i [seem] only to weep for you, this dry "empty" weeping that fills my ribcage, proving how the physical self and the mental self are openly attached. one day when i leave this place, you will come to [arrive] symbolize chicago for me, among true.young love and disgust and robots (yes, and rockets too).
now, why do i hold so much importance in.to you and/or your memory? (and i do wonder what your memories are like, visuals nostalgic and different from mine). the secret is, i know the answer, even as i wrestle with the question night to night.