2002-04-17 - 11:50 p.m.

i wore a skirt today that makes me feel young (big mix-up of tenses)

i walked down the street on the way home and i thought about how i have a tendency to use pseudo radiocarbon dating to figure out the oldness of my clothes. i mentally note where i acquired each item on my skin and how long i've had them. sometimes i smile to myself because i realize how many things i'm wearing are because of other people. i have laurapants and a sandyshirt and an elijahbag.

and i felt young tonight because i've had this skirt for years. and the little strawberries on the pocket certainly didn't make me feel any older.

i thought about how i almost felt embarrassed at feeling so young, and probably looking it too. and how my room is cluttered (not quite pink frills and rock star cut-outs) in a youthful way. it's a startling illusion that i am still the way i used to be. i am almost ashamed at the notion that perhaps i haven't changed as a person. it comes close to being shame, until i realize clothes and clutterings aren't an exact measure at all of development. those aren't ceteris paribus.

i see a lot of cats when i walk up and down bernard and kimball. i used to make semi-elaborate plans of carrying a can opener and a can of cat food with me (or maybe tuna?) so i could feed these stray cats. never actually did it though. i can usually never get anywhere near these cats anyway. except for once with ren but that was in wicker park and that was a special cat.

sometimes i walk down the street and i think of doing the whole tape recorder thing to .... record things. things that i say. yeah. but it'll probably end up like "hey, i'm recording stuff now. this isn't stuff i'd normally say, so this recording has defeated its own purpose."

and a lot of the time i think of many things that i'd like to write in letters to people. not out loud. i don't think i very much want to do that right now. things out loud never seem to do justice, which is why i seem to be avoiding contact, or in some cases not chasing after it. there's far too much buildup of hope-plaque on the teeth of my anticipations. but i'd like to write letters to people.

i think of the people i no longer have close contact with or have never met in real life or just never really talked to that much. and those are the people i'd write letters to. that's practically everyone, i think. i can think of a certain few that stand out, though.

i don't want to believe that a loss of contact is on purpose. i'd rather believe that people are too afraid of being hurt or are just far too flawed to be able to arrive [to a proper happy ending].