are you alive?
Sandy wanted to meet you tonight but you were 'crashing' and then your phone was busy. I hope your paper went ok. I had really wanted to see you tonight but it's probably better that you just sleep through the night. Maybe this weekend some time? I feel kind of crappy but not really for any reason. I thought this might be a good time to try to write some stuff down, so here I am, at the CIT. Where I really want to be is outside somewhere, but it's cold and dark and I don't write well by hand all the time. I feel like I have stuff to do and it's never done like little stuff like calling people and making appointments and stuff. You make fun of me but that stuff is always what I put off and it makes me anxious like a boil on the wall of my abdomen. Speaking of abs, aerobics was cancelled today. Great. I just wanted to go to aerobics and shower and fall asleep, but my plan is foiled. Why am i babbling so long? I need to write but I don't want to write anything real. This is real, but not really real. You know. You're a poet. There's a poetry reading tomorrow at noon somewhere outside. Do you hear about it? They said to come and bring your poetry. I thought of you. Do you have any more lyrics for me, song man? I need some lyrical melancholy, and not the kind you can get from just anyone. You, you see things. I think all truths should be coated with music.