Day 4

what if god were one of us?

excuse me, but exactly how do you know the lyrics to Circus Envy? I'm good at lyrics, but I've been trying to figure out what he's saying in that song since I got the album. I'm beginning to think you're some kind of clairvoyant freak or something. I'm so excited. So far, all the lyrics you've sent me are great.

I tripped three times on the way over here. Didn't fall, just tripped. Maybe I'm the freak. There were these two guys playing chess in the lobby when I came in. They had a timer and had carried all the pieces over in this old cardboard box. It was so cool.

I know I make fun of you about the Rock thing, but I actually really like the CIT late at night. It's so restful, yet there is always enough tension to make me productive. The lighting is just perfect. I put on my most amorphous clothes (such as my huge, bright blue, High School Student Council shirt) and sit and type. Great fun. I always come really late and then am upset when they close down at 4, or 4.30 because by then it's only me and 5 other people and we've reached this cool nirvana like state that comes late at night at the close of paper-writing.

Silly aside. That won't happen tonight because I need to be in bed by two so I can pull off my scene tomorrow with a reasonable amount of enunciation. Anyway, I'd like to see you tomorrow. I should be home after 9. Tomorrow's a super, super long day, so I'll be hungry and tired and in a perfect mood for seeing you. Isn't that just horrible? One of these days, I'll manage to be well-rested and fed before we go out.


ps. Are you really going insane? Insane is dark and treacherous and scary, like a big, rough, red sore on the inside of your mouth that keeps catching on your teeth and threatening to explode pus all over your tongue but never, ever does, just gets bigger and more painful until the skin all around splits and cracks from the pressure but the explosion, the actual catharsis, never comes. Crazy, now that's a whole different story.