thought

dirt on the floor
July 05, 2004

The story to this point is long, unnecessarily verbose and possibly unpleasant. I will just start with recent events.

Thursday night I did not want to spend time by myself lest my overactive brain torture me into a corner. I was going to take a friend to the airport, but I ended up picking pieces of plant matter and sweeping up dirt on the floor of his room. It had nothing to do with me, but whatever it was, it was violent. And I was glad to be able to help... to use my emergency brain and practical nature... usually hidden underneath layers of self-absorption and words.

The weekend involved awesome Italian cooking, dodging cops that were born in the 80s. meat wallets and being with friends.

Today I made a webpage. Dunno what happens from here.