this past week with david in san diego (which in spanish, by the way, means the inside of a whale's vagina) i have fully realized how much i hate living alone and how unsafe i feel living on the ground floor. i really wish there were bars on my windows. have i been so demented by city living that would prefer that there be bars on my windows. i mean i know im demented because i feel the most comfortable in a doorman building with the door to my apartment unlocked at all times. who does this besides my family? i dont think anyone.
melancolin and the infinite fatness
"here's how i see it: colin speaks fluently the language of life that i aspire to. i stumble along with my pocket dictionary in hand. i wish there were more people in the world who spoke your language so i wouldn't get so rusty at it during these long stretches of colin-less living"
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4.04.2006
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