hansel

I'm confused in the best kind of ways.

Swervedriver.

It was a Monday, a hot, sweaty beast, irrelevant like the rest of them: our bastard children. I kidnapped each day. Once you looked at them all, stacked up and breeding, they were a long, thin, number of years, spent in perpetuity, chasing the television as it ran for long nights; the din and the distance between our words. I wont claim I knew anything...
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I'm home just in time to freshen up and eat. Oh, sweet nap, where have you gone?

I'm really very excited about the next phase of my life. Tonight was really rad.

The second best part about housesitting is the nigh unlimited access to anothers CD collection. This is especially useful when you've brought your powerbook along.

I'm ready for a nice breakfast. But I don't have anyone to eat with. Le sigh.

Yay. Recording a demo in someone else's house is really quite odd. I'm floating from room to room looking for the best sound. It's all pretty much garbage since I'm using the internal audio on my powerbook. But, hell, it's fun this way.

Wow. The last few days have been a blitz. A flurry of fun. Now, I'm housesitting; which is code for hanging out with Victoria. The environment here is so different than my house. Everything has a proper place, I almost miss living with girls.

My head feels whole. But my stomach has had this weird empty feeling.

What an obscene weekend. Gross self-disclosures between father and son were truncated by the presence of women-folk on the father/son fishing extravaganza. No complaints, as the company was typically jovial. The only issues arising the exchange were your basic blue son/red familial concerns. Topics included: immigration, gay marriage and the media. I mocked their use of the phrase "liberal media," and countered assertions that Tim...
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Ah, yes. The day is over. The weekend has arrived. I don't have to be back to work until Wednesday. One last night in town, then four at the beach. Le sigh.

Petra was a martyr; her timid voice like a stone, round, worn and laden with the most beautiful heaviness, perfectly smooth to the touch, but never soft. Long ago shed embraced it, deep in the caverns of herself. She cherished it most (over all things), touched its center: a rich and creamy texture just beyond the mantle of thought and expression. Petra couldnt help but...
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