Ma vie /
I find lately that I don't care enough to actually write in this journal. Today is no exception. I'm just floating through life right now kind of half awake. I have an apartment completely furnished by shit we bought from Target and Wal-Mart; it's without soul.
Somewhere in the fair and flooded city of New Orleans, my old life is sitting stagnant in a puddle of diptheria-infused sewerage. Or maybe it's bone dry.
I haven't listened to music in my house for nearly a month now. When I finish reading a book, I have to go out and buy another one, because I no longer have a bookshelf. And then other times we'll be out and I'll have a moment of wanting to go home and watch a movie I own, only to remember that I no longer own that movie. It's the small things that really start to add up and become too much.
At least there will aways be infrared fields of corn in New England.
I find lately that I don't care enough to actually write in this journal. Today is no exception. I'm just floating through life right now kind of half awake. I have an apartment completely furnished by shit we bought from Target and Wal-Mart; it's without soul.
Somewhere in the fair and flooded city of New Orleans, my old life is sitting stagnant in a puddle of diptheria-infused sewerage. Or maybe it's bone dry.
I haven't listened to music in my house for nearly a month now. When I finish reading a book, I have to go out and buy another one, because I no longer have a bookshelf. And then other times we'll be out and I'll have a moment of wanting to go home and watch a movie I own, only to remember that I no longer own that movie. It's the small things that really start to add up and become too much.
At least there will aways be infrared fields of corn in New England.