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11 Jun 2002 / 5:10 p.m.
.:  the hell of wrestling water

i would much rather be in the shower right now, but the dishwasher is running. i've checked email and refreshed urls and ran out of options for distraction. i read some swinney, which always makes me pensive.

i've got this rattle in my chest that i just can't shake, and i don't know where it comes from.

i was meditating last night. it was 3am, and ritchie hawtin was in my headphones. i slipped a bit, started dreaming. i pull myself up out of it, literally. sitting up, i am knocked back down again by a rush of something. it was like heavy water, a limb, vaguely menacing. i exhaled, and felt adrenaline going sour in my veins.

meta dropped krishnamurti science on lonliness v. aloneness a few days ago. his timing was good; it gives me something to do.

when the dishes are clean, i can get clean, and go to tyler and jen's place. he's promising vodka, and i'm accepting.

i am cutting safety lines everywhere.

...

back from tyler's. so drunk. stumbled 15 blocks up the street that starts with H that i can't remember, sweating, feeling the humidity draping itself between me and my jeans and tee-shirt. i'm watching headlights shine on plants and flowers and garbage cans and the 14-year-old asian kid that tried to score weed from me and right now i fucking love this place: roads rivers people plants cars and the pink sky.

...

06.13  cleaned up some errors on here that were making me nuts. my grammar goes to shit after psychic kung fu with extradimensional water demons.

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