are out there.
14 Jun 2002 / 5:36 p.m.
last night: horrible dream! i dreamt i was in a tattoo parlor. the artist (first she was an anonymous woman, then david bowie as andy warhol - a la basquiat) was finishing a backpiece: a nagel painting. my new friend anna was there. she was making fun of it, and i was trying to defend it. i couldn't, and my mouth sealed shut. i woke up and checked my back in the mirror.
tyler cajoled me into going to a winery tonight with him and jen and some of her friends from work. i cannot even begin to describe how much this is *not* my scene. i considered worming out of it, but decided instead that i would use it as a bargaining chip later.
this afternoon: sun is shining, plants leaves follow it across the sky, the cat is rolling around on her back in a fat patch of light. i am inside listening to american music club ruining the whole thing. not really, but still. it's emotionally self-destructive to listen to that band in anything more than carfully-metered doses. i cannot listen to "western sky" anymore without my eyes tearing up - my fault. i've make it a distillation of every painful breakup and personal tragedy i could think of. it's a sponge; too bad - it's a really great song:
Time for me to go away
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