you are the only person created in pure rhetoric that i might actually consider a friend. in some other possible universe.

 

wrote that to a girl on the internet tonight. for some reason after i sent it it made me sad, not like i regretted sending, just sad about the impossibilites that follow concrete choices. it’s also a silly thing to waste energy on. i know.

this blog was never meant to be like this. i was supposed to advertise baby products.

selling though is a disability of mine. i mean i can’t do it. it takes me out of the running in a way, this annoying insistence on being me all the time. seriously, i would trade.

i’m reading infinite jest (can i get a woot woot) and it’s awesome so far, and not easy to read, but the denoument of each sentence is a small prize, so i’m in it for the long haul. 1007 pages, plus 50 of footnotes and references.

hair dyed black again. i think my need to go from black to orange says something about my state of general flux. not sure what.

a need for some kind of transformation.

jilting the image, a small pinch to back of neck.

had dreams and fantasies, or have, of writing some kind of short novel, or short stories. i am actually, writing, but at a reaaally slow pace.

seattle winter,  what a cocoon you are.

i really need to learn how to type.

also, this post is peripatetic, sorry.

besos retóricas

lea

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