November 2, 1999
For the last several weeks I have not been able to think of anything to say to anybody about anything.
Tonight I listen to WFMU, and marvel at the angry rainstorm pelting New York.
Tomorrow I wear a t-shirt to work, leave early, and arrive late. Not in that order. I have next week off, and a strange
desire to make a trip to Sneedville, Tennessee with my camera and $30.
I just subscribed to a magazine (International Piano
Quarterly), and the next day it went out of business.
At present it is 10:40 p.m., and I am wishing that throughout my life I had been more ahead of my time.
I am bored and irritable this night. I hate everything. I hate everything in that way you can start to hate everything when
you have nothing to do with much of anything. Then, when everything comes into your life, your n Be
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