in rome at the independence day festival:

don't read this! it is boring! there's a part in the book american psycho that always made me laugh, in which patrick bateman's model date is confused by lightening and thinks that it is the flash of an unseen camera. lightening! what is it? how is it spelled? I was driving from the house of some friends an hour ago, and the sky was black and blue, bruised, highly unusual and unusually augural. I think I live across the street from a halfway house, and now people are splashing in the puddles and running in the rain. I think they escaped and I'm wondering if I should call the cops?

I'm watching the rain from my window, and listening to the band next door pratice. they're called the innocents and they fight. and when they're not fighting loudly they are doing some ungodly thing or other with a guitar that is loud. I don't mind, though, because it is nice to feel like my neighbors aren't waiting to die, like my last neighbors, who in one last gesture of despair bought two rottweiler puppies that turned into giant neglected rottweiler dogs that chased me down the street and ripped my pants. I often think of what it is like to be a tree. and I can't spell, unfortunately.

� last entry next entry �