they pulled my hair at charm school.
they
stole my guestbook during
rolecall.
Do: take eyes off road. + February 22. 2002 = 8:08 p.m.
+ Post-dusk. eight o eight. p.m. Night becomes a list of people could see/ things i could do. mmm. Am thinking: staying in dimly lit apt34 by self & dancing to radio station's LittleOutfit music. Last weekend = hrs spent out late. Friday night run into WW2 to rescue Scull & Mark. Drag them to Hugo's. Mark does not like the IndieBoy Attitude. Shakes his head at it. Explain that I never feel as though I fit into any Scene, and thus, a Bar is a Bar. He shakes his head. But, still, we stay 'till the very end. Highlight of evening is when Scull ( in response to boy thinking she could not handle him) throws her arms up and exclaims: I am the Queen of Kink. Im telling you!!! Afterwards, Kelly makes Ben & Peter & I creamy coffee drinks in her second floor apartment. (ooo, have not had kaluha since teenagedom.) She plays us tapes with her voice on them. Funny techno-ish beats over which she sings about roller skating. Charmed. Saturday = Sarah's blue-green margaritas and dancing in her crowded living room. Talked to boy with perfect skin that flushed easily. One boy told story with following title: "Why i address my rent checks to: Landlord, ____ Prison." mmmm. i want to write all of these sentences in cursive. maybe, then, it would not look as bad when I write: o o o, Ben & I saw Crossroads this afternoon. y i k e s. Audience was great. Bursting out in Loud Laughter at nutrasweet moments. Certain moments. His eyes go blue-gray and stray from the street signs and highway lines. Land on mine and it is like: heat rash. whiplash. f e e l flushed. Overwhelmed & feel as though, you know, the four letter word t h i n g exists like a f a c t between us. _
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