they pulled my hair at charm school.
they
stole my guestbook during
rolecall.
what a drag it is, + October 11. 2005 = 10:10 a.m.
Early a.m. is crowded F train to work. The pole is sticky and people keep dropping newspapers and personal items on the floor and then slipping as they bend down to retrieve them. Outside, I follow a man smoking a pipe which is perfect smell to accompany this endless gray. Somewhere along the way I turned into Positively 4th Street. prev/next
class
notes, file of pom-pom
ghosts!
