"And by/the phone/I live/in fear/sheer chance/will draw/you in/to here."
Damn. Some things can make you feel good, no matter what. That song is one of them. Bass. There is never such a thing as too much bass.
Things...seem to be okay. E.I. has come in, and I figured out that I'm okay til the New Year, or til I find a job, whichever comes first. I spoke to Tyler for a good few hours the other night, which is always good for my mood. We talked alot about SF, and I told him about the 10 minutes after he got on the bus, when I walked down Market Street from the Port. That time is so very real to me, maybe because of the mixture of loss, and this incredible connection to the city. So much of that trip was just...fucked up, but the memories that draw me back are that 10 minutes while I went to get coffee, and the night Mo, Craig, Tyler and I walked through North Beach and the Business section of the city.
Four of us, lying on our back in front of a skyscraper to get a better look at the latex-and-fabric sculptures on top of another building.
There are nights you can subsist on for a long, long time; that make up for many nights sitting in front of the glowing box. That was one of them.
I'm so very in love. And it's so very frightening.

I wrote, for the first time in ages. And I think it's good. That makes me happy too.
I updated the Torrie Page upon Amanda in Indy's insistence. That's a good thing.
I spent half my night getting fonts from Chank. Yummy. M Doughty's Wichita rocks, though I am on this big Soul Coughing kick.
Job Update: Applied to a few places, including TSN-Canada's Sports Network. Will Nicole become a puck bunny again? Only time will tell.

Damn. I'm sorry. Can't help it.

Easy places to get away to.
Easy limbs languid all around you.
All my time is
Dirt on your hands.
Fingers drifting
Down my spine now.

Fall,
Fall,
Fall,
Fall,
Fall,
Fall.

Soundtrack to Mary.

Many minds wandering from room to room.
Many trees slain just to write it to you.
Many rays blinding,
Almost drowning,
Keep this whole shine,
Locked in my room.

Throw back the noise, get another one.
Pour out the rum, I've been drunk enough.
I know the sound that you made and I
Can't seem to unremind myself.

I hope you feel better
later on.
-M Doughty