i feel like i have been talking out all of the things i have been writing... a letter to josh..to bobby burgess...the infamous. hoping only one person... one person that works here...one solitary person would come out and have a cigarette with me. i wish i could tell you but i am to afraid... i wonder if i scare you... with my big grin... when i see you. toothy. happy.

hoping youll stop me. ask me to keep you company...oh.. to keep company with you...

9-01-02

i can hear fire works. i cant see them but i can hear them. either that or we are at war. if so...i shouldnt be sitting outside near our small collection of large buildings...

"old in spirit. not old by any stretch of imagination..." that (if you ask me) is age discrimination. a young female favored over the old male. she didnt get the job thou. he did. (this is from a conversation at cable car of two older women in marketing ) "it would behove me very much if you...blah blah blah..." (that was in an e-mail the loud one got.

i need to stop listening to other peoples conversations... its really not fair. its also not fair that i am here alone...again...when i dont want to be. heidi said "ill call you" and here i am. after having called her twice and she wasnt home...geee...i wonder where she is.

hushed tones.. like their being watched.

listened to. stuck up. i guess i hate marketing people.

(later)

i dunno why i came here.to remind myself that i am lonely? to remind myself the days are getting shorter and the nights are getting colder? it keeps raining here and when its not, its trying to... i think i keep comming here for...AND...for you. for me to smile for the 45 seconds that i walk into the warmth. a familiar face that overcomes adversity. only to be deniyed. igonred. to sit alone outside. to write about aloneness. to write about my trials. what am i getting into?

a neighboring familiar situation. for on lookers and bums. for breezes and hot chocolate. to think of the future and dread it. to watch it drag its feet by me and then look ahead only to notice i have missed so much.

i dunno why i want to be reminded. i dunno why i care so much. i dunno why i am so dry for creativity and i know... but i cant put my finger on it. i dunno why i long to be home. in the comfort of my uncomfortable chair with uncomfortable silence and lack of anything better...