Untitled.
13 August 1998
![[ ]](http://mbpix.mushroom.net/19980813y.png)
over the course of a day there's a million things that i feel like i should be writing about, but of course then they fade away, back to wherever it is ideas come from in the first place. i did vaguely hint at a topic yesterday though, so i s'pose i'll get into that.
i think that it really came to me while i was hanging out and not talking with erin the other night. that i put all this stuff up here, and i know people read it, but i don't get a whole lot of feedback from it. and then of course, i immediately started finding exceptions. my mom paged me with an interpretation of one of my dreams while i was on the road. ned made some lewd comment about one of my entries. sonali pointed out that lincoln is not "fucking broken".
but, i guess what i was noticing, was that i really vocalize what's going on inside sometimes, and being the quiet, introverted person i am, that's something new for me, but it hasn't really seemed to affect my life at all. although, swinging back again, i guess my poetry has always been a way of really opening up.
anyway, while i was thinking all of this, erin was staring probably just in the direction of my wrist, but which seemed to me to be my wrist, the subject of a whole bunch of stuff on here last week. and so i'm thinking to myself, is she thinking about all that stuff i wrote? did it even cross her mind? is she seeing my wrist at all, or just in some other world completely? i wondered the same kinda things about what sonali was thinking when i was at her place. she did threaten to punch me or something, and i was being difficult and didn't stop doing whatever it was i was doing, and she almost acknowledged that i was really just trying to provoke some sort of physical contact. which of course i was.
this has all been a whole lot less interesting than it was in my head. i'm going to do some work, and maybe i'll have something else to say before i go home tonight.
i think that it really came to me while i was hanging out and not talking with erin the other night. that i put all this stuff up here, and i know people read it, but i don't get a whole lot of feedback from it. and then of course, i immediately started finding exceptions. my mom paged me with an interpretation of one of my dreams while i was on the road. ned made some lewd comment about one of my entries. sonali pointed out that lincoln is not "fucking broken".
but, i guess what i was noticing, was that i really vocalize what's going on inside sometimes, and being the quiet, introverted person i am, that's something new for me, but it hasn't really seemed to affect my life at all. although, swinging back again, i guess my poetry has always been a way of really opening up.
anyway, while i was thinking all of this, erin was staring probably just in the direction of my wrist, but which seemed to me to be my wrist, the subject of a whole bunch of stuff on here last week. and so i'm thinking to myself, is she thinking about all that stuff i wrote? did it even cross her mind? is she seeing my wrist at all, or just in some other world completely? i wondered the same kinda things about what sonali was thinking when i was at her place. she did threaten to punch me or something, and i was being difficult and didn't stop doing whatever it was i was doing, and she almost acknowledged that i was really just trying to provoke some sort of physical contact. which of course i was.
this has all been a whole lot less interesting than it was in my head. i'm going to do some work, and maybe i'll have something else to say before i go home tonight.