Untitled.
22 October 1998
![[ ]](http://mbpix.mushroom.net/19981022y.png)
soul coughing is prolly performing the first of their sold out concerts in nyc as i type this. i dreamt this morning that i had met someone with a press pass to one of the shows. she let me and a friend who was part er!n and part some television actor come along. the girl who was kinda er!n took photos and i wrote a concert review which ended up in the new york times.
the hard drives for our new servers showed up at li today. i plugged one of them in, but had plans to go and shop for cb radios, so they're still very much unconfigured. that means a long hectic day tomorrow. in a way i feel like just giving up on everything. on li. and see. but not on er!n, who's the other major factor of the equation that is my life right now.
i feel like in away i'm entering the beginning of a new phase in my life. but at the same time i'm holding on to all this baggage. and looking around lost. below bad fluorescent lighting. surrounded by esthetically sculpted, but terribly uncomfortable plastic chairs in reds and oranges and maybe some in green or blue, and large steel framed picture windows looking out onto concrete and blue lights and airplanes that take off and land and take off and land, transporting strangers who bustle past and occasionally catch my eye and smile or look down and bustle on to their next destination, home or a business meeting or a secret tryst, until they blur and their voices blur and become white noise, and yet somewhere at the top of it all single words float by out of context.
the hard drives for our new servers showed up at li today. i plugged one of them in, but had plans to go and shop for cb radios, so they're still very much unconfigured. that means a long hectic day tomorrow. in a way i feel like just giving up on everything. on li. and see. but not on er!n, who's the other major factor of the equation that is my life right now.
i feel like in away i'm entering the beginning of a new phase in my life. but at the same time i'm holding on to all this baggage. and looking around lost. below bad fluorescent lighting. surrounded by esthetically sculpted, but terribly uncomfortable plastic chairs in reds and oranges and maybe some in green or blue, and large steel framed picture windows looking out onto concrete and blue lights and airplanes that take off and land and take off and land, transporting strangers who bustle past and occasionally catch my eye and smile or look down and bustle on to their next destination, home or a business meeting or a secret tryst, until they blur and their voices blur and become white noise, and yet somewhere at the top of it all single words float by out of context.