Untitled.
22 November 1998
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"We whisper it in its existence. And we..."
i had a really hard time getting out of bed this morning. i was completely awake, but i just didn't want to get up. so i rolled over and fell back asleep. this happened three or four times for about 45 minutes each time. as a result my dreams are all kinda blurred together. there was something about being in a pow camp in korea with bret and a bunch of other people. and other things that i can't remember at all now.
yesterday i went out to find the second nearest comic book store, to see if they had any copies of the new cerebus. i got that as well as a couple other things including the first two reprint volumes of larry marder's beanworld, which is something i've been meaning to read for a while. it's beanworld after all. and it's really good. very highly recommended reading.
on the way home i stopped by this huge new music store that was having its grand opening. i've been thinking about buying an acoustic or acoustic/electric guitar. the whole scene was really quite chaotic, but i poked around a little. didn't buy anything, but maybe in a week or two. i can't help spending money, you know.
so today's sunday. my ominous, foreboding, uncomfortable day. although i wasn't feeling it until i finished reading an email from er!n. seems she had one of her once in a blue moon bad days yesterday, and maybe reading the recounting of that fed into my own sunday patterns. i kinda flashed back to sitting in tracy student center at nmh on numerous sunday afternoons, with a certain feeling of the unreality of everything beyond a small circle of my immediate perception. although it's odd, in a way i still feel as if the only physical reality is a couch and a couple of chairs, windows looking out on an illusionary world, stairs behind me leading nowhere. that texas, and the city of austin, and even this apartment are just part of the unfiltered, unformed chaos, the other side of the mists. that the only physical reality is now also separated temporally from me by six years. odd.
i had a really hard time getting out of bed this morning. i was completely awake, but i just didn't want to get up. so i rolled over and fell back asleep. this happened three or four times for about 45 minutes each time. as a result my dreams are all kinda blurred together. there was something about being in a pow camp in korea with bret and a bunch of other people. and other things that i can't remember at all now.
yesterday i went out to find the second nearest comic book store, to see if they had any copies of the new cerebus. i got that as well as a couple other things including the first two reprint volumes of larry marder's beanworld, which is something i've been meaning to read for a while. it's beanworld after all. and it's really good. very highly recommended reading.
on the way home i stopped by this huge new music store that was having its grand opening. i've been thinking about buying an acoustic or acoustic/electric guitar. the whole scene was really quite chaotic, but i poked around a little. didn't buy anything, but maybe in a week or two. i can't help spending money, you know.
so today's sunday. my ominous, foreboding, uncomfortable day. although i wasn't feeling it until i finished reading an email from er!n. seems she had one of her once in a blue moon bad days yesterday, and maybe reading the recounting of that fed into my own sunday patterns. i kinda flashed back to sitting in tracy student center at nmh on numerous sunday afternoons, with a certain feeling of the unreality of everything beyond a small circle of my immediate perception. although it's odd, in a way i still feel as if the only physical reality is a couch and a couple of chairs, windows looking out on an illusionary world, stairs behind me leading nowhere. that texas, and the city of austin, and even this apartment are just part of the unfiltered, unformed chaos, the other side of the mists. that the only physical reality is now also separated temporally from me by six years. odd.