13 february 2000 | back | archive | forward

he came to me in his moment of darkness, and i wanted to wipe away his tears. but all i could give him were my words. words that sounded trited and insincere. words that had no experience. words that seemed empty and meaningless.

i clicked send and wished he saw something in them, at least a tiny glimmer of hope.

lorrie moore, author of self-help and birds of america, which i'm reading and enjoying right now.

my thoughts are darting back and forth, and it's making my head dizzy.

cheap and used CDs, at moby disc: fountains of wayne, utopia hwy, $5.99; lili haydn, lili, $2.99; hayden, everything i long for, $2.99.

"don't do it," -- me, talking to the TV.

fortune cookies never tell me what i want to hear.

say hi:
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