wonders ceasing tied up like a little girl in pyjamas in her blanket

Last night I felt like my mind was dying. Hallucinations kicked in and made for little sleep. I felt my skin was too small and that the raw blue bones in my fingers were protruding. Every time my fingernails tapped against something, it was the bone clicking, sending waves of terrible sensation up into my arms and tongue. When Matthew came over today, we curled up into each other like withered burning leaves and slept.

Today I found out something new about my building. (The cliches keep piling up). I finally confirmed that the one armed man across the hall from the hookers downstairs who stole our corkscrew is a war vet. However, he’s german, a WWII veteran, and he wasn’t on the side of the Allies. I’m not sure how I feel about this, past my relief that such ideals are not automatically contagious. My personal aesthetic says that if naught else, it’s simply another reason to like living here. I think all young people should live in such buildings at some point. The wildlife is colourful and appropriate for late night foreign films.

(It’s atrocious, but I would like to think that sometimes he gets the black uniform out and cries over little eagle shaped medals and a picture of a french girl in the blue light of his telly at three in the morning. You know, just to keep cultural form.)

memery in the pursuit of understanding this audience thing

cuff off


Nicole
Originally uploaded by Foxtongue.

I like that I can take decent pictures with no warning whatsoever. I like that I’ve now proven to myself that I can rig myself a decent fake studio with my table lamps and some mirrors. Nothing as special or nice as The Thought Project, but it’s enough for me. Nicole was talking about how for a period of three years, she had no pictures of herself, and I agreed that it’s a shame. I think it’s a gift to see the changes, to chart the evolution of our outsides. I sent these to her tonight, the whole set. There weren’t very many, as my camera was running out of batteries, but a handful were enough for us. This family takes a picture of themselves every year.

I have jazz playing now and I’m wondering what’s wrong with my messenger and my mail and the ferret is gamboling all over my bed in joy. (I gave him some raspberry gelati). All today I’ve been hunting through my cupboards, trying to find him something to eat, as I’m out of ferret food, and due to the rather staggered nature of guests arriving, I didn’t have an hour to drag him to the shop for his regular pellets. Tomorrow the little creature is the first thing priority. He deserves a walk outside finally, his first in months, and a visit to the park. Winter is over here, the sun shines in the day and the rains have melted away into trees of flower blossom.