It's been a very hard couple of weeks ... months ... year? I'm in trouble again for my tone. Saw a great movie.



It's not so much scary as isolating and sad. And beautiful.

They're probably right. I do have a tone. In some cases, this is a gift, but not in this case. Rafael has said that we should buy a trailer. I saw these photos of a friend from college: in Vermont, at the state fair eating fairfood with her girlfriend, riding the ferris wheel, soaking in hottubs, picking fruit in overalls, flowing and soft armpit hair. You can buy a trailer, but you can't buy all that.

I had a dream about Fletcher and Dustin and Karl. I don't remember what was said but I remember how they smelled. I think they were in town recently. My friends don't visit anymore. I only see them while I'm sleeping.

When I was about eight years old, I wrapped up a butter knife and took it with me to school. The plan was to kill this girl I didn't like. I imagined puncturing though the seat on the school bus, stabbing her from behind. That's a true story.