May 1999

Well it's April <the cruelest month, stirring memory and desire -- t.s. eliot>. And I've been trying to write using proper capitalization rules and it cramps my style, so i'm going to give up. I hope no one minds, and of course if you do, please kindly kiss off. Kidding. Well i just killed a spider in my room; it was on my bed, my box spring actually, which is on the floor. How's that for yucky, eww, if i had been asleep at this hour -- which i probably should be except i don't have class until 2 tomorrow afternoon -- it would have maybe been crawling all over ME, over my eyelids or perhaps up my nose a ways. Maybe it would have gotten caught in a pool of spit as i slobbered away in drunken dreams of debauchery... Joseph Fiennes and me in a hot tub wearing nothing but... but i digress.

Yes, me and Joseph Fiennes, no, i mean, the spider, struggling, struggling to get out of my nasty spittoli, that damn thing probably would have made it out, too, right? Bastard. Anyone ever seen a spider in the sink or bathtub and simply washed it down the drain, watching those spindly legs move at a thousand times the speed of light as the arachnid struggles to escape the clutches of the speedy flow? Cruel thing to watch -- and crueler to enjoy, dontcha think? But spiders are ugly. I mean, i'm sure there's some gay spider enthusiast out there just waiting to call me on that but I mean, really. spider vs., say, swan. Do we have a reasonable argument there? I don't think so.

I have been slobbering a lot in my sleep lately; i don't know what that's a sign of. Perhaps its a sign that i'm more relaxed in my sleep, and thus free to open my mouth and let it all hang out, slobber and all? That's a thought, though not one that i'm willing to go along with all the way. More likely i'm just age regressing to babyhood in my sleep and in a few months I'll be waking up at 3 am wailing for mommy to come and feed me. Well that's probably not it either, but kind of funny to think about it that way.

I have also been sleeping a lot more this week, probably a sign of depression over my latest copulatory fiasco ("copulatory fiasco" being a personal redundancy) or just depression over life in general, a sense that it is all a fiasco, exemplified and/or amplified by my failure to make love in any meaningful sense. But that's a subject we'll have to revisit another time, for now, i got to get some sleep dears. Take care!


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