novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- as odd sounds are lovable molly, tonight is my one night in weeks with the apartment to myself. heather went dancing and selfishly i am hoping she will not be back for another few hours, even though it is already almost two. after living alone for an entire year, now i need to be alone for at least a day or so in my home. and it's so hard to find that with both of us in this small, haunted apartment. she isn't like my friend joanne, who you can be alone with together. she's all-around. but entirely lovable. i don't know what you should do today. perhaps think about what you were like when you were thirteen, because that seems a pivotal age and pivotal things need analyzing or at least recollecting every once in a while. i have been doing that. i've been trying to remember a bunch of things i've never recalled, just lived them and then moved on, not noted to remember. trying to test my memory and see how far it goes, in certain directions. i can remember as far back as before i could walk but i can't remember what happened when i was nine and almost died of some fever. my mother remembers it as if it were some fable. memory is strange. don't you wish you could clean it from time to time, dust off certain things and catalogue them for future reference? not to throw anything away but to draw everything closer. elka an airplane whistle the rose, the lily and the dove got withered a particular sound, fine, light and slightly hoarse - frank o'hara 2:01 am - 06.08.02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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