novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- i am sponge-bot. seeing greg is like going back in time. he looks and feels the same, seven years ago, nine, my hair is longer than he ever knew me to have it and he showed me pictures while george played me a cd full of crank calls, arnold schwarzeneggar's voice from total recall pissing off hooters waitresses. i held onto their sides as we wandered around the only remaining locally-owned video store left in ventura. rented: glitter (no, bianca, i couldn't even finish it) and waking life. curled up in their tiny stucco house filled with pictures of george's son, action figures, gigantic lampshades and gay pornos. felt like home, a different, nonphysical version. felt like an archaiac historian in what felt like home: seven, nine years ago. 12:06 am - 07.06.02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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