[11:32 a.m.] : [2004-12-02]

"as for myself, i am always forgetting
what it was I wasn't going to write about
what i wasn't going to say again.
-catherine hunter

yesterday i went into the city for a job interview with macy's in union square. it went well enough. i was in the powell street station and had just bought my ticket for the train ride home and in the middle of a crowd i saw someone i could of sworn i knew years ago.

When the bus-shelter windows and napkin-dispensers surprise with distorted reflections, it's never the someone you're hoping to recognize. When the rent is too high living here between reasons to live, and you can't sleep alone, and your memories groan, and the borders of night start to give. When you can't save cash or conviction; you're broke and you're breaking- So long past, past-due.

it was wierd cause i don't know anyone around here. or atleast no one i used to know. everyone in a one to two thousand mile radius are people i do not know. but never the less... it was the bag that drew my attention, same style as the one they had used, i've only seen one other person with one close to it. same hair color, same build, and a breif glimps in passing showed similar enough features to warrent a second and closer look.

When the one-ways collude with the map that you folded wrong, and the route you abandoned is always the path that you probably should be upon. Stand with your hands in your pockets and stare at the smudge on a newspaper sky, and ask it to rain a new name for everything. Fire every phrase. They don't want to work for us anymore.

so there i am following a hand bag out of the bart station telling myself a) there is no way it could be that person and b) that following someone because i think they look like someone i used to know must be a very unhealthy thing to do. the result of three blocks and multiple glaces at cross walks resulted in an inconclusive id. they where wearing large sunglasses, the shoes however seemed unlike them. (yes i know how odd that is, but oh well it was something that occured to me at the time.)

Dot and Dash our days. Make your face the flag of a semaphore. All you won't show. The boxes you brought here and never unpacked are still patiently waiting to go. So put on those clothes you never grew into, and smile like you mean it for once.

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