approximately 400ml of organic california grapes, fermented. a potato-laden thai green curry over brown rice. dietary no-no's mixed with His Name is Alive's Raindrop Rainbows EP on repeat.

premature darkness. an oddly lengthy duration of time spent contemplating why it is acceptable to say "fag" but not "cock" on network television. Waiting for Guffman. an impulsive target excursion.

neglect halloween candy. flirt with the urge to buy christopher guest films on dvd. peruse the films. become the perused. leave tar^.g[ay] empty-handed.

another hot shower. another 400ml of organic california grapes, fermented. a choice between two incarnations of Pretty Girls Make Graves: live performing band at the RRRock or audiocassette Smith's recording. opt for the latter.

pay city utility. read some Lagerl�f. dig up VHS copy of Best in Show.

smoke a cigarette upon the terrace. smile at the premature darkness and gusty quietness of the city.

appreciate slippers. revel in duvets. carve out solace in the glow of a blank-canvas television channel. attempt to touch the four corners of the bed with the phalanges of four limbs, simultaneously.

scribble "alone, but not lonely" in today's date on the desktop calendar.
____________________________________

nothing to write home about.
nothing to see here.
nothing at all... cos afterall...
it IS just a river in Egypt. [[and that is all.]]