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June 25, 2001
I can't think about you out there, reading me grasping at half-thoughts and shadows of myself. I wonder how many sentences I start with I. Lost in myself, counting.. Micro-managed. How do you micro-manage chaos?

Everything feels more random everyday. I lurch, at times, from hopeful detail to hopeful detail, like each day is the end of another marathon. Then, I sleep for as long as I can, ignoring anything inevitable in favor of the undetermined. Television is only vaguely controlled by the laws of time, as is the radio. Perfect choices to fill the empty space left by time.