October 1, 2003
All lights have changed to yellow today. Numb fingertips, high fidelity. Chapped lips. Today's the day where all I want is a cigarette, but I don't smoke. Extremities like ice. At the end of the day, what I really need is a pair of clean socks. Vaseline in a tube. Procrastination, as per usual. "I am in bed for good." Magnetic poetry stuck to the sulfuric yellow refridgerator. Sun through the windows. Squinting in the morning. I hate getting out of the shower in wintertime. No matter how hard you try, you always start to shiver as the water evaporates.