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October 14, 2003
Another year. Shhh. Can you feel it? A kiss blown, but never caught. Waiting, but not with bated breath. Never so frivolous. I'm caught between slate grey and indecision. I'm branching off into new categories of evolution. A distraction. Keep it close at hand. One and a half. Two and a fourth. I'm tired of skipping in circles. Leave the tundra behind. Come down below sea level, the water's just fine. I know you are, but what am I? Keep it inside. Don't shake the bottle. Perhaps you only whistle to stop thinking about things.

I'll see you next year.