October 22, 2003
Tomorrow will be better, I said. You told me that listening is just as good as sleeping, but I could never decide if I believed you or not. Standing at the end of the driveway. A movie pose. Better than the last time. It's always worse in retrospect. I am squeakily superficial. I am beside your harsh honesty. This could become a good thing, but then I think again. You're waiting on the street. I remember I dreamed of that elevator. Someday. I'll dream about it again tonight. You're listening in on my wavelengths. What are we getting ourselves into?