00:45

Things I can only tell you when you're not here.

moral of the day. figure out what you want. figure out what I want.

that's half the battle. the non-violent kind.

I was writing to an imaginary audience before, now I know there's at least one reader. besides me. and the future me.

worked today. then tried to do some layouts. but ended up half-working half talking. half-showing my past work. previous portfolio. things that I had done already and were of no interest to me except to see some reaction from dah-yee looking at it.

hmm. mouth is healing along. had a burrito when I should've had soup. hale'n'hearty would've been heavenly. but I wasn't thinking.

spent the day uploading data that could've been done in a quarter of the time had they wanted to. but that's what they pay me for and there are other things to worry about.

feeling for today: tired. but that's always. it wasn't hard to get up. so that was okay. it's barely 1am, and I'm tired.

there's a long list of things to do.

thought about how this'd be a great way for me to keep in touch with you if you had time to read it. but chances are that I'm overthinking things and you're busy hanging out with your roomates and this, that, and the other thing. yes. the other thing.

so we have to talk again. which reminds me of breaking up with someone with a post-it. sex and the city, right?

but this isn't HBO. we're not breaking up, and I'm whispering things into a hole like in 2046.

whispering is metaphorically, of course.

I've been yearning for some digital device where I can store my life. write long and short forms. look things up online. and if I had this magical device that had a full size keyboard yet fit into my front pocket, life would be bliss.

everything would be alright. red-carpet unfurls as I float by, and flower petals rise from the subway track.

I'd have everything in one place. schedules, to-dos. brilliant ideas. everything.

my laptop is too heavy. too big. too expensive to whip out in the middle of rush hour to write down, "email frank" or better yet. look for that text that I need to send him.

except there's no wi-fi on the N, or R. nor any other train for that matter.

if I want a new phone. 2-year jail sentence comes standard. why do you need to lock me up when I just want some form of imaginary freedom? let it sync and life is good.

eighty a month is crazy enough, and I keep on giving it to you. that's fine. no. I don't think it'd work, I need me full size keyboard to think.