working on saturdays is a huge bummer.

we have to "clean" our office tomorrow. what the hell.

isn't that what we have a "cleaning crew" for?

blech. i work at a bloody sweatshop.

so it's an early eve, but that's ok-- tomorrow night will be grizzly.




tonight we looked at pictures.


old ones.

they reminded me of all kinds of events that have swished around and regurgitated me. exactly the way i am right now.

the pile of vomit that is my life.

but in a good way.

not vomit as in the veg-all and turkey loaf that you may have had for dinner.

vomit as in a big mish mash of detritus that is "all going to the same place."

up and out

..and then there's me.

it's such a weird thing, flipping through pictures.

maybe it's the essence of your life. but it's fuzzy. the tracking is bad. you can't quite make it out. but oh, i remember those pants!

and that pen in his hand- he had the worst handwriting!

random things.

maybe worthless?

maybe imperfect.

maybe perfectly imperfect.

maybe these things remind you of the way you wanted it to be.

maybe they remind you of how it really was.

and of why you are the way you are now.

and where you wanted to go.

and where you find yourself now.

this must be the place.

i look at this picture: wow. i had no idea what it was like to be in love there. or this one- i was so secure, i had never lived 2000 miles from home before. or here. i chastized my sister for smoking that joint. i had no idea that i would find myself a stoner in '98. a coke head in '03. struggling to balance recklessness with normalcy in '04.

maybe you realize you're a hasbeen.

maybeyourealizeyou'rea never was.

maybe you smile to yourself.

this must be the place.