A Black Feather, A poison pen...

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io saturnalia

the slow half day crawls to its emd just ahead of the 3 day weekend.


though i've still got a small surplus remaining, money will be tight for the next couple of paychecks whilst i come up with a budget plan to try and rebuild my little war chest-slash-rainy-day fund.


Note to self: next time, resist the urge to completely lose the beard, fat-man. (swear to jesus, i look 20 lbs fatter without my beard...it sucks)


I haven't seen or spoken to her in just over 10 years (since that last time we hung out together right after my mom's funeral) but yesterday was Elisa's birthday.


testament to how fucked in the head i may well be, there are still days wnen i catch myself missing her most of all, nearly 20 years removed from when i first knew i was in love with her.


Of course, i remember her much more fondly than some i've been at least peripherally involved with (especially the most recent) because while the deepest part of our friendship did end up dissolving over it, Elisa was at least kind enough not to keep me on a string for convenient mind-fuckings


I am a satyr in a pen and i don't enjoy it.

3:45 p.m. - 2005-12-23

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a jump to the left - a step to teh right