Secret Pop

Jan 5, 2004

Tongue-tied and twisted just an earthbound misfit, I.

I never saw so much sky. Blue. Beaming down gold-tinged sunlight. It was cold but not brutal. I did not feel lovely enough to merit a slideshow, but I did not give up entirely on the possibility of prettiness.

There were a great many ugly things to contend with today. By dusk, I was sapped and found myself wondering if I might not benefit from a good cry. I didn't cry after all. I just listened to my old Pink Floyd records and worried about what comes next. Bela Lugosi got his dignity back in the end. That's something.

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