The Skeleton In Alan Dershowitz's Closet: The Resurrection Of Sue Barlach, His First Wife Dershowitz's First Wife SUE BARLACH: Victim Of Tragic Domestic Abuse,

pot wafting in the window

why i am sleepy? and stupider every day?

plotting for thom yorke bootleg thru lo-fi tech filtered thru soundcloud

just so i can hear it on the train

and think of the silliness of true loves waits, fed on lollypops and crisps

spinning plates amnesiac

the train in lille, the stifling summer heat

and girls my sister's age

and the feeling i was always inferior to her

the knowledge that she is perhaps the only who can out-talk me, overtalk me

other than father

quite impressive

or an n.m. still reeling from a jolly chat

and confused

and that meeting people was easy in 1997 or so

but has gotten harder these days

hence the present tense

and my hate mail in proportion to love mail, the karma, and libra here to keep everything indecisive

and of what soldi said about the stage

not sure if he likes guitar either, despite being very good at it

and of being like a trained monkey on a stage "look at me"

a refreshing breath of nihilist

and of seeing the shakers live--amazing--the bell witch herself--and was greg garing there?

arson

and literally had to get off the phone with the jimi hendrix impersonator anthony aquarius ("you're on a transcendent level" yessss!)

to take the david soldicall at which point

i feel like the genius call-in help desk . . .

for bad as hell guitar players . . .

i mean gosh . . .

maybe kenny vaughan wants to call, kidding . . .