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i. am. so. tired.

April 02, 2004

and i need to be standing on the curb in front of my apartment with all my bags packed and ready to go in less than seven hours. and sleep should come in there somewhere. and i know i will forget something, i know it, brain is fogged and dull.

but new york city. i will be in nyc tomorrow. that seems not quite real, not yet real.

be good this week, while i am away. because it's all out of my hands now, you see. my world will continue to turn without me, and that is a breathless feeling. like these dreams i sometimes have where i am in a moving car but nobody is in the driver's seat so i am trying to drive from the back seat, reaching around, stretching, but i can only reach the pedals or the steering wheel, not both.

do you all still exist when i can't see you? shouldn't you just be suspended there until my return? that would be nice. like little fish suspended there in hard clear plastic. i could breathe the life back into you next sunday.

i am digressing now because i would rather type than pack, but also i think i am onto something here. i'm not sure what it is that makes me feel so worried to leave. maybe that my life will forget about me. the edges will ooze into the space left by my leaving, and maybe in a week there won't be any more room.

silly. going to pack. sleep. fly. live.

be back soon. hold my space for me, will you?