Wednesday, December 17th, 2003 | 1:11
"There is a telephone pole in front of you. Just ease yourself around it."

Nursing my bottle of tequila from 9:15 this morning. Pleasantly wasted by 10. Feeling nappish by onepm. Dozed, listening to Nesrallah play the pianer until disappointingly sober or threeoclock. Picked up the car at four. Nothing has happened since then.
I don't remember what I said to you in the hall this morning. What I meant was, "I fucked up and I miss you."
I'd tell you I still love you but the idea of talking to you has me ABSOLUTELY FUCKING TERRIFIED.
"Thinking about something else."

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