6:20 p.m. - 2003-06-05
fossils
open and wild and the wind is like silk and the dust in my pores like clogging the eyes of the soul.
there is nothing in this world that feels like a dream that you can't quite remember, and when the ocean rises and washed away memory it all starts to feel so hollow...
looking at art and looking at the world. my neighbour is a constant source of entertainment and amazement, and his passion for his art is motivating my own latent creativity. i'm becoming softly obsessed with fossils, time, and the more useless applications of technology in my life. it may be that it will become yet another short-lived false start into my own creative heart, but it helps me maintain the illusion of productivity, especially in the face of this tenuous and ultimately empty thing i call a job.
yes, yet another job has gone away, and it seems to be a growing trend this summer - jobs will arise (hydra heads), flourish briefly, and disappear into wherever hell is reserved for failed media dreams, i suppose.
all i know is that i'm facing yet another week of not-working, and apathy and strain conspire to keep me from using that time to my advantage.
