May 28th, 2002 - 12:11 a.m.

Sometimes all I want is a fastforward button.

I feel as if I have abandoned myself along a lonely stretch of road. Mixed in with that feeling one gets when finding a piece of lost childhood, but not actually caring; this thing, a relic, last remaining piece of evidence that one was once in a larval stage, and one crumples it nonchalantly, tosses it in the trash.

A sloth like process of understanding that one must fend for oneself. If I had known this, I would have spent my childhood sitting back, and not fighting a thing. Sigh.

�If I had known.� What doomed words, non? What a moot string.

Why is everyone so pugnacious today? Fists flying. Vehemency cakeing on the walls. It shall take forever to remove with this chisel and a damp cloth. It makes my head ache.

N.

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