July 8th, 2002 - 12:25 a.m.

Regardez-vous! C'est moi! The syncopated simpleton.

Ah, summer. The world slows down. The clich�: A grinding halt.

Stickiness. Warmth. An unintentional tan.

A purposeful ritual self infliction. But intoxicated.

Have managed to forget everything, without losing a single memory.

Have no idea who I am. Have some idea who you are.

Have no idea where I am. But know where I ought to be.

Have no brains. But could not care less.

N.

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