September 5th, 2002 - 9:57 p.m.

Today was not the greatest.

A merciless building. Cutting into the dull landscape. The edifice cloaked in a sullen gray. Hearts are broken here; left shattered amongst the discarded skin cells, and mingled fibres. Feasted upon daily by the tireless dust mites. A sterile starkness. Misrepresentation commonplace. A distinct misunderstanding of ceremonials. Classes clearly defined. Breeds of the over educated, paid by the under.

Sought the refuge of a sliver of slanted shade. Between the catacombs of clove and tobacco, smoke drifted with the steadiness of a moth on course to light, floated down and into, and out again; a brief quietus found.

Then, a bitter humour: (paraphrased).

"You are a vision, a mirage. Like heaven descended."

"If you insist. You would be lost and not ever find a way out. Besides I despise telephones."

N.

�