2001:September:22
2001
I'm wearing a pink heavy drapy polyester, stretch hemmed with a dull salmon colored sleveless vertically striped patterned snug fitting shirt.
I'm listening to the cd on random again. I'm hello. Some raw song came on... I figured out it was PJ Harvey's newest and un-randomed it.
I'm feeling so connecty - like I'd love to open my whole soul to a fresh, crushy person. I think this might be a reason to move to LA. It's much more interesting to imagine the potential of meeting something amazing in LA than Wilmington. Here, you walk around listening to soul searing music on your headphones and you run into old ladies or the poor. There's a very very very slimmer chance that you'll serendipty into a new person and get to imagine a person again.
I thought new york would be like that (sorry to say ANYTHING disparaging about pained SYMBOLIC MONUMENT NYC), but it was disappointing. Sincerely it could have happened, but I think part of meeting a fellow lifemate friend is living in a place that is pleasing and hormoneous to you (not New York in the vast vast majority of people's cases). I.E. You're not going to meet a soulmate unless you're in a place that your soul finds orgasmically pleasing (I just realized such an aessthetic pleasure could be possible until this new home I'm living in).
It's been such a long time since I've met a new person who might be something fascinating.
Blar, blar.
A lot of this is because PJ is seemingly singing about friendship of an extradoinary kind and half of it is because Mark is working again today.
