i think this week will be x-filesian 'lost time' to me by tomorrow morning. excavating memory, why i write, annie dillard, cty, lawn, crabgrass, crabcake, baltimore, jamie lee, cello, gig today, $130, christmas. erdos. erdos of gifts. mm right. i just retreated to room after having just turned down another academic-sexiness conversation (same flava, different star) in favor of sleep and bright room and imminent departure of roommate. so nice of him to understand. that i am weak. like all the rest. and also abandoned my girli-slumber duo (unguents and salves) and AIM and even the snow outside in favor of tabula rasa. oh snow day culture. i am weakening. my soliloquy is on dripmode and it fares sooo much worse outloud. so there. telling uma about failing my finance final even as i try to win her favor. what is my problem? cleaned my room finally, because i had no more excuses. now there's no trace of what i tried to do this week. maybe in my hard drive and in my sonique. the end of a century. le reseau trivial. did connie and i (and our chromosomes) fuck spackenkill over for MIT? me for brown. whatever. like won said, a vacation to think. ravel's la valse the first time i heard it one night on wet grass, i thought, dizzied. watching sonique smear-visualize it in my currency i am just fantasiaed and mclarened into submission. drunk on exhaustion. can i push it? weak.