Thank you Dave for the Fat Little Notebook.


.. [] ..

  That's alright cause the evening was close...
Tho not as close as I would've liked.  At
least we talked about that...

.. [] ..

  :sigh:, so what can I do but wait and see?
Flight 666 to Buffalo cancelled; the red
letters mocking me.  Gonna get home 3 hours
late.  Flight 1876 to Rochester instead --
delayed; prophecy of a bus to Buff onwards
from there.

  Got to Roc. at 11pm .... bus named Golden
Memories lies in wait for US Air Passengers.
Don't pee on a bus in 100 degrees below --
the piss steams and the toilet won't flush.
Now 11:40 on a cold Monday night, leaving her,
coming (in) to no-one.

  Lonliness as REM whispers Up into my head,
heading to my home in the Empty North,
through the tundra.

	.  .  .

    Let's try a haiku
    Dave seems to be good at them
    Perhaps I am too

	.  .  .

  [..] my own advice to you is ringing thru
my head, skipping loudly like a badly scratched
CD:  Just Wait.  All It Takes Is Time.  My own
words sound so empty to me now, and I'm sorry.

  Obviously I have nothing better to tell you;
any advice or any reasoning you could ask for
I would have tested on myself first.

  The bus rides were always my favorites.  In
elementary school I would use my time in transit
to collect my thoughts and let myself wander
through every possible conception.

  Junior high and high school conspicuously
lacked that, and anyway they were more social
times.

  In Buffalo I used to ride the buses from the
dorms to class and back.  Now that's gone, and
it's too cold to walk.

  Remind me to take you on a bus ride when you
visit me.

	.  .  .

    I don't write haikus
    You are reading the last one
    Please go away now

	.  .  .

- Dear Readers:
- I'm not sure where I'm headed.
- I've gotten lost before.
- I've woke up stone drunk, face
    down on the floor.

-> Venerable and depressing words from REM.


2000:01:17:23:30:00-2000:01:18:00:30:00