if time is the diamond, well, alright

I can't reckon for magic any more, though. Science is prominent.

Joe told me he got into an argument the other day because he doesn't believe in concepts. They don't actually exsist.

Some people say things like consciousness don't exist.

Philosophically, and scientifically speaking.

Perhaps in metaphor it works, but how can theory be built on metaphor?

And for this reason I cannot write this paper because I enjoy both hard science and poetry and now I'm begging to combine them.

Both sides doubt my efforts, but encourage me to try, and to hit the brick wall which they see as imminent.

I've tried to call people today and it's not working.

Palmer: disconnected

Zach: disconnected

Rose: message

Tene: message

Simon: talked to his mother

Mark: disconnected

Stockman: message

Joy: message

Now, two of those people recently got married, which explains it. The messages are going to be surprises for all the recipients. Simon? that was wierd:

He's a Greek fellow I dated for about a month in the spring of '02 and despite how wonderful he was (is) I just didn't feel anything towards him. Apparently he felt differently, because a year and a half later when I call his mother to find his number she about shits herself telling me she prays for me and they were just talking about me recently. Ugh. I haven't talked to him since last Christmas so I thought enough time had gone by, but I guess not. He went off to hike the AT and I went to NY. Then he moved to GA and I started at IU. He's a lovely young man, really. Very attractive and strong and talented and smart. Ju jitsu. Spiritual and tender. We put together LEGOS on our 4th date. He took me to Waffle House on Valentine's Day.

I never kissed him.

I don't know why. But I do feel fine calling him from time to time to see how he's doing.

Anyway. Today's unproductivity level is almost exceeding yesterday's, so now I'm going to shower because I'm sure I smell after all this laziness.

Joe and I are going to a dinner party tonight at my friend Heather's house. I'm quite certain that Heather and I are becoming really good friends. Namely because she's starting to get into good music. She'll call and be like, "oh my! I just love this band!! have you ever heard of Death Cab for Cutie?"

Joe and I didn't see each other yesterday, since he went rock climbing and then out with the fellas, but he's called over and over again. I love how much he calls.

I saw Buffalo 66 last night.

Scan? Are you reading this? Do you hear me? Someone page scanzilla for me and let him know that out here in Indiana he still gets mad cool points. He's the only person I know who's seen that movie. Though I'd never seen it, I do listen to the soundtrack, and I do love Vincent Gallo. I love him more now. Vincent and Scan both.

Each of you must see Buffalo 66.

And then you will understand how - and why - the Evil Robot Commander keeps us all in submission. *I'm listening to the Postal Service and The Velvet Underground right now.*

It's possible, what ever it is. It all feels possible. There's more than a good chance for anything. The desires in your heart come from the probability of it coming true. The fact that you want it means it is something to want. Those deep, unspoken desires, I mean. The desires that seem like they can never become concrete: those are exactly the desires that do become concrete. Funny thing is: you're the only one tht can stand in the way of those things coming true. You are your only obstacle. So stay out of your own way, and let yourself realize all the possibilities.

Now, go and love the moon, eclipsed.