so i run about a marathon a week. and it's not helping to educate the fascist. or at least stun with adrenaline. dopemine. endorphines. don't try to understand this entry. and don't send me notes. i'm having one of those seemingly impassable realizations about the relationship i have with myself. no. i'm having one of those realizations about the seemingly impassable relationship i have with myself. and it hurts like a crush. but one behind the mirror. my life here is sometimes uneventful and often delightful in a way reminiscent of college life. or a vacation. i can live on less than 40 bucks a week. easily. including almost everything but rent. and nice dinners out. and club entries. and luxuries. but everything else. so delightful in its ease. in its unsophistication. in its lack of pressure. but i need pressure. my only time-sensitive goals are my heart, my body and my music. i need a mother grounding me (as in, go to your room until you finish your [fill in really important life goal here], not anti-static guard). i need a more dire financial situation. no i don't. i need a partner. i need a lot of things i'm not finding in beijing. or in me. one of my best friends here is a canadian indian. she wears coastbuster t-shirts and red and black striped socks under her knee-high converse, high-hi-chucks. she is a total pleasure and a barrel of joy and humor. but beginning to show her my shadows has been...how do i say this...bumming me out. my shadows are thick and sticky and sneak up on me when i'm sleeping. or barely sleeping these days. i am longing, but do not believe in running away. only running to. and i see and hear amazing things every day that i want to write about. hilarious moments to which only i can take you. but i can't i'm paralyzed. and did i mention i need a partner. i hope i really only am one half of an unknown us. it would make so much more sense.

:: but i don't see any angels in the city. i don't hear any holy choirs sing. and if I can't get an angel i can still get a boy. and a boy'd be the next best thing the next best thing to an angel. a boy'd be the next best thing. :: streets of fire: a rock & roll fable

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