.in the paper today tales of war and of waste,
but you turn right over to the tv page. neil finn.

i haven't worked since saturday. and i'm becoming really sad. and no one even asks me how i feel here. it's all over the news but no one is watching. after i get off line, i'm heading over to some foreign cafes to see what non-chinese people are feeling. i need comraderie right now. i am too alone and there is too much time for introspection. my heart hurts. my eyes hurt from pollution and war. my dreams have been vivid and they are all about tron. not the movie. the boy i love. in the dream, he's always so angry at me and then he just gives in and melts into the everything i am to him. in real life, he won't even answer my letters. not even in wartime. he must really love me. i have to believe that or the pain would consume me. i don't want to fuck a basketball player. i don't want a mystery lover. i want home. i want to live in the space where know meets yes and lift means pull and close meets surrender and lost means uncovered. i want kisses to swallow my breathing and surface as worship and barter for baptism. i want hands on my hips to be driving me where i am steering us higher and falling in temples desire i am comfort. i want little to trigger the laughter of jester-like fancy deliverance you steal from my glances. i want to walk these new city streets with you as it becomes new and old in one reflection. you wear my eyes i swear you wise your sight behind my lids i dreamed. your music infection is carrying blood to my brain as i walk in the rhythms of you. i repeat this so often. and i have been getting on random busses with a map in my hand. i am discovering beijing. i am really good at it. i walked along sanlitun last night. i found a tiny white two-story building the size of two rooms. it just said beer here and i followed the stairway up to the red space. one bartender. one manager. one lonely girl saving a seat for you.

my life is a tree falling...

< yeah >