i left the house today feeling beautiful for the first time since the playa. i was driving to the doctor. it was a perfect early fall crisp day. i could only smell the fabric of things as i accellerated, the irridescent backs of leaves looking up from the ground. i was still inside. still on the inside. driving. music the exponent. and crying. but it was so still, where did the sadness come from. from the place that is exhausted, tired of having beautiful moments alone.

i finally found an apartment in manhattan. a perfect location in the east village. a perfect jewish buddhist band manager as my flatmate. a not-so-perfect size on a not-so-quiet street. my dear friend is here from SF and we are going to play all weekend. i predict my heart will hurt even through the fetish party. even through the ranch birthday. even through the beijing rock band. it will hurt through next week and until it lands into the hands of my love.

maybe he's just sleeping.

< yeah >