\\sittin' up in attic\\
- as i returned to my room at 11:45, i found my ceiling fan rattling nervously ...or maybe i was just more prone to notice it's creakiness at this hour because of the care with which i had just constructed the past hours' events looking through 1987 notebooks and romance novels, striped skirts and baby bottles, this is your past, all in the same box undefined remembered with a yearbook here, a newspaper clipping there me, in my coffee cup jittery flipping maniacally through lost pages in dusty attics letting this past seize me in the present ...sometimes it seems that as soon as an object is brought into being it always lives in the present, until it is destroyed, or rather dispersed. -yeh, sittin' up rainy night strange attic lonely. Written January 25th, 2002 © on Jan 25 2002 01:18 PM PST 10 • 0
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