2.IX.2002 ::::: 16.15 laborare orare est.

sing me to sleep. or send me mixtapes. it's september.

i was wearing my red shoes. i walked down the streets sweating.

mischka's new second-storey apartment has a second-storey porch & we played scrabble on it. [dear mischka: it said END SEQL & i laughed.]

other than the excursion to mischka's: my day has been the law+order marathon & a book of crosswords (why so many clues about military history?). i think i am not as young as i think i am, sitting on the bed half watching sam waterston half trying to remember the capital city of yemen which has five letters.