Sunday, March 14, 2004

Bombarded
I've had to come into work the past couple of weekends. Having to work more than 40 hours drains you creatively. That's part of the reason for the silence.
Living in silence or meaningless noise (white noise?) makes things two dimensional--I hear what happens, I see with my eyes, and yet to truly touch it--reality, I mean. It's like ephemeral jelly. All ambiguity and smoke.

Puff.

I'll come back when I'm a little more solid.