notes of Jeremy Darkside

                           (teenage existentialist)

1.

How long can a person sit on the floor before he learns again how to smile and talk with interest to all the stray gypsies he has known or once followed.  The ghosts in the street are barely speaking.  Perhaps he has cut himself loose for good, despite what he suspected about cycles and the way of all things, the return of all slumps, the erasability of emotions.  

   Such a shadow to wander around the house endless confused having carved a path of destruction with ambivalence.  You let something go and might find it won't return and then there you are with no love to sell and no money to give away.  A nuisance to your own shoes as they carry you wearily in search of meaningless, or meaningful, or at least pleasant distraction.  Ah, there are so many errands to run in the name of everyday life.