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Wednesday May 16, 2001, 02:56

NPR drones in the background playing selections inspired by the story of Romeo and Juliet as I go back one year, two years in my inbox and find emails that I never responded to. Conversations cut off simply by my not finding the time to write. And now I look back and I remember the conversations. I remember the people with whom I was speaking. We were sharing our lives, or something of the sort, and I am quite tempted to pick up again where we left off. This one had a book deal. That one a new partner. And so on.

But it would be wildly improper I suspect.

Has too much time passed? In Internet time it was ages ago. But just recently two men were released from prison for a crime they did not commit. When interviewed and asked what it was like, returning to their home after fourteen years, one of the men responded "fourteen years is not that long. The neighborhood looks the same. It even looks better." I paraphrase of course, but imagine that outlook on life. And to find, after returning home, that in fact there was a home to return to.

I look forward to having that of my own again.

I look out the window, across the room from me (as my desk currently sits in a corner, in an "office" area) and see that the moon has risen significantly since last I looked at twenty minutes ago. Much brighter now it serves as a reminder of the cycles of the day, etc etc. It's really just quite pretty, sitting up there over the lights of the city.

ČTh email situation that I outlined before is quite indicative of my general state of mind in regards to human interaction. Mainly that I crave more of it. Actually, I really just crave more along the lines of first dates, without having to go through the trouble of actually asking a girl out on a date. Learning more about a person, telling stories, listening intently about nothing at all. Be it with someone with whom you have no interest in sharing anything more than a coffee, or a person with whom you will spend the rest of your life, the stories are, it would seem, what make life worth living (that, and chocolate, one would argue -- or perhaps ice cream now that the weather is warming up a bit. Although it's actually gotten quite chilly in the past couple of days, perhaps taking a swing too far down on the mercury for spring, but I'd much rather have to don a long-sleeved shirt than be forced to sweat my way down Broadway. Recall, however, that hot weather means flipflops and tanktops [ items that have all of a sudden ingrained themselves as "summer" in my mind ] which isn't all together a bad thing).

The trick then is to meet people with whom you can have meaningful conversations without reaching out to those heartfelt ads on Craigslist which I would love to be able to trust but can't help but figure that they've been posted by someone in worse shape than I and therefore nobody that I would want anything to do with.

In recent days I've turned down two opportunities to attend the theatre with my friends, realizing that I have no real source of income at the moment and therefore finding a particular need to be especially frugal (more so than simply picking up yesterday's Time from the recycling bin located conveniently outside of my apartment). I have spoken to (one of) my employer(s) and in a remarkable turn of events actually informed him that I would be billing for all of the hours that I was working for him, rather than the predetermined hours that would fall short of the actual hours during which I worked (the actual number of hours that I am scheduled for each week being ten and the total number of hours already reaching many more than that, with more to come in the remainder of the week).

My life is too complicated.

Mr. Moon has risen up gain, now sitting squarely in the middle of my sights as I gaze out the window, smiling cheerily down up on the entirety of the city. I wonder who else out there is looking at the moon right now and thinking what a beautiful thing it is. Most people look at the moon and think "moon. It must be night." Others thing "moon." And still others think simply "mmm... green cheese."

Further plaguing my life: slow Internet access, sendmail, plaster dust on the one pair of pants that I actually like. The next time I go into that office I'm wearing my Carhartts.

And a very tiny office (note, pictured office will seat four people).

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