---

i spy. it's so much more fun from this safe distance. the things i built up are tearing me down. i keep promising it will be different. i need some more amusing hobbies.

i've been feeling a little under the weather - my muscles just a little achey, my throat just a little sore. i looked in the mirror this morning at the back of my throat and man, it's really gross. i hopped on a subway to a walk-in clinic, and the doctor tested for strep and mono. it looks like i have mono. i find out on tuesday.

i'm not getting as much sympathy as i want, because i feel fine.

(hey you - why does everything have to be such a big deal? i want to make each other laugh. maybe i just want someone else. we've grown apart. silly boy. grumpy boy. green-eyed boy. is this worth it?)

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_[]-[e]-[]-[]:[];|[]p][];|[]:|[e]_[]-
buk came in on a train this morning. greg and matt showed up and we played asshole and drank heinakin. anna came home and we played songs and erin wrote a bit of a new one. anna's friend mark came over. i went to bed first and everyone else watched fight club.

the more i get to know matt, the more i like him.

---

he was watching movies outside my bedroom door at four in the morning, so i went out to him. and it starts again.

what i really want is for things to be the way they were before all this stuff happened. i want those golden rainy sundays. what we have now is awkward in it's comfort. wanting is better than having. once i have what you want, i don't want it the same way anymore. i miss that sunny mutual yearning. we used to be so forbidden. now we make out on the sofa.

i can picture us in my head, stylized and swirling around eachother like litter on the sidewalk.

i don't want what i used to want. i want to go through the motions until this goes away.

---

things are looking up.

joel made origami and left it in my room. when i unfolded the crane it said:

carolyn
i don't want you to apologize because i'm afraid i'll accept it. i don't want to justify my actions, but i'm afraid that i will. i owe you an apology. i'm sorry.
-joel

it's not really anything he hasn't said before, but i like it. he's right, of coarse. even if he's wrong, that makes him right. we played boggle on his computer today. if we could get to a place where we were really just friendly roommates, that would be awesome, and i feel like we're getting there. the air's not so thick anymore.

i poured myself into a project until four in the morning yesterday and i'm still exhausted. i expect -- a b?

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we played cards three times last night, and then he came back and we played even more. i don't know how to entertain him anymore, and part of me just wanted to go to sleep. i'm trying not to be moved. when he left he said he would come back, and he didn't. he hasn't left his room all day. it's one less thing to bend around.

anna and i wrote a song today:

anymore

there's no trace of you 'round here anymore
just nail clippings that you left on the floor
a letter to me 'bout what you're leaving for
there's no trace of you 'round here anymore

i find your hairs up on my shower wall
and when the phone rings then i foreword you call
and when you're gone you haven't left here at all
i find you hairs up on my shower wall

chorus

i can still smell you in my pillow case
and when i wake think i feel your embrace
i don't know why anybody never stays
and i can still smell you in my pollow case

chorus x2
...anymore

i think i realized today that i should illustrate children's books for a living.

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tonight anna and i made posters with aj's face on them, and posted them near places he might be -- bloor street, chinatown, kensington, around ocad and on queen street. we found a skinny young tree that had been broken in half and was bent over backwards, so we fixed it with duct tape using pencils as splints. i wonder who we amused and who we annoyed.

we stopped in to see a dj howl show in a trendy place on dundass. the atmosphere and music was awesome, but we didn't stay for more than half an hour. i wish we had. we went home and made hash browns.

my head wants to sleep, but my body won't let me. or maybe it's the other way around.

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i escaped to peterborough, but it was grey and boxy. a nice place to live, but i wouldn't want to visit. i came home earlier than i had planned, and hungrier than when i had left, but with a new love for toronto.

once i met a man who's face looked like it had been drawn by a child with orange and yellow crayon. the whole time i was talking to him i was writing poetry in my head.