Wednesday, June 25

 

i know i should change it. i don't ever think of it. i leave it alone.


yours, amanda L. at 6:23:00 PM [+]



Saturday, June 21

 

the party
one mazillion people clutched together on the third floor which was lit with a red light in one corner and otherwise dark with loud keyboards playing and drums and they threw beer all over themselves and leaped into the air and such. it got very hot and when the band was finished everyone just spilled out into the street with their cups and cigarettes and talk; plotting the next move. before, at eight thirty, i was alone and not sure what to do with myself, i was taking the second floor apartment apart and putting all the pieces into drawers and hiding spots, drinking tea calmly and stewart rides a bicycle up and i say through the window, no one else is here and yes your bicycle will get stolen, lock it up. muna and i made friends with stewart in a tag team sort of way, we never left his side, he holds his body very inward curled and careful. later she went away with him and jim straub to drink wine at some unknown place. maury threw up down the side of the building from my window. i said to ellen, hey twin. other things.

andrew and i rode our bicycles to 821 cafe in the morning, i woke up early, the apartment was disassembled, we needed to buy a mop and mop the floors. andrew-- i like andrew. even if he is a pain in the neck. chris newby saying, it would be impossible to ever be depressed in this apartment! and us laughing

yours, amanda L. at 11:44:00 PM [+]



Thursday, June 19

 

for summer for ever

tomorrow andrew and i are hosting a party where we will serve PBR from a keg and listen to the sick sounds of VCR, a band with no guitars but three keyboardists. we are not actually having the party in our apartment, but in the empty apartment above our own. this is delicious, this is exciting. dancing and people and noise and unknowables, variables, uncertainties, on and on.
muna visits and plays the drums for hours. across town, nicholas is packing up all his things, it is his turn, and he's moving to scottsville to build a house. i have no job. i broke my sewing machine.
we live next to the library and i go there to copy down pages from books on lasers and synthetic perfumes and polymers

yours, amanda L. at 6:43:00 PM [+]



Wednesday, June 4

 

my shoes were white but now marked a bit

1. the emperor's new mind, again
2. i came to the school to teach math but instead i hung recycled boxwood garlands around the auditorium. she had taken them off the front of st. catherines after their graduation ceremony. with yellow and white ribbon bows and clumps of sorry daisies that we pulled out of them and filled into a metal trashcan.
3. hold the plants with my hand and pull oh
4. the sounds; the weakerthans
5. and my sewingmachine sews words, and the only allowed values of angular momentum, and and and i wake up in the mornings damp and warm and still; it is early/earlier, always raining, where we live with windows open with bees, spiders and the bugs that fly in polygon shapes, so entropy increases whereever a measurement takes place;
6. retinas, macroscopic nerve signals, visual 'noise', neurons in the body that can be triggered by single quantum events

yours, amanda L. at 10:24:00 AM [+]





anda gail lewis 2005. stop crying every day.

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