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7:01 a.m. - September 14, 2004
The morning glories are dead but their afterimage lingers
Last night a pollster called and I had the distinct pleasure of saying I was not voting for president in this election. The decision crystallized and the hemming and hawing, not to mention civic guilt and every vote counts! rhetoric, came to an end. Very interesting that the pollster immediately asked, So you support Nader, then?

Watching the dew on the roof glisten in the sun (this house is t-shaped, with my perch here able to view the cross-section and its roof) and thinking I might as well leave now since I have nothing better to do. Tuesdays and Wednesdays are going to be difficult - already I'm disinclined to go, eagerly seek diversion: Earthquake, outbreak of disease, something. I have nine and a half months left of this assignment. The pain in my belly is a tumor.

Very strange - again dreamt of Chris. I have been debating whether my inability to be done with it, even after he (dis)acknowledged my offer of rapprochement, is something to pursue. Generally when it's time to go, I'm gone but with him I truly feel the pang of it didn't have to be like this and even it's wrong. A petite crise de conscience and I'm trying to become angry over the matter, angry at myself for having shared with him such deeply personal things that I feel a fool, angry at myself for thinking Friendship was on the horizon. What really hurts is the reaffirmation that I'm an easy person to let go of, reminding me of Lesson Number One: Never, never get close to somebody. This is a good exercise for me because in the end, I prefer to hurt than not to hurt and I see this as a positive experience. I worry about him and how often does that happen?

Picked up Hemingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls. Suits my mood perfectly.


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