1-28-99, 6 p.m.
I don't understand this phenomenon that happens in me. I indulge a certain part of myself: the contemplative, romantic part. The part that insists that I light five candles, have no lights on, listen to the most beautiful jazz possible, write, drink coffee, if I had cigarettes, I'd smoke one, while sipping red wine, actually I think cognac would go better with the whole mood, but aside from not particularly liking cognac, I don't have any. I feel so small, and yet so content; everything's peaceful. While at the same time, completely.....
recrudescence: breaking out again after a dormant period.
anachronism: placement of something as existing
Ask Dad about bulb for Super 8 projector.
Stuff to Do:
1. play racquetball
2. play chess
3. go to shooting range (note from 2012 me: HUH??!!!)
4. go camping
5. pool
6. bowling
Stuff I Want:
1. to help paint walls of new apartment
2. clarinet
3. philosophy books
4. to watch Henry Miller video
5. to see his artwork, writing, etc.
Stuff I Can Give/Lend (note from 2012 me: who do I keep writing about donating to?)
1. halogen lamp
2. rotary phone (again...HUH?!!!)
3. cups
4. silverware
maybe some dishes
black tv/stereo shelves
comforter, sheets, 2 chairs
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