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Photo by Carrie Thomas

I went into the studio on Saturday and did some backing vocals and additional guitars for Throw That Box as well as some drumming.

Fall has begun to creep into my bones. I cling to K at night as the cold air crawls through the window by our bed like an intruder. He is a very functional furnace.

Next weekend is the Coney Island Film Festival.(Thank You Anonymous)

I feel a little sad today. I'm not sure why.

My phone is ringing. I'm pretending I don't hear it.

The air is heavy.

This day is long.

I think I may buy some yarn and start making a scarf.

I've been stockpiling canned goods.
I used 2 cans of beans.
This stresses me out.
It's a constant task to keep things
as they should be.
I want to be prepared when the bombs start to fall.

I feel like that lady who was screaming
and handing out pamphlets in the subway about
9-11 and the government plot behind it.
She actually sounded pretty sane to me,
though she should have printed her rantings in a larger font.
8 point is hard to read, especially as the train is shifting.

They really should modernize the subway. It's falling apart.
Laura killed a cockroach in my bathroom. Soon, there will be more. She made muffins for my cracked out neighbor who now refers to me as "The Boss Man."

The water has started leaking again. It sounds like it is raining inside the wall.
I have wavering opinions about the man upstairs and his plot to drive me crazy. Of course, I kid.