humberthumbert

the other day i swung for a little bit on this wood swing they have hanging from a tree on campus. swings are the best. when i was a kid i'd stay on for hours. going really high on the chains and almost touching the trees. in my head "a whole new world" from aladdin would be the music to it.

it's almost that magic, still. now i want to find some good ones that you can go really high on and just chill one day. i don't get out enough.

five days now. i'm sick.

the biographer, the photographer.

letting go of hurt feelings is as easy as unclenching a fist, unless you don't know how to do that.

i finally moved out. new room is big and bare. feels like i am living in a hotel by myself.

the beach, and boston.

around here we hope to be moderate celebrities, delight in the smallest triumphs. but i can't bring myself to be happy, to leave this room.

it's a good room, in that it doesn't feel at all connected to the rest of this house. all that has gone on here.

and other buildings, around.


time for freud:
parents are the first relationship a child knows from which he/she is forever excluded.

the end.