alas, internet diary. what is there to say.

there is much to say.

but now it's all about shouting at the spire outside my new window, watching squirrels on the neighboring roof, eating hot dogs and beans and stretching $20 to last a week. There's nothing in my new apartment that I couldn't list on an index card.

I am in beat dirt heaven.

Whiskey, water, carrying boxes to the third floor daily; these things take care of the fresh hell.