January 4th, 2004

dreadhawk

things on a sunday

sometimes i remember scents. does anyone else? the other day i caught a whiff of a shaving cream i used when i was sixteen, though nothing around me carried that scent. i was reading a novel at the time, & it smelled only of paper. if i shut my eyes & try hard enough in a neutral room, i can still smell daryl's neck. i'm glad for that.

i discovered a few weeks ago that krylon makes a plastics-specific spray paint, so i've been going through the three or four pieces of stupid cheap faux-woodgrain laminate crap i own & making it all pretty black. i didn't clean my computer table very well before i painted it last weekend. spray-painted cobwebs feel very strange & crunchy. oops.

it'd be great if all the people who claim to have shitty memories are totally fucking with & lying to us, & actually remember every single thing that happens eidetically. then those of us who DO remember every single thing eidetically wouldn't be able to reassure ourselves one iota that the weird thing that happened or was said was probably forgotten shortly thereafter by whomever it happened in front of or was said to. & that'd be great, you see, because reassurance is a farce.

i filled out my telefile tax form in crayon because i am funny.

to the majority: i don't care about you.
to the minority: fuck you.
to two: i love you.

that's all.
  • Current Music
    cilantro, "now you realize"