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2003-09-08, 11:27 p.m.

i love to stare out of the corner of the back window, a perfectly segmented view of anything abnormal, yet utterly beautiful. and the windows change the color, clouds wear a deep shadow, and the sun is almost to young to hurt your eyes. the shafts of light remain, radiating from the sun like catheadral steaples, moments of geometry and poetry intertwined. through numerous trees, all of whom still wear their spring coats of green and deeper greens yet, the memories are sifted and the senses are reminded of life. the air, possessing such thoughts, breaks open my tastebuds like shards of glass (oh how MSG