wow, i think this week was longer than zero

2003-01-16, 12:57 a.m.

the village, it would be the same as camus would have described. treeless, without flowers or decoration, the walls of the town would bake to a bone white in the summer, and in the winter, a layer of mud coated everything. the kind of dust that settled in your hair and made you look 20 years older; the smells, like baking soda that expired 10 years ago; all of the things you heard sounded foreign but completely expected.

the hardest part about this place? the connections to the outside world, all the dependencies we had here, they were apparent when all the bridges crumbled; nobody wants to hear your hard luck story here, when they all know the dry heat or the sticky mud. nobody here can trade you stories, and they certainly cant give you something to complain about. thats the hardest part, because you see, the critical eye we have for others is the ultimate distraction.

here, this place is like a jail where the only way out is nirvana. the only escape map is your own mind, and you must keep any routes secret. the hope, you need to hold that like someone across the water, and you must give that hope any reason to reciprocate. here in the village, much like what camus described, you need to look up over the buildings to see what you want.