re-order: May. 08, 2002 (9:33 pm)

in guided imagery they always tell you to go to your happy place. rivers, streams, trees brought into a office in the city. threatening silence, i can't be calm there. it's that park near wilson, the fugazi show--after a winter of smokey clubs before him. a reconciled world, bodies in harmony.

i went to a show there last september with paul. and all those moments of closed-eye relief were shattered by the image of my head burried in his chest and later the coffee thrown against the trees in my blind fury.

on his adoration of thoreau, later than year in the park, 'we rely too much on things that don't matter. i'm going go away.'

'couldn't this be your walden, paul?'

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