Splintery August 31, 2006

Hey there. It's the end of August and there is this awful Autumnal feeling in the air that i am not prepared for. i want it to be sweltering and unbearable for another month. I want to be listless like a floridian crocodile and be forced to stand in front of my fan naked. I want there to be brownouts and danger for the elderly. I am not ready for the Fall with its back to school vibe and ambitions and fashion weeks.

My goal this fall though is to have at least one project reach greenlight stage so i can afford to get a blackberry, go to Spain, actually feel comfortable about giving money to charity, and order wireless airport hookup in my apartment so i can write on this evermore!

I went up to see my family last week in New Hampshire and had a great time. My family has a cottage on this lake that was purchased in the 20's (i think 1928 or something) by my great-aunt Lilly, who was a showgirl. It's this simple little house. Everything is as tasty and sharp as snap peas. The sunsets are always dramatic, the stars are communicably close, and there are rainbows -- i saw one this time, and my mom and I were so elated, like we'd never seen one before.

I am at the coffee place by my house and this red haired guy with an Irish accent just came in. He's attractive and serious and has to get back to work. I wonder if he is someone focused for me. You never know. But thats the problem. I am in a maze of possibilities. Everything is dangling at once. I wish i could split myself into a thousand people and have one splintered part of me go live with him.

I am way too fascinated by too many people. I feel unlimited. Will i ever be able to get edges to myself?

This leads to a larger question...which turns into a worry when i am feeling paranoid or it's winter...but I wonder if i am not meant to settle down...and that I am a fractured reflection of the mirrored, faceted contemporary age, where people can bow down on the subway and look at the screen in their hands and send text messages to their friendsters rather than look across the screeching car. There is always a whisperer or reminder or polite alarm or electronic wink now, and instead of using communication to find one final connection, our minds are splintering into little filaments. Maybe i am a product of this age, and I will be some sort of techno-polygamist along with everyone else.

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