marlboro's tearing me apart. for completely different reasons than from last time. diametrically opposed in the manichean aesthetic. ohhhhhhh i don't know. but it is good to miss things.

besides, time doesn't happen here.

it feels like the apocalypse. clouds only hover, but humidity weighs in at one hundred per cent. mattresses and water sop the hallways, gleaming gray.

films are shown tonight. shouts fly up amid golf-claps. black slacks and jackets line up on gravel paths to the little octagonal theater. champagne flows on the two-and-a-half hour.

the black ponytail wafts away, glinting behind milk and apple cheeks. i rest back in my quilted dome. she visits me open.

ah, so i was actually pretty happy after a twelve-minute delve into that recurrent white-basked hammock of naptime today. damn, that felt so good. i recovered myself. naps are insane, god, how yummy.

so that alleviated my three-week-running tension headache for about twenty-eight minutes. then i drank some coffee to recover again. then i actually enjoyed the editing process again and rohan and i didn't want to blindly shoot each other, again.

but god, how i want to go home. i want to go home and feel reality, no matter how cold. better than the however-small doubts i have, suspended up here within the interstices of global community... yeah, a pretty grandiose definition of marlboro, but that's how it feels, swear to god.

jesus christ, i won't be here for fifteen months! and it will feel like nothing, non-grata! oh, lifespans.

back to my paper. more subjectivity. but in tertiary terms.

adios!