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Thursday, September 29, 2005

Just this Monday, twice.

Anxiety.

They have largely been realized; but then, they were not excessively grand.

Ambivalence, or so it often appears.

A piano; a patron.

Yes, but there is no shame in not caring to become one.

The intersection of Industry and Privilege.

Trivially so.

The belief that my musical output is a viable commodity.

Worry it.

Winnowing; organization beyond the immediately expedient.

Conversation. Watching a new print of an old film; reading something that I don't have to write about; unexpectedly hearing, in a public space, a song I had forgotten I loved. Having my back scratched.

Anything that does not suggest a misunderstanding.

Ask me about critics.

The utopian; the anachronistic.

Narcotics.

I don't know yet, but suspect it will turn out to be my back.

Letting another speak.

Diffidence, either in itself or -- among the insightful -- as an expression of arrogance; smoking.

Comes tantalizingly close to connecting me to others.

Not even a cult figure.

Any that does not require sleep, metabolizes toxins efficiently, is less easily intimidated, and possesses telepathic powers.

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