took my first step outside today in 2 weeks - i'll never complain about others walking too slowly again.

feeling very lost-in-translationish, after 2 weeks of luxuriating in nina-simoneness. emobummer.

i can't believe how i'm indulging in mind-drifting now with a huge paper hanging over my head. i've lost all semblance of structure, and boy does it feel good. i dream of nights of conversation along the charles river or in the T-stations, of racing from square to square in boston until dawn breaks at the harbor, of lying in the old yard or on the steps of widener with a kindred spirit. why all at night? when i think of san francisco/berkeley i can feel the californian light.