some hypersensitive weirdo moved into the apartment above me. *i* can't even hear my own music, and yet there he goes again -- knocking on my ceiling. nevermind the freeway, the garbage-truck on its midnight-run, and the gutterpunks singing carols outside. i used to live above a stoner dj. he seriously thought mixing metallica with aphex twin was a good idea.

work is the same. there's little joy there.

i completely missed kristen hersch and vic chesnutt. and i am completely missing elliot smith. what the fuck is wrong with me? i guess i can't really do big shows anymore. they used to be fun but now i prefer the intimacy of a small concert. i'm tired of the eternal struggle of trying to get a good spot and then ending up behind a pillar.

i feel a bit lost in the world. i can't believe i still think about daphne all the time. does this crap ever go away? it's like we're still together and i'm just waiting for her to come home. i'm thinking of all the things we'll want to talk about. pathetic.