�

i am dressed in the uniform of old.

i am wearing my green army pants (33 waist, straight leg), long sleeved shirt that s. might want back, as it's from her friend's snowboard company or some such nonsense, and my blue fleece gap hoodie. i am transported back to 1999. i am single. i am writing to a girl in california who thinks i'm hot. 1998, perhaps? no, 1999. it was after i was "getting over" s. the first time that i met M. i don't have the same attraction to her, but i'm living in the past now, and it's warming.

a diary that was so central then has unlocked. 1999..2000.

i wrote to my old boss, john, to let him know that LAIBACH are playing tonight (i thought it was the 20th) - he wrote back to let me know that his girlfriend is sick, so he has an extra ticket. don't spend money on it. save it for beer.

laibach, john, cspi. 2000.

it's incredibly grey and foggy outside. i woke up to blue sky, sunlight, and frost on my window. i fell asleep trying not to shift my legs, as anywhere my body was not laying was freezing cold.

alone in bed, 1979-1998.
first forays of sleeping in a bed with someone else had little to do with "sharing" - i stayed so close to the precipice that i might have been on the floor. leaving on crisp february mornings, the bus to the subway back to reality, to sleeping alone, in comfort.

the first time s. and i shared a bed, i did the same.

now i scootch towards warmth, like an animal constantly getting up, circling, circling, patting down the earth, to curl up again in comfort.

i'm resisting taking pills again. i am having to take pills again. i am searching for emails to verify my attractiveness.

i'm surrounded by ramshackle furnishings and possessions strewn haphazardly.

this time it'll be different,
i tell my clone.
this time you'll be right with you,
and you'll let someone come to you and offer themselves, rather than the other way around.

that's the way to play the game,
i say.

my clone nods in silent agreement.