Apr. 8th, 2004

Melancholy tonight for simpler pleasures and obsessions.

Regrettably, it's almost certainly entirely hormonal, and, as such, is too non-specific as to even be poetic.

I do find that one of the only sure barometers of my moods that I can always notice and interpret is the rhythm of my sentences. And these aren't up and down moods so much as flavoured moods. Orange, as opposed to blue. Or pure sleek smiling black as opposed to cotton, washed too many times and weak.

February 2021

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