September 23, 1998.

It's days like this when I'm truly in love with my street. Clear air, clean skies, brisk little twang! to the air that keeps me moving...I'm beginning to take solace in the sights on my way to & from campus. The smaller the little landmarks get, the easier it is to cover the ground.

Don't really have that much to write about today. Feeling good doesn't make good copy. Trevor came over to visit last night & didn't stay long enough by half. I have yet to discover how long 'long enough' is. Wrote a poem about him, but I don't know whether it's any good right now. Give me a couple days & it might appear on my other page. Or not. I wrote a song about Mr. Blonde last year which has yet to surface, although I think it's hot stuff. At present, it lingers in my backpack, scrawled on bank slips & little throwaway slips of paper. A hell of a nativity.

One of the major themes in older Japanese literature is the longing of a lover parted from his or her beloved. The thought was that love was proved by extended periods of longing, not by the short periods of togetherness. I wish I could remember the word to describe this longing, but I can't. Such is my mind. But it's an interesting thought, hmm, Nigel & Stacey?

one year ago today: forced period of contemplation