dream: jake forms a band called dr. freud's little glass candy jar. i woke up listening to their tape, which turned out to be beasts snoring on either side of my head. last week i had a torrid sleep-affair with the hospital's scary gothabilly tech guy. these are the urges that float up when i deny myself waking mention of valentine's day. i don't care: my obsession with ceremony will fall victim to the Total Health Plan. secular asceticism will do.
car alarms playing marco polo in the warehouse across the street, eerie neighbor girls singing the doublemint jingle at half speed. i'm hiding from theme party #427 in palo alto; i'd answer e-mail and post lyrically, but i'm tired of talking about dying cats.
jen was my best valentine's day. we took each other to dinner and talked over cheap wine as coaches blew exhaust into our room on high street.
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