hour five at the Peter Pan desk in Macy's. The only pen I have is disguised as a smallish turd and the clientele here are not amused. Took a long lunch with Hand, and now I rot for three more hours in the fragrance section
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the Fear exists. there's no getting around it. but you grab the Fear by the collar, stick your face in it's face, & spit directly into it's one, steely eyeball. then you wait and breathe and keep your ears open.
sore muscles walking to rehearsal guesswork arrested development adequately balancing work and play
things i do not like today:
it's almost monday. again.
they come to town when the party's over, books been written & truths been tried. they'll take it all if the door's left open, steal the nose right from under your