a stranger with your doorkey.

the world is so often such a hurtful place. i'm not always sure i belong here.

things that are currently totally breaking my face include walking in the ghetto; finding huge billboards there for the boondocks cartoon, which will be starting very soon; the postal service: get up; and the fifth track on radiohead's amnesiac. breaking my face, in this context, is different than making me indescribably sad. it is sort of the opposite, actually.

i waited for the light to change with a cute boy today. he had just-getting-floppy short dark hair and a pinstriped jacket and a t-shirt and black and purple trainers with fucking heartograms on them. and he rode his skateboard. i watched him roll away.

dear cute boy,

my goodness, but you were cute. thank you for making things a little bit better. please let me touch your bum. i promise to make you feel pretty.

ever yours,

jack.

there was a cute boy on the subway, too. i always fall in love with the boys with dreadlocks, especially the ones with broader noses. i think they look like lions. i always assume that they are poets.

there are too many cute girls for me to even talk about them. meow.