“In certain favourable moods, memories – what one has forgotten – come to the top. Now if this is so, is it not possible – I often wonder – that things we have felt with great intensity have an existence independent of our minds; are in fact still in existence?”
--Virginia Woolf

What if forensics finds the answer? What if they stole my fingerprints?
Where did I leave my book of matches? We'll burn you.

Tokyo Bowl with Tor and Greg for lunch. That is the first lunch I've not eaten by myself during a workday since I've been here (5 months). Except for the couple times Amy met me for lunch. Greg spent time in Rome. Tor is from the Czech Republic and has been all over Europe. I want to cash out my savings account and travel.

Tonight in my Memoirs class, we are workshopping some of my writing. That should be interesting since I'm not usually one much open to suggestions from anyone other than a professor.

Today on my way to work, I saw a shabbily dressed man standing on the side of the road at a stoplight holding a sign that said:
Why lie?
I need a beer.

My fingernails are very long and I need to cut them. But my clippers are somewhere in the apartment I'm partially moved out of and not living in anymore. This is a microcosm for my entire existence right now.

This morning was quite blizzard-like. The snow and fog seemed to make the world smaller and quieter. I love how the snow muffles sounds and makes the world softer and brighter.

The fog only let me see as far as I immediatly needed to, obliterating worries of what's coming up next, making me focus on now. While the crazy traffic congestion probably really irritated most of those driving in it, I felt oddly at peace watching the snowflakes crash into my windshield and gracefully melt as I listened to the wordless melodies and cascading tones of Explosions in the Sky.