2010-02-05 - 11:01 p.m.

making something out of nothing 'til there's no more nothing left

outside in the streetlight, curtains of rain are sweeping down the asphalt. i am back from a show, listening to music from 1994, making cupcakes and almond cantuccini and pasta from scratch. the kitchen windows are fogged over.

there's a textbook on stochastic processes and a pair of sleepy cats on the table. there's a sweater for a baby, waiting for seaming.

i'll make another tea, and change the sheets on the bed.

things repeatedly fall, ebb, dissipate or descend, and everything turns out to be about subjectivity and time, and i don't know how to say what it is i want to say, alone in the kitchen here at night.

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