words keep falling flat this week. i started a letter to you but it felt so gloomy, probably because it was raining out. i gave up and went home and didn't even bother to take a nap even though i could have so easily. but then i'd also just had black tea so i didn't really feel tired anymore—jolted it right out of my system. a few nights before that i started writing a story, got back up after i'd gone to sleep and everything, but it just didn't work out when i tried typing it up.

i kept thinking lately that i'd like to write my life instead of living it (or live it through writing it), but the past few days it seems like that would be a horrible idea. it'd probably come out something like nausea or worse. that's probably being way too pessimistic though since i am hardly that existential lately.¹

looking at the other music site, it seems that the cambridge store has just disappeared from existence. maybe i'm missing it, but there's no mention of it closing or still being there for that matter. i need to walk down there at night and see, remember to myself how i peeked in the windows before it opened, the excitement of it coming, all blue and orange. i can't really believe it's gone.² yesterday coming over the charles river on the train, it was so foggy that all the tall buildings were gone. this city just eats things sometimes.

for future reference: it's probably only half true. i am being less and less accurate about what is real. or more accurate about what isn't real.³