27/01/2003 - 5:30 p.m.

Carry on as if nothing really mattered.

The sky is layered pastel blue and pink like a couple arguing back and forth about the sex of their baby. Although that description is hardly as complimentary as I meant it.

Listening to RENT today I was stricken with the meaning of some of the lines in "La Vie Boheme": To no shame- never playing the fame game. NYC started a No Shame in 1989, which died sometime in the late 1990's. (It's since been revived.) Jonathan Larson spent time in New York (obviously), he was a theatre person (duh), could no shame mean No Shame? If so, how incredibly cool.

Speaking of such, I'm writing a monolouge for this Friday. It's basically a story I'll do with a character. It could definately be a returning character, but, yeah, I don't know how it's going to go over. I'll put it up here when I finish it. When I say I want brute honesty in regards to it, I mean it.

The window has nose smears on it. I suppose they have to be mine, they're too high to be Polly's, and I've never seen Jessica come near the window. But the thing is, I can't seem to recall leaving my nose prints on the glass. Although, I guess I can't discount the idea that some phantom is sneaking 'round the room when no one's here and leaving nose prints on the glass, but it does seem a touch unlikely.

This morning "Brandy" was playing on the radio when my alarm sounded at seven. Jessica got up and turned it off, after she'd kept the light on and people running in and out until one o clock last night. Well, I'm sorry, if she wants to sleep, she could've done it last night. If she does that to a Beatles song, or any song that they don't play very often- "Me and Bobby McGee" or "White Rabbit"- there would be very little keeping me from making the leap from my loft to her jugular.