READ ME ... yeah, right. Right?

I'm sick of everyone else having on-line diaries. I want one too.

What is this all about? Maybe you should read the READ ME READ ME.

january 29, 1996: uncertain

it's 4:25 a.m.; i am sitting here, beating myself up about all that i don't have the guts to write up here, even though i am literally dying to.

i step outside, on the back porch, to smoke a cigarette (i'm still at cyborganic, see) and i see a man, on his roof in the building behind, on guerrero, singing out loud to "tell me why i don't like mondays" and i am overwhelmed by feeling.

i can't place my finger on it. it's the raw nature of unapologetic self-expression that i love.

i wish i had my camcorder with me.

then he changes the music to that tears for fears song, "change."





or, if you must, back to Rebecca's Revenge

Copyright 1996 Rebecca Eisenberg