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Long Day's Journey into Laundry
Oct. 16th, 2003 06:36 pmToday while going through old papers and deciding what to file and what to throw away, I came across a sheet of paper that had a single sentence typed on it. It read “Tiny fish bite my ass.”
I have no idea where this came from, but it is undoubtedly something I typed at one point. I suppose I thought the sentence too good to throw away, but the context in which it was created is forever lost. I enjoy when bits of the past come floating back, deprived of context and eager to make a new impression on life. It is a bit like memory made physical, drifting about my apartment as thoughts drift through my head, surfacing when least expected.
I keep intending to organize all my information about my friends: birthdays, addresses, phone numbers, anniversaries, etc… I don’t want to keep it in a physical book, too messy. I don’t want to put it in Outlook, too annoying. I suppose I should simply write a database for myself, it wouldn’t be complicated and I enjoy writing databases. Maybe when I get back after this weekend.
I have no idea where this came from, but it is undoubtedly something I typed at one point. I suppose I thought the sentence too good to throw away, but the context in which it was created is forever lost. I enjoy when bits of the past come floating back, deprived of context and eager to make a new impression on life. It is a bit like memory made physical, drifting about my apartment as thoughts drift through my head, surfacing when least expected.
I keep intending to organize all my information about my friends: birthdays, addresses, phone numbers, anniversaries, etc… I don’t want to keep it in a physical book, too messy. I don’t want to put it in Outlook, too annoying. I suppose I should simply write a database for myself, it wouldn’t be complicated and I enjoy writing databases. Maybe when I get back after this weekend.
