June 29, 2002 :: 12:02 a.m.
The box's resident has passed away
Yes, yes, another one, but I promise it'll be short. The little bird died. Adam called, so I went into my room to talk to him and when I looked into the box, the poor thing was on its back, very much not moving. Eep. I layed it among some flowers in the back yard, which sounded much more appealing to me than the "thow it in the dumpster" that my dad offered up. Can you believe him?
So that was very sad. When I got off the phone with Adam, I pulled out the legal pad that I keep next to my bed and started to write. Before I knew it I had three pages of messy script detailing something that I'm less than proud of. I suppose it made me feel a little better. A bit of a release. I haven't written, really written, in a long time. Not like that. It felt good.
The main point of adding another entry was that the bird died. I felt it necessary to share this, and now I have, so I'm going to pack my lunch for tomorrow. 'Night.
back & forth
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