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2:50 a.m. - 2003-05-30
little grave markers
4 entries in 4 days. My oh my, unprecidented in this particular journal.

So as I was saying, The film and/or batteries always run out right before the best stuff happens. This means that the best and most beautiful things are locked up only in my memory. Most people think its good to have these private things only we can own but for me its too much responsibility. If theres no external record of a thing, if only I remember this person, or place, or thing, or moment, then I am its sole gaurdian. When I forget it, it doesnt exist anymore. When I forget it then it dies and I have killed it. So I try to record things, preferably in photos, which they say I'm getting pretty good at.

But I have such a poor, poor memory. Im a serial murderess of good memories. I should slink around train stations with a high-collared coat and a hat with a veil and smoke ciggarrettes on a loooong holder and lure gumshoes into my nefarious schemes.

My room, my paper journal, and indeed my brain are littered with junk. Souvenirs. Im buried in them.


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