why does the blog call to me in my most sentimental moments?
probably because when I feel downtrodden, frustrated, stressed, cynical, or just really fucking bored and tired, nothing seems important enough to write down.
my sentimental moments, by constrast, seemed to be defined by an irrepressible urge to emblazon them on something that is less ephemeral than my experiences.

some notes on my weekend. important moments to return to perhaps in later date as achashverosh returned sleeplessly to his book of the words of the days. tonight read from the megillah for the first time--more enjoyable that i could have possible imagined. Got to scale a wall and break into Sareet's room when she locked herself out...hadn't done something that reckless and stupid in far too long. what a rush.
gili and seth and greg--the carlebach crew imported from NYC--a soulful shabbat. much more is happening. it's all happening says penny lane. too much is happening--sometimes i feel like all my experiences are just sliding over me. i try to grab ahold of them, but find that i don't have those kinds of hands. what would happen, i wonder, if i did?