Tuesday, November 02, 2004

Feverish

I am disjoint and out of frame. My frame is shaking with the projection of each state my cheeks are redder than. There are few faces I like least at the moment than the mug of a monkey. CNN is projecting Pennsylvania at the moment. 41 visits, "haha" in Ivan's words. The shadows cast by these projections on asperations are murky.

I voted today. After a mild runaround. A knock on the door woke me up, a wake up call to civic duty. We went down to the New Haven Public, Ward 1, in sunshine strained through yellow leaves. The flesh was falling off the trees in gusts and the smell of decomposing leaves was warm. We didn't show up on the lists. Deterred I headed to safe saintly breakfast and then an exciting English class led by a British intellectual who admitted she couldn't concentrate, wait for the day to be over, and asked us seriously who Spenser would have voted for. She took us to the text and demanded evidence nothing wish washy, no trusting opinions or exit polls. Too terrified, too scared and sick, physically ill to write cogently. Conservative as CNN, depressed into silence, suddenly the room has started rioting, driven to jumping and shouting and absurdity and insanity by stupidity and the non-cat is scared of us. I'm holding on to hope, but so far Ivan hasn't been wrong, so no shots have been taken and I might want to shoot someone if it comes out as he predicted.