Honk If You Love Jazz
In my dream last night, I was having a business dinner. Someone was missing - it was a boy I used to like. His absence made me nervous, so I finally asked Rebecca Guber where he was, and she said, "Oh, he had to cancel - he's having dinner with Miranda July." The rest of the dream found me pacing the back-alleys of a distorted Times Square, being jealous, wishing I was having dinner with Miranda July, wondering what she'd order, wondering what I'd order, wondering what we'd say to each other, realizing that the situation itself felt like a Miranda July story.
I woke up in a cool girl's apartment. I'm at Oberlin, in the library, eavesdropping on collegiate conversatons about Freud and how "everyone wants to skull-fuck" some girl. More later.
Love
Dan
I woke up in a cool girl's apartment. I'm at Oberlin, in the library, eavesdropping on collegiate conversatons about Freud and how "everyone wants to skull-fuck" some girl. More later.
Love
Dan



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