His fingers tore through the drawer's contents, flinging them from their resting place. The papers lingered in the air longer than the others, somersaulting and dispersing as they neared the garishly carpeted floor.

It wasn't there. The meaning of it all: he'd found it once. He hadn't thought it was something that could be lost. The weeks on the road had taken their toll, though. Door to door to heart to soul, selling and smiling and playing his role. He'd forgotten.

It had all made so much sense. The troublingly varied experiences of the world all came together in the kind of beauty that was inseparable from pain, the only kind of beauty that meant anything. He remembered feeling happy when he'd found it, but now there was only hurt. He should have written it down.



Dietrichs rocked me out most agreeably today. Their new album's really something to behold. It sounds good, too.

A huge shout out to Scott Gesser for taking thirty seconds of me screaming into a microphone that was oversampling rather terribly and somehow sampling that and making a full length song incorporating it. When the singing's crappy, that's me, not him. Software Engineering never sounded so good.

-Tyrus Peace