i miss the lightness of my lost glasses. these old ray bans are heavy,

pressing on the bones of my honker. i feel lighter without the life

of pessoa though hovering over me a particular vastation, undone. all 

those personas, and he himself a chronic ghost. kind of a hero though, 

his life an inward quest of the self without self, inventing surrogates 

endlessly until finally giving up the ghost and being one ordinary 

nobody. i'm glad it's cooler. a body was found by the harbor. an abandoned 

boat was found last week. i got a new book by the writer of american war, 

omar el akkad. i got leos carax boy meets girl, jacques deray la piscine, 

wojnarowicz and the simpsons movie.