on may 27, 2004, i apparently wrote myself a letter on futureme.org. it just showed up in my mailbox today. i'd completely forgotten about it. and if the word "svetr" hadn't been in the title, i probably would have deleted it as spam.
it's enlightening. i bet i thought i was being so smart and upfront about things in that, but it's actually brilliantly vague, lest someone read it over my shoulder, i suppose. it's horrible. so i wrote myself a new letter. it's a lot more blunt. it's about yesterday. it's about dancing across seymour street, cheering with persian guys, escorts, miserable german films, and communists.
maybe i'll remember the day. maybe i won't. nothing really happened. which is why it was so grand.