// july
| 07/02/2003 - 11:15 a.m. |

It's fucking July.

What does it even matter to me?
It seems to no longer be a statement of how much time has passed me by, but how much will and will and will.

I suppose it does matter now only because next comes August and by 1 1/2 months from now, don't know exactly when, I'll be gone--from this house, this area, this dream of mine that long ago died anyway.

No school, no sf bay, no future.

It's sad.
But not really.
Nothing penetrates anymore.

There are calls to be made to and conversations to be had with mom.
A lease to not be renewed and my car to be inspected--those are the 1st tasks she gave me.
I say yeah, sure, whatever.
I can't deal with anything.

No reply from C. None necessary--I know.

I just don't care.