st. augustine and his medieval companions still lurk and loom above my head, upon my shoulders. i still live in the city of man and i remain perplexed. denver beckons me with her endless hours of kansas on the way. a solid day alone with my thoughts and the broken lines that never seem to take me home. east west north south, nowhere to go but everywhere. long internet tendrils lurch into home of mine. now wasting time is even more conveniant. i can now waste away my life, and never leave my room to report it to the world. rain filled georgia one saturday, and i could hardly stop myself from drowning. two months. two infinte months until i can leave this place. perhaps into the fire though. if jobs nor rent-free apartment do not appear in the city a mile in the sky, then it's a sentence of several months in alabamian parental disgust. my own private hell. better to think of a week in denver than the two months i must remain here. lonely drives to denver make me even more. getting there is not half the fun. daycare friend of thirteen years awaits me with a couch and a smile. i wish there were a train.