An hour until my birthday. Two until i must go into work for manual labor. The latter takes up much more of my attention, though the former has claim on my concern.

I spent the majority of my day off today scouring the land for books bearing the name Evelyn Lau. The Chinese-Canadian writer has dropped into obscurity and proves time and again to be as elusive as my most brilliant of thoughts. She has recently become an obsession for I and a notable companion of mine, not least of which due to the ease at which the woman articulates the distinct trouble of obsession itself. She remains a figment to us, and will therefore be pursued again.

I saw a man last night as i walked my dog at 1 am. He rode a bike as aimlessly as i stumbled, with a stray gaze and a pipe between his lips. He turned to me and grinned as he rode past my expectations and i. I think he heard me singing.

Faretheewell folk,
-Talthea (7/20/04)