to his sweet baby jane

lost my innocence to a no-good girl, scratched my face with anvil hands...

I succeeded in re-arranging my room, for the most part, though I dropped my monitor once and really need a place for this second computer. I'm celebrating by reading The Later Middle Ages by George Holmes [the third volume of the Norton Library History of England, I just finished the fifth, on the 17th century, a few days ago] and listening to Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness by the Smashing Pumpkins - never mind, just finished, switched to Insomniac by Green Day, a rather horrible album, but it has historical value for me. It was, I think, the first album I purchased myself rather than waiting for my older brother to get it and borrowing it from him. There was probably a reason he didn't purchase it himself, in retrospect, but I attributed it at the time to being far cooler than him or something. I bought it at the behest of my best friend and partner in crime [don't worry, the only laws we broke involved jaywalking and riding bikes on sidewalks, rather pedestrian affairs]. History almost as ancient as this book, really, and that's all I do these days, recount the histories of my illustrious and fabled life, and a month seems no further than a decade, though each coming moment is the great and final climax.