Workbook: September, 2005
- September 30, 2005: I'm settin on the fukkin plane right now waitin to fukkin take off.
- September 29, 2005: Strange girl.
- September 28, 2005: Why do you think of her now?
- September 27, 2005: Sits by herself on a tuft of grass...
- September 26, 2005: Middleaged with pimples, heavyset, red pony tail.
- September 25, 2005: White-blonde, elderly, beer belly in flower print.
- September 24, 2005: Naturally, she failed.
- September 23, 2005: "I chose him because he was the man who was the most unlike you that I could find."
- September 22, 2005: Your grandfather's watch.
- September 21, 2005: Regrets.
- September 20, 2005: It looks like the crows have a good life here.
- September 19, 2005: Return to an old job.
- September 18, 2005: We are all messages.
- September 17, 2005: We went to Nevada City for the weekend...
- September 16, 2005: "A murder-suicide pact..."
- September 15, 2005: Her father was a tycoon.
- September 14, 2005: Shock over seeing her name.
- September 13, 2005: Long-haired man, small, strong, vibrant gecko tattoo climbing one arm.
- September 12, 2005: Journals from before we met.
- September 11, 2005: I hate to write anymore.
- September 10, 2005: "If she'd had more of a spine she'd have been a fine lawyer."
- September 9, 2005: "It's kinda strange and stuff too."
- September 8, 2005: Fist.
- September 7, 2005: Dirty blonde, wavy; black RayBans; iPhone.
- September 6, 2005: Then what it changed.
- September 5, 2005: That it was always false...
- September 4, 2005: It began with abuse of invisibility.
- September 3, 2005: You were right to break up with her.
- September 2, 2005: Electric carts without horns or warning lights.
- September 1, 2005: I bought her yogurt for her yeast infection.