Mark Phillips' Pages: Workbook: July 2010

Workbook: July, 2010

July 31, 2010: I loved her, but she couldn't fill me.
July 30, 2010: "No. Guys, you are not listening to me."
July 29, 2010: Watching the clock.
July 28, 2010: Beautiful spring day.
July 27, 2010: Blonde mother on her cell phone.
July 26, 2010: She made a cheesecake for my birthday.
July 25, 2010: I remember a crying face, a broken heart, gripping hands.
July 24, 2010: "I didn't sleep with him last night."
July 23, 2010: He's funny...
July 22, 2010: Friends - friends - friends - friends - friends.
July 21, 2010: When she finally told me the truth I felt so much better.
July 20, 2010: University of Redlands administrator Jerry Gates:
July 19, 2010: Her images in their beauty...
July 18, 2010: Wakes me up...
July 17, 2010: My girlfriend pulls a boy toward his room by his sweatshirt strings.
July 16, 2010: Five or six very old and shrunken women...
July 15, 2010: She accused me of teaching her consciousness.
July 14, 2010: We walked back arm in arm, her tears fresh on my fingers.
July 13, 2010: She feels she's lost herself.
July 12, 2010: "I like avant garde art. Only not when it goes too far."
July 11, 2010: The shriek of the wind is the song of a million ghosts.
July 10, 2010: Persecuted by all for poor social skills.
July 9, 2010: Desperate for companionship I slept with my friend.
July 8, 2010: She's nervous, anxious...
July 7, 2010: I love her and cannot talk to her.
July 6, 2010: I feel as if I'd been sealed in an airtight bag.
July 5, 2010: Maybe she misses me, I don't know.
July 4, 2010: You're uncomfortable verbalizing, so you act out.
July 3, 2010: He spent summer break on heroin.
July 2, 2010: Lonely, uncertain, insecure.
July 1, 2010: Buggery and farts.