Our Mutable Selves
04.02.04 - 11:40 p.m.

Feeling: In love.
Listening: To her breathe.
Quote: The idea of becoming someone else for a little while, being inside another skin.

Hear ye, Hear ye...introducing the greatest, the wildest, the most outrageous show on Earth...introducing our guest, our hero, our talented auteur for the evening...introducing the one, the only Mr. Ethan.

Cue the music. Dim the lights. Light the candles. Blow a kiss to Case. Zoom in. And let the show begin.

I feel a little guilty exploiting Case's ravishing success as a diaryland artist for the promotion of my own writing. A little guilty, but not quite. It's actually rather thrilling writing in her diary; it's like a free passport into her soul. It's almost like finding a wormhole in space. Like entering her mind through her earhole, looking through her eyes, rubbing against her nose and forcing her to sneeze. Like in "Being John Malkovitch." Case. Case. Case.

Excuse me while I clean off my shirt from all the brain slime and ear wax. There, much better. Anyway... I've been mentioned a few times within this work of art, sometimes in the positive light, sometimes in a light that is a little dimmer. I don't exactly know what her audience thinks of me. Yet exactly, now that I'm in her, Ethan doesn't really exist anymore. I'm just Case. Ethan stuck in Case. Ethan stuck on Case.

I think what I should say though, before I'm spit back out into reality, is that I applaud you for frequenting this journal. By reading this entries, you're getting to know, in some virtual 21st century manner, one of the most classiest and interesting people out there. And when you ask yourself why you're so drawn to this journal, why you anxiously await each new update, realize that it's because Case is living life with an open heart, with a warm glow, with a smile that could lift you up by your pinky toe.

It's pinky and the brain; it's pinky and the brain. Does a little tap dance..paddam pah.

My foot fell asleep. I wonder what it would feel like if my entire body felt like my foot is feeling right now. Nothing but my head left to feel sensations and experience any sort of reaction to the world. I'd be a floating head, some sort of mythical, metaphysical anomaly. I'd be able to just levitate throughout the universe, hide behind rocks, use my tongue as a spring to leap into the air. I'd be immortal... Hell, I'd be God.

Random thought. Sorry.

I packed up my entire life today. And it all fit into one suitcase. A suitcase that I could so readily throw into the Charles River or donate to some homeless lush. Just reiterates how insignificant all our tangibles truly are. Our possessions possess nothing. We are possessed by our possessions. I feel really light right now, nothing is holding me down. I think Case needs to throw her suitcases into the Charles too. That way we can fly together.

Come fly with me Case.

Oh no, I feel it coming. I have to get out of here. The men are coming for me. No, not the jacket. Please, no. Fine, she's yours again. I'll give her back, I promise.

Such a butterfly needs room to spread her wings. Such a butterfly was created to...just soar.

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