A fragment dated 31/08/03 - 21/10/03
He would wander the halls. Not sure if the humming he was producing was for himself or some audience he would find beyond the pair of doors that would swing outwards into the light of another hall running perpendicular to the one along which his feet now shuffled. He felt as if he would never come to the T. And yet the humming matched the white noise of the fluorescent and he knew he would bend the puppet.
He had shuffled the long hum of fluorescent hall to come upon that phrase. the wrist bends. Puppets bow. To bend the puppet: to fold the sock cloth, pocket it, and shuffle.
He wanted to have blue nails.
And so for day 596