april fifth. i don't write as much as i used to. it makes me sad, but sometimes i'm certain it's a good thing. i know how to sort things out in my head better these days, and i know how to tell people what they should know. i don't need to rely so heavily on journals and correspondence. i've been thinking a lot about aesthetics. i told michelle this morning that my new goal was to look as generic as possible. i wear used oatmeal-colored sweaters from the salvation army and few adornments. the punks don't give me that "you're one of us" look, and neither do the indie-rockers. crusties ask me for spare change, breaking the rules that punks should never ask their fellow punks for money. i guess my aesthetics have put me outside of the elite circle. it angers me a bit, but isn't that what i'm going for? i told her i liked looking generic because people took my opinions more seriously. i said that i could exert greater influence over them with my words if they weren't distracted by my haircut. i bought a backpack that was big enough to travel with but just small enough that it could pass for a college student's daypack. this, i asserted, was important. people don't treat travellers the same, they're not taken seriosly. i don't want to identify as a traveller anymore, and i'm frustrated by the fact that everyone considers this the core of my identity. i want a home, but everyone else seems to want me to continue endless meandering journeys because they enjoy living vicar- iously through me. i can't attend to other people's expectations anymore. i've always wanted to wear glasses. i think people who wear glasses look much cuter, for the most part.