Strange week. Strange past few days. Stayed up all night and read, and spent today in a not-quite-awake state that in the early going made it very difficult for me to get my bearings and keep my eyes open. Had Indian food and waited forever and forever for it. Went to choral rehearsal and it was disturbingly good and fast-paced, and everything I felt insecure about last week I did great at this week, but it freaked me out. It was too good. Right now I'm listening to Boards of Canada's "The Smallest Weird Number," which sounds like a the warped tape from a 25-year-old educational reel on astronomy, meditative and tranquil but meant to invoke awe and fear, projected to a room of blotter acid and gnawing boredom and uncertain desperation and walls the color of melting caramel. It would be the perfect soundtrack to Todd Haynes' Safe: not the new-age music played in cults, but the otherworldly, off-rocker music playing in the cultists' heads, wavering and echoing and chiming like secret sine waves, both comfort zone and endless plateau of soulsickness and terror.