March 18, 2003 | 5:56 PM

Today has been a day of wonderful music.

First half = Sean (whose band is called the Leftouts) and whose record I am madly in love with. I feel about his record the way I feel about The Shins O Inverted World or Liz Phair�s Exile in Guyville or Bubble & Scrape by Sebadoh or the Dresden Dolls EP. I am falling falling falling in love with it. Went on a walk after work around Cambridge listening to it on headphones. An anchor strung from every note and heaved directly into my heart, magic and sadness bleeding from each gash. It�s that wonderful.

And like, I know him. Not only do I know him, I LOVE him. And now I love him not just as my dear friend of a decade, but in that weirdo reverent way you love rock stars whom you adore.

And here I am loving this record, knowing that if Sean keeps up any modicum of ambition and drive, he will most definitely be THE NEXTBIG THING�people will be talking about his music the way they talk about Interpol or Elliot Smith. I�m not just saying this �cause I dig and adore the kid so madly� he�s just otherworldly brilliant. There�s only one other person I�ve ever met who is that talented as a musician and I feel lucky to have been able to know people who are that crazy wonderful songwriters. If I do say so, I am that crazy wonderful as a lyricist and most definitely as a singer but damned if I can�t play a god damned instrument any better than a remedial 3rd grader. But I should just shut the fuck up about that since Bikini Kill couldn�t really either and yet they created a revolution so why should I let my lack of prowess stop me? I should get a god damned electric guitar and set all the lyrics I�ve been working on lately to music, even though the songs won�t be so super good�just to have them for myself. It�s a good outlet.

Sean�s record is currently homemade and being given away by him to friends. I am sure that someday the copy I have will be worth 10,000 dollars. Like The Girly Tapes which turned into Exile in Guyville, his current record is the birthing pangs of something truly special�something absolutely wonderful. I wish I could play it for you all. Sean is just� he�s just� god., I can�t believe I am able to know and love someone with such promise.

Then when I got home today I checked my mailbox and there was a manilla envelope stuffed inside. And on the front in scrawly pen was familiar handwriting. The handwriting crawled off the envelope and slid down my spine the way warm beer slides down your throat. I took it inside and sat on my couch, not opening it. Just staring at it. Flipping it around and around in my hands. It was heavy. I put it down on the couch and I poured myself a rum and coke.

Must have a drink before I open this.

Sucked down two Cap�n and Colas. Tore open the envelope with my bare hands.

Inside, there was something wrapped in a paper towel. I tore off the towel. Blank CD case. Opened the CD case.

In purple lettering on a white CD�

Robyn Hitchcock: Live at Binghamton

Nothing else. No card. Just the CD. Perfect.

And so I�ve been sitting here for the past hour listening to Robyn and um� getting drunk. Which is the only way I can listen to Robyn. �cause otherwise it hurts too much. And singing along�harmonizing.

I got a message for you

You got a message for me

We both like Bryan Ferry

And you know what? That�s all I�m going to say �cause I�m still listening to this and drinking and there are things that cannot be reconciled and nothing else is worth saying.

But hey, tomorrow I have rehearsal. I HAVE REHEARSAL. And that paradoxically is real.

I miss Sean.