February 20, 2014 § Leave a comment
in trying to retrace my steps to find my phone:
- in dining room talking about dinner
- guitar practice
- mashed potatos / porkchops / gravy
generally, i seem to have a good life. the guitar practice, though, is not mine.
so why do i keep putting off washing my hair? it’s work. that spray from the drugstore doesn’t seem to be making a difference. nothing works except the work.
so you tuck yourself into a little organic ball. grass fed. but i need to know what another city looks like in the summer. i researched trips for academics. i am not a good academic.
i think that all old Honda Civics are in a club together, and we’re all buddies. i forget that this isn’t true. i see another dented silver late 90s jam on the road, i say hey mannnn! mellow mushroom. then he cuts me off! or rides my ass! i don’t understand.
it is so much easier to imagine a relationship like that. i often have very intimate moments with complete strangers. i realize these connections sustain me. there are the friends whose names i know and then there are people in waiting rooms–can barely talk to them most of the time.
then a prism shifts underground somewhere. it becomes clear that we are in a tragedy wine club together or we both shop at the holy shit store. the tragedy barn. remind me, next week i’ll tell you about it.