130am, making a mix tape, smiling in bewilderment, replaying the day. blackberries. sunlight filtering through comically tall trees. blue eyes catching the reflection. Shiraz from the bottle. the smooth warm wood and fine sand running through my fingers. and the other stuff.
if I don't think about it, I won't worry that it's absolutely the wrong idea.
*
we did various complicated steps in Lindy tonight. I'm going to miss that class- the onus of my new schedule. my second massage shift is tomorrow. camper van Beethoven and cracker after- my 4th time seeing them.
I spent the gift certificate I won at work: I bought another bukowski and a coloring book of Victorian homes.
that pretty much says everything. I'm easy like that.
*
I was walking down the exorcist stairs by my lair tonight- so dark I had to feel for each step. and I remembered how the novelty of freedom, of being able to do whatever the fuck I want, is something I comfortably take for granted now. and I grinned into the blackness. John lee hooker was singing "boom boom" in my headphones, the skyline twinkled below me, and I was, AM, very fucking grateful and in love with my silly little life.
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