s u m m e r
rhp
mood music here--->xxx
The Red House Painters play over and over again. "Shock Me" Yeah. I'm actually exploiting the laptop and writing this in the circle window 1:30 AM long again after I should have gone to bed. Tonight I went to read and no one showed up, not even the fellow running the reading.
I drank a cold PBR and sit here now with the pages I was going to read in my back pocket. Waiting for "Grace Cathedral Park" and back spacing ever couple of words from too much drink and restlessness.
A pack of smokes lies to my left on the cement steps and I know that I have four hours before the battery gives up the ghost and leaves me looking for a power supply or a mattress. Conversation only kills so much time these days and it's growing so that I only want to speak again when spoken to.
Or actually not when spoken to. I want to speak all the time but can't find the words. Except in the bright glow of the laptop display after I've long left all human company. And I find myself going back through my older stuff. Following the logs and trying to figure what you were thinking. What I may have been thinking at the time even.
Hell, I don't know.
It seems so unnatural to write on this thing out here. Away from the pen and the paper. Fighting off the spins and just rambling. You know, I could do this forever or give it up in the next moment.
Ever feel as though you've lost yourself?
There may be no rescuing myself tonight. Nothing to bring me back from the brink except the knowledge that tomorrow is another day completely unlike this one.
I'll still miss you tomorrow. And the days after that, but things will intervene and mingle with the emotions. I'll fly. I'll dream. I'll write something, maybe. I'll plan, I'll write letters and not mail them.
I may even dip into philosophy again, but only maybe.
"Summer Dress" Nice cello in this piece.
goodnight 8.5.99