(no subject)
I'm doing well, smoking much too much, as always. My clothes are growing big on me, which of course is okay. I'm built to be small, not skinny.
Last night the moon was so bright and beautiful. We took a walk in the hills, all of us, Brandon at the lead. My calendar continues to shed pages full of empty boxes numbered by date ...I wonder if perhaps time simply stops at midnight and becomes measured only by what you induce to it, the sun's rise a subdued reminder of invariable limits.
The cold damp of Winter, which always sends me into hibernation, the slow milky blaze of summertime wafting through the patterned shadows of Spring- yet, somehow we claim to command dates, time, routines, a schedule...
The days seem to be building up into each other, everything riding in harmony on the prospect of yesterday and tomorrow. I no longer count very much by the seasons, but rather the thousands of secrets I must know...
Last night the moon was so bright and beautiful. We took a walk in the hills, all of us, Brandon at the lead. My calendar continues to shed pages full of empty boxes numbered by date ...I wonder if perhaps time simply stops at midnight and becomes measured only by what you induce to it, the sun's rise a subdued reminder of invariable limits.
The cold damp of Winter, which always sends me into hibernation, the slow milky blaze of summertime wafting through the patterned shadows of Spring- yet, somehow we claim to command dates, time, routines, a schedule...
The days seem to be building up into each other, everything riding in harmony on the prospect of yesterday and tomorrow. I no longer count very much by the seasons, but rather the thousands of secrets I must know...