my sins, my own, they belong to me
after a few hours of lolling about in bed, in and out of sleep, turning up spongebob and then turning him down - not because he is pure alex in cartoon form, oh no - well i came out of my bad state around 9 pm. this is nothing new, i do take comfort in knowing that about myself, knowing that alone time, in my beautiful double bed, with my door locked (if i'm in my room, it's always locked, it's just sometimes i savor the fact that much more) will be just what the doctor ordered - short of drugs or anon-amore - and give me an hour or two, and i'll come around.
point is, i then drove through cold rain and darkness, to campus, plopped myself in front of a computer, put some french music on my headphones - and proceeded to have one of the more productive nights of this semester - that is to say, i wrote three and a half pages. now that's a hell of a lot for me, i'm verrrry slow.
i wonder if i have a biological clock. i think it's doing that gut-wrenching electronic buzz - you know the one, it snaps you up out of your empty bed with a sick stomach and rumbling intestines, filmy eyes and heavy head.
there are so many bats flitting about in my head, and they're the same goddamned vermin that've been there for years. i'm sick of them, i know all their smells and squeaks.
anyway, after writing, i drove through chadds ford thinking about andrew wyeth - it was perfect, the road went down low along a creek, and so of course the mist was drifting, high as my car, across the macadam - also i had the good fortune to discover a college radio station that was playing drone and post rock. now i know i've been one to bash the latter, but - boring as it is indoors, when one is driving through mysterious misty forest roads, it certainly is perfect.
and i berated myself a lot, and i ran around the empty baseball field in my head, throwing tennis balls up at the bats, to watch them duck and swoop away - yes, that's how we got down in my old town, when i was a little kid.
i need people i love around me.
well, in order to have that, i need to allow myself to love those who are around me.
anyway, i returned to the apartment with a wawa's sandwich - someday i will write about my love for wawa, the store that saves me, my hunger, my wandering habit, and my weird nocturnal unnatural inhuman hours. and i ate the sandwich and watched roomie's gf's dvd of extras season 1. and something in it spoke to me so clearly, that i can't talk about here, but if you know me and season 1, you may hit upon it in a split second's thought. gah. something must break, now how long have i been saying that? i can say it, but when i approach the wall my arms scream and fling themselves behind my back.
point is, i then drove through cold rain and darkness, to campus, plopped myself in front of a computer, put some french music on my headphones - and proceeded to have one of the more productive nights of this semester - that is to say, i wrote three and a half pages. now that's a hell of a lot for me, i'm verrrry slow.
i wonder if i have a biological clock. i think it's doing that gut-wrenching electronic buzz - you know the one, it snaps you up out of your empty bed with a sick stomach and rumbling intestines, filmy eyes and heavy head.
there are so many bats flitting about in my head, and they're the same goddamned vermin that've been there for years. i'm sick of them, i know all their smells and squeaks.
anyway, after writing, i drove through chadds ford thinking about andrew wyeth - it was perfect, the road went down low along a creek, and so of course the mist was drifting, high as my car, across the macadam - also i had the good fortune to discover a college radio station that was playing drone and post rock. now i know i've been one to bash the latter, but - boring as it is indoors, when one is driving through mysterious misty forest roads, it certainly is perfect.
and i berated myself a lot, and i ran around the empty baseball field in my head, throwing tennis balls up at the bats, to watch them duck and swoop away - yes, that's how we got down in my old town, when i was a little kid.
i need people i love around me.
well, in order to have that, i need to allow myself to love those who are around me.
anyway, i returned to the apartment with a wawa's sandwich - someday i will write about my love for wawa, the store that saves me, my hunger, my wandering habit, and my weird nocturnal unnatural inhuman hours. and i ate the sandwich and watched roomie's gf's dvd of extras season 1. and something in it spoke to me so clearly, that i can't talk about here, but if you know me and season 1, you may hit upon it in a split second's thought. gah. something must break, now how long have i been saying that? i can say it, but when i approach the wall my arms scream and fling themselves behind my back.