(no subject)
i am living the american dream in an
in my backyard sipping lemonade in the company of Hunter S. Thompson. i only hope that the backyard ducks will join me in my daily soaks. ps, you are all invited to my 103 inch pool whenever you want.
while waiting for another Haruki Murakami novel to arrive i'm gonna do light reading of either Kafka or the devil wears prada- we'll see how the selection is.
my days are segmented and by three i've forgotten the morning. around five i'm narcoleptically driving to class. it was really horrifying wavering in and out of consciousness [and the lane] with no control. mint after mint, the peppermint failed to stimulate my brain or consciousness. i should have pulled over but i made it safe and punctual. at midnight i can't remember yesterday. by three am, i am rummaging thru old photos of mexico city and my 25 plus journals. what do i write? what do i think? i only write because i forget. that scares me how bad my memory can be. do you ever sit around thinking, "what should i remember? what can i recall right now?" do you draw it out and write it down, soak the page in nostalgic loops and curves? and i only think about now for a second before i'm blindsided by my tunnel vision for the future, for tomorrow, for next year, for next summer, for my first apartment, for my first dog, for backpacking through europe and studying in spain...
i get tired and i just slide down in the pool and look at the clouds.
tea party
who invited them?
p for picnic
you took that photo?
our sleepy host
in my backyard sipping lemonade in the company of Hunter S. Thompson. i only hope that the backyard ducks will join me in my daily soaks. ps, you are all invited to my 103 inch pool whenever you want.
while waiting for another Haruki Murakami novel to arrive i'm gonna do light reading of either Kafka or the devil wears prada- we'll see how the selection is.
my days are segmented and by three i've forgotten the morning. around five i'm narcoleptically driving to class. it was really horrifying wavering in and out of consciousness [and the lane] with no control. mint after mint, the peppermint failed to stimulate my brain or consciousness. i should have pulled over but i made it safe and punctual. at midnight i can't remember yesterday. by three am, i am rummaging thru old photos of mexico city and my 25 plus journals. what do i write? what do i think? i only write because i forget. that scares me how bad my memory can be. do you ever sit around thinking, "what should i remember? what can i recall right now?" do you draw it out and write it down, soak the page in nostalgic loops and curves? and i only think about now for a second before i'm blindsided by my tunnel vision for the future, for tomorrow, for next year, for next summer, for my first apartment, for my first dog, for backpacking through europe and studying in spain...
i get tired and i just slide down in the pool and look at the clouds.
tea party
who invited them?
p for picnic
you took that photo?
our sleepy host