Must be the season of the witch
I have had a series of days lately where I felt like my battery was running on two bars of power instead of four. After skyping with Zuzanna at Richard's apartment, or "skype smoking" as Richard puts it, and drinking a steady stream of beer last night, I passed out clutching the tiny body of Richard in my arms and watching Sex and The City 2 which I ordered on demand, and actually forgot all about that until this very moment when I typed it.
Actually, betwixt skyping and slumber, Richard made pasta with butter and cheese which I concluded was a quote "brilliant idea" in my munchie mind. After scarfing up its deliciousness, Richard announced he was "too tired" to put the rest of the spaghetti away and promptly went to bed. I literally picked up and threw the pot of spaghetti in the refrigerator, then briefly contemplated how stoned one must be to not be able to accomplish this task.
Earlier in the evening yesterday I spent some time online with Katie L., on the phone with Austin, and in person with Kate, and in the interim I realized that occam's razor applies to human behavior as well, only with a twist: the shallowest explanation is always the most accurate one. I also realized that "inner beauty" is something that only applies to ugly people.
I painstakingly woke up this morning as I oft do in order to complete another mundane task of feeding the hungry parking meter that is located in the garage adjacent to Richard's apartment. I swear my eyes weren't open more than a slit during this arduous journey, yet I was able to witness the wide-eyed walkers-by who were watching me wistfully, or so I wondered. It's been difficult to remain awake or even happy after a full night's rest lately. In fact, I swiftly went back to sleep and woke up at one in the afternoon.
Lately I've been feeling like a walking zombie, going about each day of this late rainy October post-equinox in a shadow or reflection of my life, appearing to be a definite individual, yet feeling incomplete or half asleep, like a quarter moon, only partially lit. I've missed sleep and have had lot on my mind, and the early dusk doesn't help. It only reminds me of the infinite darkness that surrounds the light.
After co-showering and coitus, Richard and I went to a restaurant and ate a meal, during which I found myself yawning a lot. I assumed that it was due to exhaustion, but quickly observed that Richard's voice is a natural sedative. In fact, as he begins a sentence I almost immediately yawn, as if by a trigger, or compulsion. Coupled with a lack of acute expressions and zero attention span, Richard's mere presence is sleep-inducing, but subsequent agitation seems to be just enough to keep me awake.
When our meals arrived, a pesky fly followed, while Richard killed with one skilled hard to describe hand maneuver. The weather had cooled, but today was just warm enough to cause a rise in bug buggery and road kill sightings, which to me is spooky as it comes just before Halloween. In fact, there is a fly in my room currently somewhere whose buzz I just recently stopped hearing, as it must have finally been scorched by the lamp bulb.
The change of the seasons has historically reminded us all who are living of the delicate balance between life and death, and currently the scales are tipped toward death. Oh wait, there's the buzz again. Nevermind.
Actually, betwixt skyping and slumber, Richard made pasta with butter and cheese which I concluded was a quote "brilliant idea" in my munchie mind. After scarfing up its deliciousness, Richard announced he was "too tired" to put the rest of the spaghetti away and promptly went to bed. I literally picked up and threw the pot of spaghetti in the refrigerator, then briefly contemplated how stoned one must be to not be able to accomplish this task.
Earlier in the evening yesterday I spent some time online with Katie L., on the phone with Austin, and in person with Kate, and in the interim I realized that occam's razor applies to human behavior as well, only with a twist: the shallowest explanation is always the most accurate one. I also realized that "inner beauty" is something that only applies to ugly people.
I painstakingly woke up this morning as I oft do in order to complete another mundane task of feeding the hungry parking meter that is located in the garage adjacent to Richard's apartment. I swear my eyes weren't open more than a slit during this arduous journey, yet I was able to witness the wide-eyed walkers-by who were watching me wistfully, or so I wondered. It's been difficult to remain awake or even happy after a full night's rest lately. In fact, I swiftly went back to sleep and woke up at one in the afternoon.
Lately I've been feeling like a walking zombie, going about each day of this late rainy October post-equinox in a shadow or reflection of my life, appearing to be a definite individual, yet feeling incomplete or half asleep, like a quarter moon, only partially lit. I've missed sleep and have had lot on my mind, and the early dusk doesn't help. It only reminds me of the infinite darkness that surrounds the light.
After co-showering and coitus, Richard and I went to a restaurant and ate a meal, during which I found myself yawning a lot. I assumed that it was due to exhaustion, but quickly observed that Richard's voice is a natural sedative. In fact, as he begins a sentence I almost immediately yawn, as if by a trigger, or compulsion. Coupled with a lack of acute expressions and zero attention span, Richard's mere presence is sleep-inducing, but subsequent agitation seems to be just enough to keep me awake.
When our meals arrived, a pesky fly followed, while Richard killed with one skilled hard to describe hand maneuver. The weather had cooled, but today was just warm enough to cause a rise in bug buggery and road kill sightings, which to me is spooky as it comes just before Halloween. In fact, there is a fly in my room currently somewhere whose buzz I just recently stopped hearing, as it must have finally been scorched by the lamp bulb.
The change of the seasons has historically reminded us all who are living of the delicate balance between life and death, and currently the scales are tipped toward death. Oh wait, there's the buzz again. Nevermind.