thought you might want to know
These are my days. I wake up late. Or I wake up to the sound of news (in German) and I attempt unsuccessfully to make something of my day. Write that goddamn essay, for example, finish a great many half-written letters to old friends, mail them off. Send Family their Christmas gifts, for god sakes, its summer. Mostly I just learn, though. I read news online, I learn more about Louisiana, about local bands there. Online. I dream of making political differences. Making sincere instances. I try change the world everyday. Everyday I fail. It ends up being mostly sunlight. Sunlight turned green by the flowered curtains, splashing on the grey Formica floor of my room. Sunlight shimmering with pollen and cars going downhill out of Lustnau, before I catch the bus. These are my days. I do not much, but think. I talk to me friends in German. I cook. I make experimental Cajun-Curry Chicken, omelets, jambalaya, Chicken-Broccoli in the pan, Bratwurst Dirty Rice, etc. I dream of being a cook. Of being a great husband. I make plans to do everything. I worship the act of existence, the beauty of being. I'm addicted to technologies that have helped me to realize the diversity and insanity of civilization. I dream of being a scholar. A musician. I read reviews of great books. I sit in the foyer, talk about everything and nothing (in German). I think about words and language, and the poetry that living writes upon the thin paper of memory. I think. I dream. I sit in my chair and hear the birds sing through the thickness of the sunlight. I play guitar. Write songs. Dream of being a musician. I take pictures of the many flowers, dream of being a scientist, of knowing their Greek and Latin names. I hear the world calling me in every direction. My mind looks like a Jackson Pollock painting, an expression of the abstraction of my everyday battle with myself and universe. I want to learn politics. I want to learn French, Italian, Spanish. I want women, with flowers in their eyes and motion in their souls. I want motion. I make plans for Baton Rouge. I have a list as long as my arm. I make plans to visit the local caves, the swimming pools, Stuttgart, the local theaters, the galleries. I make plans. But its mostly just sunlight. The green-golden summer. Tuebingen for Tuebingen. Beauty of being. Sunlight.