September 9, 2012
Talking is more exhausting than writing. Listening is the least exhausting of all, unless you’re actually hearing. Not staying in contact with some people, will not hinder any progress. I should not worry about any of these people, they distract me from my focus. All I want in my life is lots of tea but I’m a coffee drinker. Earl Grey and Herbal. Starbuck’s is too bitter. I’m from Massachusetts, I drink Dunkin Donuts.
The sun keeps showing itself and it feels warm through the sliding glass door. There are two parts of me that battle yet could complement each other. I need discipline. I’m planning to go to the Museum of Fine Arts, and maybe to the Boston Public Library. I have had too much excess, not enough sleep. I shouldn’t go to bed at 5:00am anymore. And I need to quit smoking and I need to quit cocaine, and lots of things. Quit is my new word.
I’d like to ease my way into certain tactics. Nobody wants to listen to the meaningless crap I have in my head, so I have to get rid of it, then move ahead, and make this shit happen.
I hear this ringing from somewhere and it’s very loud. It’s coming from somewhere outside and it is somewhat disturbing. If I was a color I would be blood red, dark blood red. If I was a smell, I would be black earth. If I was a mood, it would be melancholy. I am no more, no less, but infinite.
I look outside at the same tree and and see the same branch that presents itself as a gargoyle clinging to the tree in a territorial and active manner. And the gargoyle looks inside at me. By now we know each other well. Last night I sat in the car waiting for Danika to come out of her apartment to bring me her Cat Stevens CD that she’s loaning me. It began to rain heavily. The reflection of the rain slithering down the driver’s side window spread itself over my body, particularly my thighs. The shadows were black on my jeans and appeared as worms or sperms or serpent like creatures rushing across my lap frantically. They seemed to be fleeing, searching for safety and they disappeared somewhere in the car. It was quite a trip. So I stared more and more, I could imagine that the shadows were real creatures and I wondered if I had been insane, whether or not they would frighten me. It was a brilliant storm.
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