1956... oh and 1957
sitting in coffee shop again listening to music recorded by french artist who writes poetry before singing it. quite good actually, recorded in 1956. same time as book i am reading, of letters written between jerce johnson and jean louis kerouac. one written december 10, 1957; my mother's birthday. i pop my knuckles in the silence and think of friend who hates it and also of the people whom i can imagine cringing behind me at the fool on the couch with the restless fingers. should be doing work of sorts or being productive, although i define this as productive; moreso than mindless reading/memorizing process. wish this was typed on loud rackety typewriter instead of quiet electric computer. someday i will write magical novel on typewriter and hand manuscript to publisher who will stand looking confused.
cette apres-midi, mon pere handed me a razorblade to transfer stickers from older volvo to old volvo. new and sharp, caught my skin when i felt it. wondered how much easier it would be over old dull forest-knife. oh well, gave it back when finished, carefully. car now naked and lonely, orphaned. i kissed her goodbye and wished her luck, thanking her... and well, its all personal anyways. looked out rear window at babe until house got in the way as i left. sigh...
warming up to the idea that i will be getting high by the end of the year, see it as more of an inevitability. seeing things beautiful sometimes anyway but sounds like an experience to assemble words about. some other part of life regardless, i suppose. had crazy idea to melt chapstick and mix with coke; resolid in tube. wonder what it would do to the lips, curious but hopeless. addicted regardless, to the chapstick, wouldnt change much 'suppose. this year was about being good to myself and becoming good in all aspects and ways. alas, this is just beautiful as well because as all actions are life and all life is good, is it not?
as for life, to love and be loved, interesting proposition. i dont read much between the lines, try not to in these cases. hope but not expect, s'a hard place to be. regardless, must read more and find ways to make social time last longer but work time contract over this last month. should prove interesting, if not suicidal.
cette apres-midi, mon pere handed me a razorblade to transfer stickers from older volvo to old volvo. new and sharp, caught my skin when i felt it. wondered how much easier it would be over old dull forest-knife. oh well, gave it back when finished, carefully. car now naked and lonely, orphaned. i kissed her goodbye and wished her luck, thanking her... and well, its all personal anyways. looked out rear window at babe until house got in the way as i left. sigh...
warming up to the idea that i will be getting high by the end of the year, see it as more of an inevitability. seeing things beautiful sometimes anyway but sounds like an experience to assemble words about. some other part of life regardless, i suppose. had crazy idea to melt chapstick and mix with coke; resolid in tube. wonder what it would do to the lips, curious but hopeless. addicted regardless, to the chapstick, wouldnt change much 'suppose. this year was about being good to myself and becoming good in all aspects and ways. alas, this is just beautiful as well because as all actions are life and all life is good, is it not?
as for life, to love and be loved, interesting proposition. i dont read much between the lines, try not to in these cases. hope but not expect, s'a hard place to be. regardless, must read more and find ways to make social time last longer but work time contract over this last month. should prove interesting, if not suicidal.
posted by sunshine at 12:38 AM
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