hot sssssausages...
i lay in bed at night thinking for the sole purpose of distracting my head enough to make it forget to remain conscious. lately its been this one girl... a fucking friend. and in my dreams we get drunk and hook up. i don't know, its a phase right now, but comforting. a daydream to help me fall asleep.
oh, shit, and to someone else {and you know who you are, sotling}... ok so i can't really say that. sorry.
so i'm sitting in a corner of our beach condo, almost under a table, wrapped in a sheet, on top of two blankets, with a pillow shielding my crotch from the laptop. i'm wearing a t-shirt and i think i might sleep in it, which is weird. across the room, beyond and partially obscured by a smallish couch is a television playing conan in chicago. in the other corner on that side of the room sits a small, fat dog in a big red leather chair {formerly inhabited} who breathes loudly. and costello sneaks out my speakers.
i have daydreams about waking up at night to find someone breaking in. since im behind a table by a wall, the murdlebuglerer wouldn't see me. nor would he hear me as i snuck under the table, behind him in the kitchen, grabbed a steak knife out of a block i would find without sight, and stabbed him violently in the back before he knew what happened. at which point i would wonder if i made a terrible mistake, seeing as i just stabbed a guy without knowing anything much about the situation. however, he is stabbed.
fifteen hours ago i was standing on my grandmother's front lawn out in the country, by the highway watching cars. standing alone, singing fiona out loud, waiting for my rocket. texting the chemistry lion, you know. a week-minus-twelve hours ago i was standing in a church room with my family shaking elderly hands and being told - in equal frequency - "i'm sorry" and "you've grown so much". shortly afterward we would file into the chapel for the funeral. for the first time, i would stand and follow the casket out of a church. when i saw how hard it was on my grandmother, i choked up. the gravesite was modest but beautifully crowded.
forty-five hours before, i was in greenville for the phone call.
out on the front lawn this morning i saw a squirrel. over in the next yard, walking slowly towards the street. he stopped at the shoulder and watched the cars zooping past. from my experiences with squirrels, i know that they will do anything in their power to get run over. i turned my head but not far enough that i couldn't see the squirrel come off his back legs and scurry back into the yard. a couple minutes later i watched the same squirrel waltz calmly across the road while there was a lull in traffic. i guess there's hope for us all.
i'm reading a book about a guy who, with a buddy, buy a frightening old beast of a motorcycle and road trip across europe. he doesn't have glasses so the other kid gives him a pair of world war one pilot's goggles to wear. naturally, i have been obsessively - even compulsively - dusting ebay for pilot's goggles and old motorcycles. i've decided on a new pair of russian MiG goggles and some 1940-1970's triumph or bsa bike. something with smith's gauges... cause thats just fucking inacurrate.
meanwhile, i neurotically check my email and scan my buddy list both being angry certain people aren't sending me messages when i don't really want to talk to them anyway. sadly ironic, huh?
after dealing with an incident involving hollow tubular lawnmower handles and thousands of ants - dum dum dummm - with water, i did much work for grandmere and made enough money to buy my mother a gift. i'm such a good son. wonder if she likes the hartford whalers?
i think i might get up and eat another slice of hot zausage before bed, certain to help me sleep. i need a haircut and a tan and to embrace summer somehow... i think i'm an alcoholic at heart but it's probably only because i haven't drank in so long that i have such a strong urge to do so. at least it won't kill me. {there are a number of you that understand the irony of that statement. well it's not for you. there's one of you whom it is a crack at. to you, hah. {{again i won't say what i was going to say because for some reason i think i might regret it later}} to the rest of you... just forget about it}
i really need to sleep. my neck hurts which just may be meningitis but probably isn't. i want a tequila sunrise from the bar here but i don't want to drink alone. i wonder what i would do with my own alcohol... i wouldn't know what to do with it. or pot. or cocaine. or acid. ohhh man i'm going to get in so much trouble some day {legally and physically}. {and emotionally, although that seems to be my happy norm} sneeze x3.
oh, shit, and to someone else {and you know who you are, sotling}... ok so i can't really say that. sorry.
so i'm sitting in a corner of our beach condo, almost under a table, wrapped in a sheet, on top of two blankets, with a pillow shielding my crotch from the laptop. i'm wearing a t-shirt and i think i might sleep in it, which is weird. across the room, beyond and partially obscured by a smallish couch is a television playing conan in chicago. in the other corner on that side of the room sits a small, fat dog in a big red leather chair {formerly inhabited} who breathes loudly. and costello sneaks out my speakers.
i have daydreams about waking up at night to find someone breaking in. since im behind a table by a wall, the murdlebuglerer wouldn't see me. nor would he hear me as i snuck under the table, behind him in the kitchen, grabbed a steak knife out of a block i would find without sight, and stabbed him violently in the back before he knew what happened. at which point i would wonder if i made a terrible mistake, seeing as i just stabbed a guy without knowing anything much about the situation. however, he is stabbed.
fifteen hours ago i was standing on my grandmother's front lawn out in the country, by the highway watching cars. standing alone, singing fiona out loud, waiting for my rocket. texting the chemistry lion, you know. a week-minus-twelve hours ago i was standing in a church room with my family shaking elderly hands and being told - in equal frequency - "i'm sorry" and "you've grown so much". shortly afterward we would file into the chapel for the funeral. for the first time, i would stand and follow the casket out of a church. when i saw how hard it was on my grandmother, i choked up. the gravesite was modest but beautifully crowded.
forty-five hours before, i was in greenville for the phone call.
out on the front lawn this morning i saw a squirrel. over in the next yard, walking slowly towards the street. he stopped at the shoulder and watched the cars zooping past. from my experiences with squirrels, i know that they will do anything in their power to get run over. i turned my head but not far enough that i couldn't see the squirrel come off his back legs and scurry back into the yard. a couple minutes later i watched the same squirrel waltz calmly across the road while there was a lull in traffic. i guess there's hope for us all.
i'm reading a book about a guy who, with a buddy, buy a frightening old beast of a motorcycle and road trip across europe. he doesn't have glasses so the other kid gives him a pair of world war one pilot's goggles to wear. naturally, i have been obsessively - even compulsively - dusting ebay for pilot's goggles and old motorcycles. i've decided on a new pair of russian MiG goggles and some 1940-1970's triumph or bsa bike. something with smith's gauges... cause thats just fucking inacurrate.
meanwhile, i neurotically check my email and scan my buddy list both being angry certain people aren't sending me messages when i don't really want to talk to them anyway. sadly ironic, huh?
after dealing with an incident involving hollow tubular lawnmower handles and thousands of ants - dum dum dummm - with water, i did much work for grandmere and made enough money to buy my mother a gift. i'm such a good son. wonder if she likes the hartford whalers?
i think i might get up and eat another slice of hot zausage before bed, certain to help me sleep. i need a haircut and a tan and to embrace summer somehow... i think i'm an alcoholic at heart but it's probably only because i haven't drank in so long that i have such a strong urge to do so. at least it won't kill me. {there are a number of you that understand the irony of that statement. well it's not for you. there's one of you whom it is a crack at. to you, hah. {{again i won't say what i was going to say because for some reason i think i might regret it later}} to the rest of you... just forget about it}
i really need to sleep. my neck hurts which just may be meningitis but probably isn't. i want a tequila sunrise from the bar here but i don't want to drink alone. i wonder what i would do with my own alcohol... i wouldn't know what to do with it. or pot. or cocaine. or acid. ohhh man i'm going to get in so much trouble some day {legally and physically}. {and emotionally, although that seems to be my happy norm} sneeze x3.
posted by sunshine at 12:32 AM
1 Comments:
i like your use of the word "zooping." did i ever tell you about my 113 TA, Katherine, and how she was like, a squirrel nut? she made squirrel noises and studied them 24/7 for her PhD and even sort of looked like a squirrel...except for the ridiculous floppy decidedly un-squirrel hat she insisted on wearing. anyway. if you want to say something, say it. if its sort of mean, all the better. i could use some feedback. it feels strange not talking to you every day.
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