novembre

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sea legs

modicum of hope doled out through the day. fist-sized fanning your face. i tried to explain how i've adapted to the constant change; how i don't expect it to ever slow down, for better or for worse, and i no longer anticipate or imagine anything on the horizon.

because we tilt on an axis. we are constantly moving; something is constantly on the horizon.

and i am constantly getting ink on my sweaters, soup on my sneakers, cat hair on my collars, bed on my head bed in my head my head is ready for bed. i'm better off in bed, well rested; less seasick.

how are you today?
i'm okay. i'm getting over a monster cold. it's given me this raspy phone sex voice.
well, at least there's that.
at least there's that.

12:11 pm - 04.28.05

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