june 18

headache washes away in gentle waves, falling on small rocks made smaller. I met an angel. I met the devil. We had our ashes mixed up and shared close breathing. Crawl space under the back deck where, hideously, animals end up getting caught and dying. Too morbid for this late monday. Woke early to the sounds of rustling bushes. Clanking of dishes. The involvement of others in my own life. We are separated by a thin wall. We both can here all. Sleep on the ground, bro. Casanova with your convertible chevy. Sunglasses made specific for your face. Warped tour nostalgia. An insanity that has no boundaries. Campgrounds farther than the eye can see. The idea of returning seemed so damn casual this time. Instead of checking in. We checked out. I ran. I lifted. I ran again. Light boxes and cataracts. The double plexi, standing on cracking ice. Shelves of it across the atlantic to crash barges into. Read a bit. Visited the bank. (remember the slip of paper in my backpack). headache lead me into a daze and I am forcing the words. My apologies world. I cannot continue. Sleep is necessary. I will write in the morning.