Daylight spent conjugating french verbs and listening to soft voices whispering over the tops of these sailing songs or soaring high escalators and wondering what I said and what the others heard and who may have been hiding behind the doors of the casket. The catacombs of bar districts with networks of neon signs and a discomfort and inarticulate description of the world when it is overpowering in its enormity and proud stoicism. human nature more a stunned silence went rippling through the waves until lapped up on shore with fragments of eliots poetry and emerson's short stories when in the unrecyclable days of an arizona childbirth and the sun swept streets and the mild cold weather with rain and the hours too early for my head to wrap itself around the important details of what must be done and I have 10 hours to complete my tasks and I wonder if I can without losing my mind and the fever child will fly through another fever dream and the tentacles of sleep grasp at my girlfriend until we no longer get circadian and get post afternoon when the light bulb does not fit and the posters are poorly fitted to the walls in general when plaster melts like old paint and the foundation however connected falls into the mud below. the sink hole. the cave system. the museum of the dead.
I'm sitting on the edge of the bed. Positioned center in the room with bookshelf at one end and reduced purpose as a collective seating arrangement. There is a random tangle of led-lights shaped like reign beau stars overhead. The high pale white ceilings are rounded at the edges like a dome. my elbows rest on a deep stained mahogany glass top thin table which contains my lightning round summer course books and my calendar and the insane lullaby of an impending Europe trip that is now booked with hostels and hotels and campsites and all of the camping plans disintegrated into a cost fallacy when the canals and rivers and bicycles would not allow for us to comfortably carry all of the weight. (acquire a bicycle and get comfortable before going.) sip of coffee. taste of vitamin c gummy mints. blinds are inexplicably closed. daylight begins at 5 these days. art pieces from friends family myself or magazines spatter the white stucco walls. the carpet is beige. dream catcher. globe. hand woven lap blanket. jazz rhythmist. old shoes run dry through the ancient wash. I broke his heirloom drumsticks because I played too loud to be any good.
