Though it is the same everyday this journey is different and really I don’t make it everyday. No matter how hard I try I just can’t seem to form habits. Good behaviour equates to nothing as does bad. In a way I’m free as can be and in another I’m doomed. I wait for seasons to know how to dress and act and how wide to open the window. All these I's and me's disagree. We’ll never work in this town again. Hey at least my pancake batter’s the right consistency, or, consistent. Then it rains all summer and everything is fucked again. I am considering finding some ways, any ways, and adopting them.
11 December 2012
A certain state helps. Hooded. Face almost fully covered. Why this helps I don’t know. A number of jumpers. Scarves. Quiet. Tea from him. Breathing deep and yogic. Middle distance. Not looking directly at the sun. Not looking directly, letting eyes find focus. What is important makes itself known. No slamming doors. Blinkers. Tiny windows. Just hands, eyes and brain. Make the body warm and comfortable so you don’t have to think about it. I’ve never had a decent chair. I resent all chairs for their indecency. Bed is my chair. Extracting teeth. Blood from a stone etc. Articles and prepositions bore me, who cares what and where. I just want the good words, strung together with a minimum of string.