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twenty-first, mar god damn it, this has been such a big fucking good week! i was so passed out this morning when my alarm went off, i called in - sleep-cloaked voice - and asked if i could stay in bed an hour. i was asked, "are you even coming in today?" i was told, "yeah we don't need you." ha ha ha! i fell back into those pillows, i reveled and rolled around in what luck. i was sitting in front of my apartment on the concave cool bench (the concavity collecting the cool?) - so cool, it felt like it was painted blue. when you look it's white but when you sit it feels so blue. the grounds keeper of the church and thus the churchsteps (i'm assuming) was lurking about. these steps are my smoking spot in the sun but i didn't want to test "jesus would let me sit here, man!" on him. not yet. i'm still perfecting it! thus, i was afraid, sitting right outside my managers' always-open door they would take a cigarette from me like always if they so much as sense traces of smoke on my fingers - but all i was asked for was "everything all right?" i guess i looked a little crazy, i was so happy i got to keep all three of my cigarettes! it sounded like their cockatiel (or however you spell him) was trying to sing along with marc bolan. i was listening to my headphones: i think the bird secretly has hearing as sharp as paper - you don't know it's sharp until it cuts you. they must think i'm so strange, sitting here. everyone keeps to themselves so crazily in this complex. it's really sick! i want to party with all the tenants like we're sailing away on a creaky wooden ship that's doomed to crash on a strange azure beach! i didn't mean to say any of this shit, it's just the grounds keeper threw me through these loops. i mean i had actual shit i wanted to say! there's all so much to say. i really hope he refers to himself as a "grounds keeper". i would fall in love with that! jesus, here i go again! i have shit i need to say! i'm going to find a place in the sun first. i'm going to check on the grounds keeper - i need those sunny steps to clear my head. but i'm not wearing shoes or socks. fuck it! so much fucking life to do! ah ha ha! as i was walking across the street, i came upon my boss at the post office, probably en route to her boring ass job. i talked into her as i'm talking into you. joyous! because i only have to endure a fraction of the boredom she sits through. and it's too early to do drugs - i hope she knows this personal rule of mine - cause she said "bye!" to me like i was some deranged bum dangerously telling her to give me some fucking change for the bus. ha ha ha! life is so funny! i can't wait for emily to come home so i can laugh so hard into her ornately black-laced eyelashes that entrap sun. i was going to imbibe in all the sadness that is collecting in the dirty pool bottom outside (those mother fuckers better clean that shit soon! that first splash of summer oh god i can't wait! the losers in this place don't understand that they have a pool - emily and i had it all to ourselves last summer. what suckers. maybe they've wised up by now)...like i could be sad about missing hours at work, missing the money, or finding a new job this summer...but fuck it! you - the you i'm stringing along - invited me to the hipster dance downtown - so hip it's on thursday! fuck friday nights to them! i declined like a thudding fist; i could be wrong but i don't think those people are dancing to dance, just dancing for other people to watch. i'm not into that shit. i wonder if he's caught on that he's always the one who calls me, i never dial his number - i don't even know it! - i just pick up when he rings. doesn't he know what this means? does he care? i wish i was close enough to him, to everybody, so i could tell them all the truths as i know them. i blow the ashes off the steps for the grounds keeper - i pick up my butts and used matches - i'd like to think we're friends now. i'd like to think we'll watch out for each other. |