warm. sun, babies, allergic reactive dogs, the shedding of weight. somehow the time has begun to move quite quickly, as if it were a distant house on a piece of earth hit suddenly by a landslide. the rabbit hole. dark, no light comes in, the whiskers twitch of necessity, the eyes too damaged to make out much at all. when there’s an app for it they will come.
thoughts of work in california bring hives and intense itching. waves of sunlight, interdependent and caught in this eternal loop of choral mysticism. the scale goes both ways, either it is this, or it is that. i’m no longer sure of much at this stage. the boland’s bread van drove up the avenue, paper-wrapped loaves, hot cross buns at eater. we devour to diminish to deviate from the archetypes of the catholic church. must it be this way? there’s not much chance of it being anything else, i’m afraid.
a word to the willing. perhaps there’s an office chair in the room. maybe not, and then there’s this slanted sun coming in from beyond the nearby roofs. it’s not that i wouldn’t love this lifestyle, or to stay at home and work from there. putting the expectation out in the universe, wondering what will come. often i remark that “the universe will provide.”
days to defense: 8
number of short stories read this weekend: 7
goals scored in second half by man utd: 4
hours of sleep last night: 5
bottles of sharps drank yesterday: 3
days to carpinteria: 69