Crystalized soap dish, feelings of togetherness, asking for something that was once considered refuse. Mountains. Daydreams. Ancient oracles. A good cup of coffee and a light breeze.
Wander sometimes into the shallow ocean of forgetfulness. Breathing in the salt of the air and wishing one was asleep, if even for a short while. Mornings are full of possibilities and that makes them the best time of day next to spending time with your loved ones. Let your head run in circles, let your body grow from the earth, as if there are invisible roots holding you to its core. I think of foreign lands that I still haven't been to and I make them up in my head. I don't think I need to visit them to be complete. I have already visited enough public squares, dotted with junk stands selling old medals and the gift shops inside the museums selling silver bookmarks. Will we know the last place we will ever get to visit? Will we know it is the last? Would it make a difference as to how much of it we remember? Or would it upset us that the old carousel wasn't running that day?
I think of Paris but mostly hotel rooms. Some of these rooms had overly complex lock systems but I do enjoy a good lock, so I can't complain, though it scarcely prevents the cleaning staff from entering my room even if I have a sign on the door. I remember barricading myself into the rooms, slamming on the deadbolt before I've even put my bags down. I don't know why that made me feel that I could finally shut my brain off, that I could finally stop performing. Lost mornings. How many coffee pods can I use up before I need to call the front desk for phony sugar? Boredom. Too much thinking. A dozen vampires in a synchronized swimming routine at the high school gymnasium. Will the room provide conditioner for my hair? Or more importantly, will I use it? Lobby-calls, the ultimate silence, van rides to the airport, the companion to the quiet. Sometimes the driver is chatty and those are difficult days. You can only grunt in affirmation so many times or say "No I don't like to dance" before the questions get deeper.
"You must be rich."
Why don't I drink enough water? Is it because it isn't exciting? But living is exciting, or should be, or scratch that-- living isn't always exciting and that is the point, that is the trade in the excitement exchange, and that is ok. But back to water, as water provides life. I must remember to drink more of it.
Where will you end up? Will you leave the city and go to the country? Go to the forest? Even if you end up in a house that you spend your whole life in, eventually someone else is going to be living in it after you are gone. I wonder what that family will be like, or if not a family, I wonder what that recluse will be like, or possibly a group of friends. Friends are important.
Startled at all the choices we have in front of us. I like to think about skies full of clouds, though I'm terrified of heights. I wasn’t always that way but there has been too many tragedies. How do you keep up with all the tragedies?
Mysteries. Short walks around thwe corner to check the mail. Why is that mailbox so far away? I've wandered tyoo much, or not enough-- I can't tell.
Perfect views of old cities, rain dampens the pavement and the taxi cabs skate by, swinging around and picking up their fares. I like driving but I like being driven around even more.
How many masks will we wear this Halloween? Some of us would like to be zombies but we're really just wearing a rubber chicken head, or a goat mask. And that's fine. Sometimes it's nice to be a goat. I miss autumns on the east coast but that is one of the only things I miss. I miss the six weeks of changing colors and the brisk wind. Sometimes you have to create an autumn in your head, but it's not as cool as the real thing.