i knew i had slept in past noon
though i still couldn't understand why everyone
in this cafe
was ordering savory
while i wanted breakfast.
it's the first day this week
i haven't had to wake up before dawn
i disabled
finally
my 4:44 AM alarm
and only for one day.
the world is perfectly new.
tomorrow i'll be back at work
but it's all good.
it's
all
good.
my apartment needs furniture.
i've got three cardboard boxes
broken and breaking
for my clothes.
i've got a few hangers for my sweaters,
but my best ones stay on the floor
cos if they're not on the floor they're on my body.
and she,
she looks the same but now
we're good friends.
now!
she needs a good friend who fits.
a friend, friends, and a blanket for warmth.
the apartment is stuck at 17 degrees.
it's going to storm west coast style today
whatever that means.
i've been here for just over a week.
it feels like months
filled with laughter and intense.
i write this at a cafe called THE END
i need to art.
i need to get living.
i need to know!
it's so cold outside.
i have too many places my feet
won't bring me to.
i'm surviving off carbohydrates.
i think i love my life...
i brought two friends to the drug and war museum:
one was so happy to know about it
he jumped-hugged me on the street.
the other bought
a really powerful
bag of grass.
how can i make my days even better?
i'm looking out
for people
i can talk to.
behind the windsheild i sit in the passengers seat and navigate.
click here to speak to me.