once more

A list of things Today:

1. this white that is far too white, a sort of bright that makes me want everything muddy, even my coffee. and good thing, because it is.

2. sometimes I feel so close to the edge of things – like the sidewalk has already ended and I’m dangling my feet off the earth like those simple line drawing children on the cover of Shel’s books and I want to unshell the ideas that lie shriveled in my head – puny like mussels and clams and foetal and ugly and funny because we all start out vain and full of potential and I’d rather not be deveined of my lifelines or vanity because I’m beginning to think that a little reckless self-adoration is more than it’s cracked up to be

3. there’s a magic in those first pages of those few books and I don’t ever want to forget it again. there are moments amplified – like someone turned the volume up on color and baked touch to perfection and I sit here in an empty house aching to open my brain and invite everyone inside – “here, I’ll take your coats,” “no, don’t even worry about your shoes – the slush will dry in no time,” “oh make yourself comfortable I’ve had the fire going for ever so long and you’re just on time” – aching in self-contained solitude to knock out the walls of my location and expand my bed – extending the headboard into Thailand and the place where my feet rest into Argentina – and then to just lie there, calm, knowing there’s no need to hurry, I’m sleeping on top of the world and getting to every impossibility is as simple as pressing my ear to the pillow and listening to the dreams of humanity float up through the feathers inside.

4. A bookstore always feels cluttered because the covers of books do a poor job of fencing in the wild minds that penned them and I always make sure my shoelaces are tied before I enter such a place, considering the potential to get tripped up on some phrase or philosophy running rampant and swinging circles round the spinning bookstands

5. I’ve been drifting farther and farther outside of conversations, circumventing them like an explorer, detaching myself from my mouth and watching words waterfall from my lips, splash across tabletops and evaporate. Everything seems a bit absurd this way.

6. I’d like to delete the space between impulse and action. the word should be “impulseaction.” I’m tired of that interval.

7. isn’t it funny how you can never know what you don’t know? it’s like trying to see the back of your own head or feel what it’s like to kiss your own lips or know precisely what it is to see you round the corner unexpectedly – when you’re not you of course.

8. I used to believe in that horse

9. of many colors

10. I think I’m ready to begin