at dawn
nightghosts of fields
peel away as dew
hovers,
dissipates into mist.
decided on which place i want to move into. i will live there and be happy. there are trees outside of the window. the floors creak a little bit. i will live there in the cool shade and raise my bed until i can lay with my head on the windowsill as i fall asleep. i will decorate, this time. it will be my haven. exciting, exciting. i want to move in tomorrow, but i must save up more money first. two weeks, day -1.
airplane catching the sun early morning yesterday. like a shining sliver of jumping flashing fish slowed to a bright crawl. the thin, clear upper register of cymbals in the edge of that white light. wha-bam upside the head kind of beautiful. and it not even fully natural. in the midst of fields and farmhouses, bugs and birds, the airplane is the beautiful thing. how embarassing.
i'm going to start making people up and getting to know them. i'd still like to write a book, i just need people to populate it.
going to the neal stephenson booksigning yesterday was fun. strange, though. the power of an author signing his work is weird. i don't understand the attraction, unless the author is dead and the signature is rare. do people think that the flourish of the pen, some sort of hypnotic quality in the name is going to make the book a better read? i can see the desire to meet the man that makes the books; that makes sense. but the signature.. existing on so many credit card receipts and service contracts. where is the magic in that?
off to open a new bank acct. and go into town for awhile. drop off my rental application. fun.
nightghosts of fields
peel away as dew
hovers,
dissipates into mist.
decided on which place i want to move into. i will live there and be happy. there are trees outside of the window. the floors creak a little bit. i will live there in the cool shade and raise my bed until i can lay with my head on the windowsill as i fall asleep. i will decorate, this time. it will be my haven. exciting, exciting. i want to move in tomorrow, but i must save up more money first. two weeks, day -1.
airplane catching the sun early morning yesterday. like a shining sliver of jumping flashing fish slowed to a bright crawl. the thin, clear upper register of cymbals in the edge of that white light. wha-bam upside the head kind of beautiful. and it not even fully natural. in the midst of fields and farmhouses, bugs and birds, the airplane is the beautiful thing. how embarassing.
i'm going to start making people up and getting to know them. i'd still like to write a book, i just need people to populate it.
going to the neal stephenson booksigning yesterday was fun. strange, though. the power of an author signing his work is weird. i don't understand the attraction, unless the author is dead and the signature is rare. do people think that the flourish of the pen, some sort of hypnotic quality in the name is going to make the book a better read? i can see the desire to meet the man that makes the books; that makes sense. but the signature.. existing on so many credit card receipts and service contracts. where is the magic in that?
off to open a new bank acct. and go into town for awhile. drop off my rental application. fun.
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Random Chicken!!!!!
(like the kind you get in church right before the preacher ask everyone to stand to sing another song)