rexx

i have been in this wierd doubtful mood for the past few days....

then i woke up this morning early enough to accidentally watch the sunrise out here in the sticks, through my blinds, while i continued to swim around in my black abyss of a bed...

i then was overcome by a mysterious surge of energy and pranced around naked blasting led zeppelin all morning and re-found clarity.

then i sold some more things. and am continuing to weed out everything but the bare necessities and certain trinkets i feel i can't part with for whatever reason.

am i really doing this??

i think i am...



well i'm going to go get the breathalyzer taken out of my car. one step closer to putting all of that mess behind me. in the meantime.....

some thoughts i found jotted down from the middle of the night, sometime in late april...


i've always shunned the idea of drinking warm milk to help soothe the mind and body to sleep. with so many issues falling asleep over the years and enjoying this first ever glass only right now, i'm really unsure why.

stubbornness, the subconscious 'need' to fulfill some expectation...

try everything once, i've always said and done. i'll pack my bags and move on a whim, sit in a jail cell, have threesomes on x with psychotic swingers i met through a roommate ad, try most any drug, get naked on the internet, consume ungodly quantities of alcohol, and on and on but god forbid, THIS.

here i was a fucking pussy and a hypocrite over the calming properties of warm milk.

sweet to the taste and my eyes are beginning to shut as my heartbeat lessens finally and rain slows life and everywhere becomes a hiding place and we can all sleep easy now because life is going on...

drugs and drink really appeal far less to me, now.

i guess i've always just been seeking the raw and the real form of things (though the drugs were often cut and booze a knowingly filthy delight) but indeed every moment sweet even those most bitter in their sweetness (because things happen as they will).

raw and real.

but i denied the word encompassing these both for years, purity.

pure things hold great highs.

a fugitive from the law and all this time i was afraid of sipping warm milk and being in love.

i'm a sinner and a saint (meaningless words though really, for we all are) and in whatever fucking existence occurs after death i bet anne frank is drinking hunter s. under the table because well, that's real. i truly believe that all people are good. jesus is smoking a crackpipe next to charles manson while he writes a haiku with a stick in the dirt about the pitter patter of a pleasant rain, and who cares?

i can even find a slight adoration for the repulsive slug lurking next to my bed.

maybe its the warm milk...

or maybe its this overwhelmingly sweet sensation of now discovering a reason to reach out and touch and see and understand and feel and help and experience and to LOVE absolutely everything.

since life has become so good i feel i've written so much less. this may have made sense. it may not have. but either way, its all just thoughts.