dear diary,
goodmorning! and such a promising morning. sitting out on sparkle porch, three days from it never being mine again. oh why do I keep my alarm set for 7:30? as if I'd need it! there's a squirrel chewing seeds and chuckking, Ida is keeping it together but she wants to destroy that shit & I'd like her to. such is life, never getting exactly what you want, am I right? so I've made some coffee, and I've got the morning sun kissing allover my skin, and the sounds of rich people's yards getting mowed around me, and that damn chuckle squirrel. I have much to do today. everything for the sale. I made $8 yesterday, diary. I sold neon yellow dirt shirt that advertises a company called knife river and on the back it reads like Singin' and Diggin' Deep. also, a faded glory brand child's bomber jacket, the "hipster vneck" - heather blue dyed purple-orange like pollutant sky, with triangles sewn around the neckline. and the weird robe dress thing, called Models Coat with the pearl snaps & giant pockets & paisley meant for an elementaryschool art teacher. I wanted to write the six-pack story, but a friend came over and then more so I drank the fox beer, 3, and a half of a sweetgrass. then I had a watermelon and a giant glass of ipa. that's nearly a six-pack story there, isn't it. I also made some hummus which the stoners were titillated by, but there is something not quite perfect about it. oh well, dinner: over!! for days!! I had some dreams I don't remember, the cabin of a sailboat, maybe, the caress of a hand lost to me. the thankfulness I have for friends who came by- that isn't a dream- Nickeys shows me a hand not lost. the ones who haven't heard, but who listen. Ian said something like, I don't mind a relationship that's a theater of pain... it is a theater of pain, and a theater of happiness... sometimes someone has to bang their head on the carpet, and then they stop, and then you watch terminator 2, and go to the bar and go to bed... and I'm thinking, it isn't so hard, is it? Kyle & the akron family would urge that love is simple. but I still haven't any choices so I will read a short story in my pretty last-days-of-cougar-den as romb, toom? ooh.
I will wake up,
I will get up,
and I will get out,
and
