east bay

I slept over in the east bay last  night. spoke art that raised roofs. drank black lemonade with grass vodka. spoke to michigan. spoke to a recording of my past. and woke up to drink coffee next to a pool before driving a feast into my office. the day already feels surreal. like i am walking in a poem i wrote. one of those things that's so visceral and everyone finds the profound in it except me. to me its just common sense. the sky is grey in the nice way. the soft fuzzy blanket that means we need to build a fire way. i kind of love it. but i wish i had a fireplace. and i wish you were here too - so we could sit on the rug and play trivial pursuit. drink some good wine and eat nibbly things. our toes baking from the fire and cheeks warm from laughing and sharing the booze.

(no subject)

ok. i give up. it's totally dumb. but i really want an iphone.
gak. suckered by consumerism.