i went for a walk down the street in my new neighborhood. it felt like it was going to rain soon. i wish i was riding my bike. i walked just two blocks and turned around but it made me excited for the nights in may when i can fly down the roads and land where i want and there are leaves on the trees and a certain noise
candles were lit on the tables and we all sipped on warm drinks as this guy with a forgotten named played songs on guitar and banjo and something made you laugh really hard, and i found out later it was the way dario blew his nose and we each ate half a sandwich that had figs sandwiched in the middle and walked down the street to where i parked my car
we were laying on my bed, the sun had already came up i think and the way the flame was dancing on the ceiling it seemed it was dancing to the spinning record and we were a little bit drunk off of shot gunning beer and a bottle of wine and a little bit too relaxed and we watched it until you grabbed my face and kissed me and that was all you did and you said good night although it was morning and we only had four hours left to sleep
you assumed i would drive you home and i told you my secrets. the classical station was playing, as usual when you are in the seat next to me, and i drive all the way to black forest, and i dont complain, as usual, and i hope you will accompany me at that acoustic show tomorrow night and my head feels heavy but i want to learn more numbers and study the ones ive learned because i am having a hard time with them. my feet touch each other and i meditate on the feeling and the sound of my bracelet as it hits the surface of my laptop as i type all of this out and i can hear the water flowing from all the 9 apartments and my room glows like some kind of sea creature and i hope that youre ok and i hope you decide to join us and please just don’t give up when there is something for you here.
there was a tiny dog outside. i sat at the seat by the window practicing my adjectives. i sipped an iced americano. people walked in and out, leaning their bikes against the exterior of urban steam. i smiled at a man and he didn’t smile back. i went outside and pet the tiny dog and saw a triangle bookshelf locked to the building.
it never rains here, except during rain season which is one week in september but it was sprinkling tonight as i sat on their steps outside their house and i saw his brothers mustache way across the bar
the flowers that were only black figures danced just barely touching the calamitous sky as i sit in the car and wait for a friend who left to receive bad news and i cross my legs until that isn’t comfortable anymore and i pull my knees to my chest and i see him walking back to the car from the side mirrors and we sit across from each other at the chinese food restaurant, the one down on fillmore.