Saturday, November 15, 2008

there is no me here

i think there is some sort of guinea fowl outside my dining room. wings keep flapping and its a strange voice, not one of a pigeon or even the hummingbird that comes to visit our garden. i smoked a few too many cigarettes this weekend, but now i want to smoke more, because i want my voice to be low and husky and beautiful.

flapping continues. tourism continues.

today i ate brunch at an old fashioned fountain store that had paper straws and vegan options. now i am reading about the space of death which made me look up anne frank and then shed a few unsubstantial tears. the dog is barking because of the birds. cliff calls each of us in my house kid and that really warms my heart.

barking continues.

now i must continue reading for a bit longer in order to reward my voice with that cigarette. then i will hop on my bike and sing as i pedal down the hill where someone is waiting for me.