Anyhow, even after all of these years there are loads of things you have yet to learn about me. That I adore cranberry sauce for example; that I am terrified that I have set an impossible, unachievable standard for myself based off of what, memorization? What is all of this besides a stomach ache and too much wine and a half-shadowed picture. I am murky at best but the brightest shadow is still nothing but a shade of infinity that rests neither here nor there. It holds the beholden and this if it is anything more or less than the search for delicious you tell me what is your amazing, what is your human in the ape suit sipping one more cosmos before you slip into the taxi have to see?
I am fine to mid-line these days. Things are in all actuality working out well in california. I've been here a year eighty days and I think I've learned a few things about living. That's usually about when shits and fans and not enough toilet paper come into play.
Mostly, I keep my mouth shut. And dream the impossible dream, because if a dream were not impossible in an imagination where shadows did not creep and thoughts did not stagger over recollections of almost remembered evenings a decade, no, two, ago.
All of this, these skills, I suppose I am ultimately the weakest because I have learned so little in my life. I can neither hunt, nor fish. I can read a compass; I have no axe.
Anyhow, I wish I had a means to express all that I could. That I work hard everyday to learn how to listen to myself and trust the impulse in me.
If it's late and you're sober, or just a little stoned, and the party is deep into cups
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