Listen To Books. Read Music. See Feelings. Hear HERE.

I'm clearing my throat.

For whatever I'm about to write/say, apparently.

I'm here. Still here. Writing stuff.

Sometimes that's enough.

HERE.

Knuckles dug/deep/burrowing into my eyes.

Wiping away the crust of days gone past, every night. Everything.

Here are my ears opened.

My head starting to turn.

Creaking sometimes. Sometimes snapping quickly left to right.

Like old parts in a factory that work best with age.
Like new parts that need to be broken in.

My eyes have seen enough but...I'm a baby. I'm a newborn fucking baby.
Every blink of mine is a lifetime, wanted/used/wasted.

I think that I'm at the toddler's stage now.

My teenage years are going to be a shit show.

GET READY.

Get ready FOR WHAT COMES AFTER THAT.

So...

You came home stoned from watching sporadic meteors and appreciating their presence.

I've been hand-feeding a stray kitty for hours tonight but really in the last month, in the hope that it stays in my backyard so that it doesn't get eaten by the coyotes that have been hanging out with me in MY FRONT YARD recently.

Apparently, homeless kitties are like Kryptonite to you, you space cadets.

For shame. Before you look up, Josue and Jen - you've got to look down. Meow.

Before you look up?

MEOW IS ON THE GROUND.

Your reaction to a homeless kitty was gross.

I'm elevated and looking down on you.

Meow.

I hope homeless kitty wakes you up when you sleep tonight.

A cosmic, saber-toothed, fucking tiger that bites you deep in your hypocritical heart.

Her name is 

The Dreams Were So Vivid, So Haunting, SO REAL...

and then I woke up.

Like, a million times.

I chose not to work today.

I didn't want to.

So, I didn't.

I'm not spoiled.
I work hard and put up with a lot of shit.
I work hard and revel in an overabundance of beauty.
I love it, but...

I chose not to work today.

I didn't want to.

I saw a movie.
I ate crap food.
I went for a drive.
I drove so much that I almost ran out of gas.
I got gas.
I went to the grocery store.
I bought firewood, curry powder, a lottery ticket, TIME Magazine, a lemon, paper towels, orange juice, toilet paper and a packet of blue ink disposable pens.

The movie that I watched was still orbiting around in my head.
I got a text from a friend.
He wasn't doing well/not doing well.
I came home in five minutes.
We talked.
I made a fire.
We talked longer.
and longer...

I chose not to work today.

I'm glad.

My work, my play, does not define my life.

MY LIFE is defined by YOU.

You come to me.
You guys always do.

I'm okay with that.

YOU make MY LIFE BETTER.

By a million times.

and then I fall asleep.

Art by JOCK

I miss every single one of you.
And when I don't think of you.
I don't miss you at all.

All Together. In A Room.

Rocky Balboa

Peter Quill

Strunk and White

Henry Chinaski

Sailor Ripley

Richard Hawley

Hemingway

And James Nachtwey

Ahab

The Old Man

Nemo

And James Cameron

Sorry. It’s late.

Sleep well...

Come back from your trip and trip on what you came back to.

EYE

erased everything that ive written on this
and now im writing this
with no capitalization
or punctuation in this

the 2 things that i wrote before this - i had to save
i had to wrap my head around what i was saying
or TRYING to say

so i saved it
i saved it
it saved itself so
that i can
write more on it

it will be much more
much more than this
because i what i hover over is
not THIS
but the things that i think
the things that you miss

and sometimes what i save
is sososo
much better than this

so i save it

I want to fist bump you with (SNIKT!) extracted Wolverine claws or fist bump you with Incredible Hulk Hands.

the worst thing that i could do is be with you
the worst thing that i could do is start golfing
the worst decision that i could make is to not be with you
the best decision ever that i could make is to continue to not golf