Nobody Stops You Because Nobody Cares

Wake Time: 10:27 a.m. for a very brief conversation with crazy land-lady promptly fell back asleep. Don't blame me my bed is so comfortable, ask the Anarchist.
Official Wake Time: 12:12 p.m.
I'm shooting for at least 9:00 a.m. tomorrow.

Last night was filled with awkward advances and alcohol thinned blood.
Got to love company get togethers.

This one got so excited about night crawlers.
He furrowed his brow and tried to recite a poem for me.
He couldn’t remember.
Through his drunkenness I could still detect his boyish charms.
The nervous checking of the time. The smiling.
Even though I had moved on, he still made me nervous and receptive of
those charms. I was sad when he left, but happy that he was charming
enough to run first.

And then that one.
He called me a red head and then
wrapped his arms around me drunkenly and tight.
Put his face too close to mine.
I wriggled out. Drank more.
Told them not to feed him anymore booze.
I heard him calling my name from beneath the spiral staircase.
I sat thumbing through old records. A loner on my own accord.

That one too. An authority figure. Go figure.
Wrapped his wounds tight, because the medic was passed out in the hall.
Works too much, parties too hard.
Worried about his deep gashes, offered to stitch em up.
Joke.
Tenderly cleansed. Blood all over me. Get me this and this, stat.
Wrap wrap wincing is okay. Stop drinking.
Saved the hand.

I was sad about sad things.
Lonely about lonely things.
fell asleep to sad lonely music.

Woke up and all I wanted was breakfast. Not sad. Not lonely.
worse
Complacent.

But my day took a swift turn towards the bright, the passionate, and the worth-while.

HE had written back. My future sat in his lap, he chose to unfold it like an accordion, and perhaps add some strong notes, maybe an angelic bridge. Is she brilliant? He asked Wiseone. The circulation of not only my work, but my very being is scary. The kind of scary that motivates you to get organized and try harder than you’ve ever tried in your life. What have you got in mind? Let’s meet for coffee. Usually don’t do this for those I haven’t taught or met. He’s chosen to make an exception. An exception for the Last Unicorn? Why their may be hope for me after all. Oh my word.

I think the smell and taste of nutmeg is quite possibly the most comforting smell in the world.

Closely followed by:

My big sister’s laundry
Best friend’s cat Simba
BenGay
Mom’s Zucchini Bread
Swimming Pools
Ex-Lover's Hair after shower
and Blistex Lip Medex

ladies and gentleman … I wish every month had a calendar with chocolates to mark the days. Amen.