Still not anything yet

there is such a brilliant numbness so easily available. many templates to chose from. I go to the used book store more frequently than the library. I consider writing to be a form of working out. If that were the case I would need to be able to enact an exact line I can not picture before it is done.

Each season is a form. The birds and bees and bugs of spring, the quiet and cold grass in winter. It feels like the warm months will never come. I have negative thoughts that come quickly over me. I have positive ones too.

I’d like to own the music I listen to. This is not the proper way to say this. I can not own others music. I want to own my copy of the music I listen to. I am tired of paying a monthly fee to listen to music. To then continuing to pay that fee in fear of losing my music. Bring back the cd burner, bring back the cd player in every laptop.

Fun in a tragic way, I had no idea, I am sorry for my ignorance. This is mostly a too obvious line. Party of how I hide is by not forcing myself to make sense or maybe this is actually how I remain myself with confidence. Crave for salty and fat, I have not been drinking enough water. I still think about writing as simply a way of copying down some things that happen in a certain period of time.

Last week I found used copies of Himes’ Yesterday will make you cry and If he hollers let him go. out the door for $10 with our store credit brought in, in and out in 15 minutes with a little banter with Eric in between. I need more than a random night a week to do this although others have not let far less stop them. The man of words is unwell, his truck found with keys in the ignition and lights on in the hospital parking lot.