Exactly that, and there's NOTHING I can blame it on except for the lack of the kind of interaction that I'd like with the kind of people that are capable of it, or maybe its just that I haven't done laundry in a while. Everything stinks. I do like just lying on a slanting terrace, its scales rubbing at the back of my being just enough to not let me get complacent,and there's enough sky too, for once. But that's all it becomes, lying down, there is no scope for extrapolating the way I like to, I'm not hunting for flying couches in my head anymore.
In other news,I touched a dog and I liked it.
Also, fixed my guitar with a little help from KC. The stings are rusting but there's music again. If I ever buy a car, it will be big and blue. I'll notice the children on the streets when I drive past, I'll notice the children on the streets.
Sitting at the end of the divider makes me want to sing Irish drinking songs, and- well who could've guessed- drink.