i am smoking my last bowl of weed and watching the women’s olympic trials on nbc.
i went to work but got cut after an hour because it was so dead.
i went to a art thing in an old factory downtown. i had one beer and said hello to precisely three people that i recognized and one person i didn’t know. there were some women in a dance troupe dancing and a band playing music that actually wasn’t so bad but i’d gone alone and there was no one to talk to.
do gymnasts want to live their whole lives in the moment they are catapaulting over the vault, or those few minutes during which they cavort about on a balance beam, or those moments when they are let loose on the floor, or that moment between uneven bars, when they are suspended in air? the way i want to live my whole life in the page as it comes together?
i have religious inclinations. as the christians say i live my life in the word. old habits die hard.
i never want to write another thing addressed to you because what a waste.
what a waste.