Irresponsiville

It is 2021, and August 27th is a strange day in history. For years this day held much mischief and intrigue, strange occurrences, mystical magical chaos, both of the good and the bad. It happened to my former best friend as well; she would usually hide out. I tended to seek out trouble. Or manifest it and call it the work of the day. Just one of our differences that ruptured our common ground.

In my old age, the day has gone dormant. I suppose I've learned that I have more to lose than I think. Perhaps the eruption of a thunderstorm is as stirring as the forces want to be anymore. Maybe I've lost my magnetism to their wiles, maybe I'm out of favor, the affair ending with the mutually-shared experience with Her.

Maybe something else will happen if I leave the couch. But I'm glad it was yesterday that I drove through the eye of the storm and not today; I'm still superstitious yet.

-Peppah?

-A Sandwich or Sumpthin'

-I Quit This Bitch

-Baby Char-Char Needs Her Ba-Ba

-Peppah? (DJ Chola Remix)

-Spaghetti Cat (I Weep For You)

-My Child (featuring MC Kilburn)

3150 Morgan Ford

Sitting in Chaille's driveway getting sun on my palest pale legs, looking like a true hoosier. I am having predictable trouble not wanting to move right back here. Reasons to be anywhere are difficult at times...but there's something about it here. The heat the fire. It all feels correct. Like my heart's pointer truly is the opposite of a compass. The oblong acorns seem more right, even.

Kris-bitch is coming to get me and I'm supremely excited. I hope that I will actually see Jason tomorrow. I got Cheyenne Chaille + Alyssa too. Steve is acting slightly strangely, or at least I am perceiving that his is falsely or not.

The sun on my skin feels so much like pure life

I want the light

I want the light.

At the Radiohead show 2 days ago I just stared at the bright row of lights.

I think I'm burning melting right into this

spot.

"My baby shot me Down."

I need a Maserati and a Mexican road,

I need a storyline and I could stare at the trees all day long

What use there is for me here? It's what I must discover.

I want to be a vigilante and for what am I collecting justice?

I can't be asked to be static.

I need a plot, a plot as thick as tar, though the kind poured on a definite road, but warmed by the sun to become that squishy thing you press with your aweful, infant toes.

I want never to have to want.

But is there such a thing for our infinitely restless species?

And I'm sitting at West Gibson + South Congress at the workplace of my girl Kris, who might definitely be up there as the world's beautifullest.

I am glad that I am not inclined towards crime, for I doubt I could survive prison's confinements.

But it doesn't hurt to find a way

To appreciate + savor one's freedoms.

I have simple desires, but they are all extrapolations + adventures, they have little to do with staying inside things.

I wish that I was talented enough to survive in a writer's world.

But it's never enough and the world requires infinite help.

I am on S. Congress + it's warm but not hot here, it is heavenly. And Jason is coming to meet me which is a great surprise to my ingrown expectations and it makes me very happy.

Just Like Heaven's playing

Kristen's glowing + we're both happy to be here

I wish she were not working

Monday we drive to KC to see the Cure's finally really final show which will be spectacularly depressing.

Just Like Honey

Just Like Heaven

They've actually followed up Just Like Heaven with Just Like Honey

Here I am in Austin, Texas.

Again, it looks like.

And what really startled me was that it had been damn near 6 years.

They told me it has changed, but as far as I can tell, it's extractingly (sic) synonymous with my (now evidently archaic) memories of it.

I had to go on a long trek for a pen to write this, I had to go on a really far trip for which to find the means to write this.

Have you ever had those experiences? Those ones in which you found yourself startled?

Or where you found you'd been there before but when, the when - the how + why of the distances between you truly couldn't comprehend?

I'm in a crowded place.

Bleachers - the same, other than the fact that the indifferent bartender that I sweated 6 years ago is no longer in its presence.

Hello, place, time - you are a misfit and you make zero sense.

Spatial concerns. Here are all of these Philly kids and that's hard to get.

Outside is a lad I had a millionth of a thought of + then some diminishing returns for.

It's a sea of red, of people; an ocean of friends - nonsense, nonsense.

What is it that this generation wants? Is it the same as all generations else? I have a feeling it is

and yet

I have a feeling it isn't

That it is really truly something else

But isn't that how every new

generation has

ever felt?

Right on Wooten

Left on Falmouth