raining morning. albany, the gray city.  obsessed with maps, and the itch to drive.  leave again.  i can't remain still. and unless i'm in motion, i feel sick.  not sick, but distant from myself and what i need.  lines blurring on the highway, unfamiliar faces every day, different sunset landscapes, that's my pulse.  not remaining contented here, in stillness. i have hearts and heads to keep me engaged, but there's more to life then just ~ agreeance. 

going to spend my day off walking to the library, and then reading some.  living vicariously through h.miller, experiencing ventilation of erotic, exotic, goodness, through his lines

 

rainy day. calm, with coffee and pineapple pieces to soothe my spirits. mind on my blankets, but body in this upright position.

two days i'm going to be 23. what will happen then? will i grow up then? will i be able to communicate, finally, correct?

my mind burns without intoxication of inspiration. my heart churns without throw against wall passsion. my body learns that without care, it withers, and i have forgotten how to whimper

i take it.

goodbye july 4, hello july 5