“Wish I Knew You...

When I was young. We could’ve got so high.”

Sound on the lake carries. Especially at night. Even murmurs. Sometimes. If it’s quiet enough and the train isn’t passing through. But it’s mostly at night. Voices in a casual tone definitely do. Music, for sure.

It’s amazing what you can catch. Or what’s caught. People who live on a lake know this so, at night, we whisper.

The song by The Revivalists was playing out the back speakers of a boat just now. It was as loud as if it was on the radio in the next room. I pulled out the binoculars to search for the boat from which it came.

My mind drifts. I replay thoughts and moments and touches with (whoever) you (is).

I love the song. And I do. I wish I knew you when I was young.

Covid Poem?

You're the perfect, built-in excuse.

Delaying everything. Avoiding anything. Doing nothing.

I call for an appliance repair.

“Well, there’ll be a wait. You know, covid.”

An acquaintance asks,

“Can I stop by?”

“Uh, covid?”

Coarse toilet paper complaints?

Any toilet paper is better than none.

Because Covid.

I get it. I use it. It has become convenient, so universally understood.

Covid.

Devour

“My Dear,

Find what you love and let it kill you. Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness. Let it kill you and let it devour your remains. For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it's much better to be killed by a lover.
-Falsely yours” 

Charles Bukowski 

I Don’t Sleep Well to Begin With...

So either the added drama from every single angle this virus is pitching combined with the intensely mundane daily things that occupy my time really have messed with my slumber. You?

A few nights ago, Justin Bieber was mad at he. He hightailed it onto his bus and shut the door. I threw up my hood and walked off. No clue what went down between us because I don’t know much of him except “My momma don’t like you, and she likes everyone.” Who dis about?

Last night, I was invited to this fancy party at which a hundred acquaintances would be attending (read social anxiety for stupid small talk). I brought this little pooch I could carry around with me as a talking point. However, I didn’t talk to anyone but bobbed and weaved my way through the crowd until it was time to leave. It took a while. Don’t know whose dog it was. Mine is 70 lbs.

There are many more. These are the two most recent. And these vivid, over-the-top dreams happen in the hours right before sunrise. Additionally, Illinois has 24 more days of social distancing and mandatory mask wearing. YAY US!

P.S. Of the seven books I’ve read in the last 8 weeks, the best have been Trust Exercise, A Ladder to the Sky (most despicable antagonist in recent memory), My Dark Vanessa and Olive, Again (I missed her something terrible).

P.P.S. My comments are fucked up. Someone can leave me a comment but I can not reply on my own blog. Help!!!

What’s going on in your neck of the woods?

Update Response to Jamie:


Being in a more relaxed state (Indiana) versus Illinois, we were able to dine out for the first time on Tuesday. Something normal! So tired of being hyper-aware of others proximity to me at every turn. I really liked Vanessa but agree that i was happy to have it over as well. Wow, your dreams all take place at night! That’s interesting. Mine seem timeless, not day or night. But I’ll try to be aware of that tonight. Hang in there too.