I'm sitting on the couch with my shirt off. I'm staring into the midnight blue wall, thinking about nothing at all.
There's a dog on my left growling his attention to the darkened street outside.
There's a dog to my right, his eyes rolling up into his head and his head rolling back on his neck and his tongue slack over his mouth that is a big smile as he's getting scratched.
There's a rhythm in my head that only I can hear and so these words form a song that you won't hear when you read this.
I'm thinking I made a fool of myself again, and I'm thinking the regret and the guilt is a better feeling than that dark misty lapping that I used to feel. That infinite doubt seemingly incurable built into the strongest wall you've ever felt with your fingers.
That I thought I'd never get past, and I didn't even know why. And I have gotten past something, but there's still a ways to go. You can almost see it like a long desert road curving into a heat blur.
It is quiet now. This rhythm is dying but I heard it for a long time and it is a rhythm that the hot liquid puts into you, and it is cheaper than a bottle of Prozac.
What is happening to us?
But don't worry. Questions lead to more questions but some of them do get answered with the help of time.
I watched the gnats hovering in a cloud over the golden-green grass and I realized something fundamental...that life buzzes dense and thick and this head won't matter and you'll all be alright.
