Friday, December 23, 2011


Sunday Morning

This is okay, but I crave a little companionship.
A social quality is important.  Laughing over
hallucinations.  Surprise talk with Ben on the
phone last night.  Perrin says “hi.”  I ran after work
rather than in the middle of it.  (Work?)

The air full of Schuyler and cat mist.  I wish it were a
seedy Sunday morning.  But at least I don’t hear any
rain.  Sit inside for days complaining of rain, secretly
pleased to be shut in.

I’ve got lousy taste.  By that I mean everything
tastes funny.  By that I mean this orange juice
tastes horrible.