Car j'ecris en francais
This is the day before I leave for summer vacation. I think I feel everything you're supposed to feel and it might just be the music...but I do.
I think if I had only known. I would have just basically been much more careful. About everything, I would have seen it as more fragile...more pressing. I would have given things second looks. I wouldn't have signed my name so fast, agreed to the finest of prints. I would have been drunk at least a few more times. I wouldn't have had these bouts of depression which are so easily avoided. I would have made the fucking time for all of it.
But, maybe not. I know that in those moments it always appeared as if any other option was ludicrous. It was because I'm living so pre-programmed. Like how I want to look into kitchen witchery. Really look into it, really try it. Really make it my belief system for a while. I feel like it's fair to give such things a trial run. But I worry that my nonchalant, lack of religious practice will be made sacrelige by wanting to dabble around in respecting nature. God, surely that can't be your deal, right?
I woke up two mornings in a row with a bloody nose.
And I wish there was someone who knew that secret.
Like a punishment, I caught a glimpse of heaven and I was Tantalus on my stool. What do you say when you feel a piece of yourself suddenly missing, then spotted, then disappeared. You say, I hope there's some reason to this because I think it is killing me. I would not like to die in vain.
But such baleful eyes do not create a sense of obligation in the universe. They will show you wonders and make you walk the road that leads away from them.
I wanted to write a set of edicts. A code for the summer that was going to make everything stronger or at least less sick. I'm just not looking forward to a different setting that has the same old walls.
Basically, I don't want to fuck up another season.
Still, the summer is a long time to dream. Those long tendrils in the garden keep reminding me to try and reach. I keep thinking they're right, even though there's no good reason to believe.
It's bad to believe things could be anything more than reasonably un-bad, because then things never have the motivation to be amazing. Things are like us, lazy.
