and this was the day before my birthday. How did i miss that?
(rhetoric)



dammit.







god is playing with a little casio-thingy while i'm working online. She's in jeans, tho it's hot out, and my 25-yr-old Who Tour shirt, full of holes and beat-up as yeh may imagine it to be.
She's long-haired again today too, in caramel-coloured curls, and there's a sharpness about her face. She's been sitting on the floor banging away on Billie Holliday songs, drinking Dr Pepper, and nibbling at squash w/some ranch dip. We slept til 3 today.
Glorious.

i think she may be drunk, but she almost always gets like this when it gets around 100 degrees outside. Especially at the end of the afternoon. Seems that 3-5, sometimes 6 is her daily mad season, heh.
She pauses, holding a sliver of yellow-skinned squash like a cigar, waving to me like a crowd.
"...And here's a little ditty that says everything there is to say about having it and then losing it, 'Stormy Weather.'"
i stare at her, cos it's all i can do, really.
You'd think that part of omniscience would be knowing when to stop.

She drops a note as i type.
i think the discord is tribute, somehow. April was a hard moon.





back to the studio tonight.






.