I’m in a state. I quit smoking. My glands and other parts are all aquiver. I tore my house to bits and am slowly reconstructing it from leftover bodyparts and Lowes delivery vans. There’s wood on my floors. Something shed like a million leaves behind my oven. I’m not even kidding, I wish my withdrawal-addled mind had been working better and I’d taken a photo. It’s almost as weird as the approx. billion bees behind my grandpa’s microwave.
I swam in a lake recently, in Arizona. I suppose I may have drifted into California while in the lake.
A furniture delivery guy banged on my door at midnight. I didn’t answer. That’s just not cool, furniture delivery guy. You scared me.
I feel like sores are not healing as quickly on me.
There’s a 15 week old fetus growing in the other room. Little booger. It has developed recognizable junk, and we’ll be able to say “girl” or “boy” next week or the week after. I’m curious.
I’ll be 60 when this kid is 20 and my kid will be 40.
Life is weird and weirder and I’m just a damn lens it is blasting through. Maybe I can flex a little and alter its pattern & patter.