Not In The Past

Looking forward from 30

Ten Minute Free Write: a bonus afternoon entry

The rain comes and washes the strets of leaves, carrying it down to the bottom of the hill.  I think of the protestors in the park getting arrested because the Mayor decided to act in bad faith.  My mind races and I just keep constantly pressing keys, the clack clack clack constantly reassuring me this is what I’m supposed to be doing.  I will sit.  I wait for th ererigeratir hum to just fade into the background and think of what I want to do today, or if I want to do anything.  Hanging around with the fun people that I knew from ages ago.  Trying to connect myself from the serious sober writer to the decadent dandy hanging off of the even more decadent and even more foppish that I admire.  Watching myself grow old in the mirror, and letting my beard growlong, almost Santa-like.  My gestures get bigger and my voice gets slightly more effeminate and I get more intensely joyful and emotional in a coffeehouse or in  abar once I let things open.  Androgonyously awesome people surround us when we sit in the middle of the street and we are transported into this place of vice and insanity.  I will make it in here.  I have my doubts sometimes, and I have my connections, and I think we are on the verge of a breakthrough.  Space is expanding and we sell ourselves short and I just think of it all.  I’m thinking of people I miss, people with great astories and a push, I don’t know where I am.  I want the time to go back and think and thank and find this really intense feeling of flight all the way across the continent.  I want to make you a story or a song.  I want to fully connect with myself.  I am solipsistic sometimes.  I think of myself too often.  IUt’s time to think of th eabstract, the lines and curves and the hard muscles and the glands and the little bits of bioloigy that push together people and just makes them want to fuck.  I  think of the  bodies and sweat and I think of the ambient noise that I think should be ignored but I don’t know what I am trying to focus on.  I want .  I  am.  Being the other is an interesting perspective.  I love being surrounded by ideas and passion and possibility and I fully admit to it./  I walk around and strut and let my wrist go limp sometimes.  F

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