Just returned from walking big Darb. This was my evening - getting a dose of perspective from a huge blond lab. On my way there, there was one of those red flowered trees that was being lit perfectly by the sun. It was truly just so. On my way back, it was the dusk and wasn't so pretty.
I thought of another trite observation. Jane surfs a bit. I always remember from hearing of surfing that the paddling part is the hardest to get used to...
Oh my columns have sucked as of late. All I've done is whine and bemoan my fate. I have gotten all I needed: a job, an ending.
In March, I thought I had a chance at much more... friends aplenty - new things: bird, big dave, fia, greg, something fun and interesting. Now it's just me and my widowhood.
It's like learning a new language.
All these lyrics I quote are always accompanied by the sound of them in my head. They do sound much more silly when you see them stripped of the music and throbbiness of the sound and sturm.
Blah, blah, and more blah.
I was homesick again today. I think the germans have a word for nostalgia for something you don't really have anymore. Homesick. Do I really have a home besides where I hang myself? Wilmington is more like a fucking brigadoon. Sure, I would have my ghosts and loads of friends and pot... but I want more don't I.
I walked big darb this morning too. I was near that peets coffee place, and drifted in to get an iced coffee. A treat.
It was interesting. I saw all the couples who probably use peet's as their weekend ritual. They likely get the same thing to eat every weekend. I used to be one of these couples. It is nice to not have the stuff to do - the time to kill - the boredom to assuage.
I want one thing the first minute and something completely different the next.
By the time you read this (I am quite ahead in my columns and this is probably going to be posted in four or five days), I will be in another place (in my head). Or will I?