Wednesday, September 08, 2010

Over advertising

I’m in the shower, fading. I’m not sure why I’m fading, that’s why I’m still here. I’m also still here because there’s so little hot water, I’m waiting for it to warm up my body. Sometimes the shower clears my head, but today it just makes me feel sad and lonely, like I was deluding myself before when I thought today was better. But what’s making me sad about this shower? Is it just the way I’m present in my body, or something about all this moisture, or maybe there’s not enough air.

Oh, no -- I closed the kitchen window for a few minutes, and now everything smells like mold. Time to open the window again! Outside, is this really outside? It doesn’t feel outside enough. Diesel fumes. I walk a block further than usual, I mean usual on a good day. I like this block, it’s flat but up high like you’re floating. Actually that’s the next block, but I’m not going to walk further.

Today downhill is more fun -- the air feels fresher, my body is more aligned over my feet, I can feel my pelvis actually rotating in the back, the way I think it’s supposed to, there are pigeons with white and black feathers, kind of startling and pretty, that graffiti corner is getting very glamorous -- I’m a little suspicious that they have some deal going on with the gallery down the street, since that person who made the stencil with the three-dimensional confetti hat has something in the gallery too. Now there’s a big hand, a face eating diamonds -- before I thought it was a wheatpaste, but there’s paint too. That’s when I get suspicious. But at least the store owner doesn’t keep painting it over with beige, cream, tan -- anything but beige, cream, tan, right? Except advertising -- I’ll take beige over advertising.

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