Saturday, January 08, 2011

What I'm used to

Maybe I’ll become one of those people who writes the same letter twice, then realizes. Oh. Because of how I write notes over and over again in my head, notes that might take me months or even a year to write am I actually write the note it feels so familiar that I’m not sure whether I’ve already sent it. Emails I guess, since notes -- well, you know. Letters. Phone calls: that happens too. But I call more often. Some people call me back.

Coconut milk. This magical kind that someone makes from scratch, I mean from the coconuts. Then he adds probiotics. A secret recipe. Down the street at the yoga studio ayurvedic juice bar. I tried it once, I don’t think it made me sick. So I thought maybe this is it, the oil I can digest. Two weeks later: I try it again. Delicious. Then I’m burping it up all day long, here comes the bloating.

And then whenever I get hot, and my toes start to swell. Somehow I’ve been in a relatively good mood the last two days, in spite of relatively disastrous sleep. I like the way, when it gets dark here, it gets really dark. I mean all of a sudden. Or, I guess the sun sets for a while, setting setting setting but then boom: dark. So much darker than in a bigger city, what I’m used to.

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