these quiet moments, after the insanity so ordinary, I think things like, “I should get ready for bed, now.” when you wet the bed until into kindergarten, what does it mean to get ready? the kids across the street, with whom I shared being caught with matches, in the alley, shared a bed, 3 of them, and all of them pissed it. they had to play outside due to the stench. one can barely imagine their conception of getting ready. snow outside, it’s slow and cold and safe: it is a fact, crime rates go down in snowy weather. [ this could turn into a christmas song ] it often feels better to be on the lookout into a dark, cold, quiet night comfortably preoccupied letter writing or climbing flagpoles. patriotic in any case romantic than to toil away on dreams until machine readiness, on-time in the dark. ‘getting ready for bed’, i think to myself, ‘shouldn’t be a philosophical issue’ but i don’t mind, really.
screaming at low volumes
