Sounds Like a Plan
Today is a heavenly little slice of sunshine. I must warn all of my diligent reader that I am likely to be full of googlies and lackidasical whimsy for the next few posts, as I’m slowly coming off of a “Holy shit, I think I’m starry-eyed-wow and what do I do about it?”
I smoke, that’s what. Lots and lots of cigarettes, hole in my throat burning cigarettes, and warm tea, and hot tea, and cold tea after awhile.
This weekend we were laying on the beach, Lake Erie sands, just off the peninsula, her dog was running around the beach eating people’s picnic goods and jumping, mud and wet stank, all over sunbathing housewives. The two of us, completely covered in sand and muck and stink from the previous night of drinking and campfire sweat, were laying around in the sticking sand and I was suddenly overcome with a very real and clear vision of the wind blowing the shore up over us, our limbs and back covered with the sand, and then the water coming up later that night to drown us, the moon winking a thousand secret wishes over the lake. Autumn would come and let leaves fall all over the world, and then the snow, and I might open my eyes for a moment to see if Santa realizes the present I have, but eventually the ice would freeze us over and we’d wake up a thousand years into the future, sometime when things like States and time and previous plans wouldn’t be able to put so much apart between us.
I’m certain to be live and wired for at least the rest of the day, if not the week…