haunt me, haunt me, do it again.

and again....
and again.....


don't forget to write.


there is time and distance.

being at the centre of the world

sometimes i am the luckiest guy.
sometimes i think that i am not, but when i think that i'm pretty sure that i still am and just not thinking properly.

there is magic out there.
come close and find it.

i am in kentucky.
i'm getting trying my best.
home...

go, go, go... no wait... no go... go...

no...
wait... go...

arghhhh

through the forest

it seemed yesterday i was living in a jaan kaplinski poem. when the whole town was down about the snow i decided to take advantage of it. i had the entire wood to myself. the crystal snow still falling and covering my tracks. it was perfect. i laughed a little. i think it's best to laugh by yourself.
i'm so glad i found this sport. i could take a few more months of winter now. yesterday was my first day out by myself and i was listening to music and it was this super engaging thing, to be elsewhere, moving through the woods. hard to be pressed by anything...

once you start you can't stop, once you stop you can't start

sometimes you can just get out of bed and pretend you are not dying.
you get up and have a shower and brush your teeth and then put on some pants and a shirt and you head out the door and the air is fresh and you engage with the city by leaping puddles and bolting through the people with slushy feet and wind blown cheeks and you sit down with your coffee and your breakfast comes and you die again.

my piano and your pencils.

they could sit side by side.
i would have an ashtray on top of the piano that you would sometimes bicker about but sometimes we would drink wine and you would stub out the occasional cigarette yourself and i'd never call you out.
maybe we'd have breakfast, certainly coffee, in the mornings and then i'd be off to work and you would have hours alone to draw yourself out of this town, enough that you'd be okay sticking around. i'd get home and you'd be out.
i'd make dinner.
i would play piano and think. i would read my book that i've been reading for years. you would've watered the plants and finally they'd be coming back to life. i've never been good with plants. your key would hit the lock. the tibetan elephants would jangle to life. the switch on the kettle would be flipped and water would be boiled for tea.
you would tell me where you'd spent the morning, i'd tell you where i'd spent the night. they would accompany each other nicely.
my hand would drift asleep atop your belly.
my heating bill would go down.
the bristles of your toothbrush would sleep quietly next to mine.

busy bee

i need to:

• finish the zine
• rehearse 4 times
• eat/grocery shop
• laundry
• finish the bass parts
• fix my amp
• work
• play on the 29th
• open a show on the 7th
• dj the night of the 7th
• play the 8th
• drive to texas on the 9th
• blow my mind for 8 days and fly home
• sleep
• be a friend/son/brother
• eat some vegetables
• make money
• finish a record
• build a little volcano
• x-country ski
• see contemporary dance
• have cigarettes
• settle down