5/10

i. I've lost it, lost this brilliant, adamant, terrified traction that used to teach me how to do things. Used to understand when I couldn't. All these strings, marionette-marvels and oracle-lives that kept me tragically linked to the sides of buildings I couldn't write well about. Kept me strung out at French-Canadian festivals with the names and faces that are running away in August. The eighth month of the year. Lose and learn and leave: life's lovely lesson. I heard thinking, speaking, lying in threes is very Zen-esque.

Why is that all that matters lately? Being this detached minstrel, I mean, without sturdy shoes and without relevant thoughts. The only thing, truly one of the very limited things, running through my mind is 'I'll keep your dreams, you pay attention for me.' Sound, we love sound-- not in the concrete sense, but in the melodic sense. & we love ampersands and we love making money and some people love pissing on your grammar when theirs sucks even more. Accents, God I love accents, too; those are something occupying all these spaces and places in my skull as well.

ii. I'm going to Germany for a year after I graduate. I win the world. The lights and the brights and the darks and the nots, I'm not sure what I'm in for but I am sure what language it will be in. I have all this pent-up energy that is really not energy but more so fear, more or less this trippy, fleeting avoidance of being bored. I think maybe that is the biggest problem that I have.

iii. And if I didn't have these problems I would be bored. The cycle. The harrowing, cyclical cycle, series and strings and strumming stories that we tell and keep and hold. My Zen children, I can only read so many New Yorkers before I unlearn English. Because as the truth of it is we do not own anything, I do not own this but maybe it does in fact own me.