No easy answer as to how I am already up and on my 3rd cup of coffee, awake and shakin’ and already up on my 3rd arm.biz. My old roommates slept over on a palette I made up for them in the living room… I took all the cushions off the couches and made a palette on the floor and they slept there with the windows open because the August air is so crispy clear & cleansing. I drove over to Harvard Sq. just before 8 this morning to drop one of the sleepers-over off at a job interview… during the drive I listened to Brian Wilson and Bob Dylan square off single to single on Emerson’s listener supported, commercial free radio. ‘I want to chow down my favorite vegetables’ back to back with ‘All I really wanna do is baby eat vegetables…’ I am confused.
No parties for people going to California! We’ll have a coming back to the East Coast party for you when you get back. To paraphrase my soliloquy when I went over the edge at work on Wednesday… “Okay… okay… okay… okay… ok, ok, ok… okay. Okay? Okay… Okay… Okayyyy” ad infintum. Under stress & fatique its very easy for me to run out of words to say, and I stay on the fence, repeating Okay so that everythings Okay. Its fine. I want to get a small gasoline tank for my brain so that when I get really fatigued I can rip the cord and fire it up. Thoughts could smell like freshly cut grass. Because my brain sits on a bed of grass. Better than seaweed, less bugs. Problem is, rabbits eat grass. Have I lost it? Am I out of it? Why don’t I just get it together? What was the name of the 6 foot pink rabbit in that movie about imaginary friends?
I passed out last night listening to Israeli pop music with the headphone cord wound seven times around my neck and the light on. I instructed my old roommate, Liz to creep into my room with this gnarly stick that my sister picked up on the sidewalk in front of JFK’s birthplace and give me a hard jab in the ribs, but when she was one step into my room I was sitting up in bed staring 1000 yards past her. The prophet spoke, “There will be coffee.” I got the pink monkey back from the raw bar yesterday, its name is Julep and it cost me $20. from the Reverend. But the money is worth it because its a very expensive and deluxe stuffed animal. The Rev blessed me and said the Lord would bring back my $20. one hundred fold. One thousand fold, I thought to myself, shaking his holy hand. My breath right now is as bad as it gets.
Riders on the storm who have been paying close attention may note that I promised pictures of Julep. For $20. of course I’m going to take pictures. For $20. I will send you a picture of myself shaving my birth mark with an electric razor, and the money will creep back to you, one hundred fold. The dollars will line your pockets, one by one, inching into your pockets as my birth mark hair grows back up at a creep. The security team at the hotel has been throwing pennies at me in the morning for two straight days. You know the way you can pinch the penny and flip it at someone, thats what they do to me at the security checkpoint. I dance and shield my eyes, because I’m cautious, and would hate to have a smarting wound from a penny pincher, if that makes cents.
I wonder if I will have the power today. I want to be the main man… Does my birthmark hair grow fast as grass?