Stumble Street

9:11pm

9-1-1. Emergency. Calling all cars. Call IN ALL cars. Call out. Call. Can you hear the calls? Can you hear yourself calling out?

Then why can't I hear myself? Or why won't I listen to myself?


I just reached to the right of me to put my hand on a mouse that's not there because I'm typing on my laptop. "Hey Jude" by The Beatles is playing. I'm waiting my turn for the shower. I'm going to dance. It's something that I love, but it's also something that easily distracts me from being in my own head.

Good thing right now.

Sarah called me out of the blue earlier. I wasn't in a mood to talk which made me feel bad but it was nice to hear her voice. Distance really is a relationship killer especially since I'm not a phone talker.

I hear reports of Randy's recovery. I've seen him. It's still very hard and I read so much of his pain and frustration through his eyes. It stays with me. It stays in me.

Many things stay in me.
I'm trying to make them happier things.
But at the moment it's a slight tilt in the other direction.
joy.
joy.
joy.