2:19am lying stick straight on Irene’s couch, having visited all the websites I could possibly visit. I’m finally giving in to talking to myself. On Microsoft Word. A blog is the grown up way of imagining friends: writing out thoughts (talking to yourself) via keyboard. There’s something poetic about writing in a journal, but it’s so much easier to keep up with wide-awake thoughts when each finger can type out a letter.
I keep listening for the sirens I haven’t heard all day. Walking around the Mission District I realized I do love this goddamn city no matter how sad the people make me…it’s so hard to go into the city ‘cause you wanna say, “hey, I love you” to everybody.
I was trying to get my ipod to sing me to sleep:
- “anthems for a seventeen year old girl”
- “pagan poetry”
- “only skin”
- “i don’t blame you”
A lot of people are dying right now. All the headlines read on body counts over 80. But I can’t think about that when tomorrow is Monday and everyone knows how shitty Mondays are without having to worry about deaths and the obliteration of third world countries.
I like robots. They can’t be held accountable for what they do because they’re just programmed to act that way by other entities. They lack free will so I guess that means they have it made.
It’s intolerable sometimes, being awake in the city. My eyes hurt from being tired but as soon as I’m lying in the dark all sleep flees from me. Probably goes to that place where all the left socks go. Probably where anything that we always lose goes. Everything getting comfy with newly washed socks.
I really want to fall asleep with this computer on my lap. Be found by Irene drooling on her Gama-Go robot sticker. This guy looks really chipper and I wonder where he gets all his juice. He probably plugs himself into the wall like I wish I could do. Tired? I’ll just plug myself into this wall, read a book while more juice rejuvenates me. It would be easy.
Or I can just learn to fall asleep standing up or while walking, like Tolkien’s elves.
There’s a voice singing in my ear now: “We all do what we can so we can do just one more thing. We won’t have a thing so we’ve got nothing to lose. We can all be free, maybe not with words, maybe not with a look but with your mind.”
I wish it were that easy.