May 10th, 2012 Walked home from the cafe today. A pretty girl on her bicycle smiled, passed me by hours ago. I see the bottoms of the gutters. My shoe's reflection in them when I step over the curb. My body aches from working graveyard. Exhaustion weights me down like an oil tanker full of lead. It feels good. Had to kick another bunch of transients out of the restaurant last night. How much shit am I willing to put up with? How many more nights am I going to do this to myself? In this uncivilized, desperate age, I have felt the distance between myself and the late night losers who frequent the store offset by the sounds of gunshots, coyote howls and sirens. I sit outside on my breaks taking it all in, swathed in cigarette smoke and still-born intellect from locals and students in the after hours of 3-5am. The pain of having to get a store ready for morning reminds me of having gone beyond myself, of accomplishing things I know I did and did alone. It makes me realize how stupid and petty the world really is. Who's gonna steal my tips tonight?

-Managing a small business.


I can't find her. I keep looking. I'm really just fed up. I want to test and see if my heart can be broken, the way a scientist tests their theories in laboratories - am I as passive as gas or as viscous as a super-fluid....?

This time of year has me thinking a lot about women. I like the ones in my imagination the best. The Imaginary Women. They're the women that I tell myself about when I'm feeling empty and alone. When I get home in the morning, dazed and tired of the sun, I quietly sneak into my bed, imaging the scenarios and transitions that would transpire. I put my arms around her in the kitchen. She's brewing coffee. I laugh because that is exactly what I just got home from doing... It works for a while, and now and again sticks for awhile, until I can drift on to other thoughts.