introspective periscope : peeking inside since Y2K

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enter stage left: Spring

,7pm - fourth of april, 2001: digging on that late night sunset

i had no sooner slipped between the soft flannel sheets, warm with the heat of blue electric blanket, before i realized that i had not done the one thing that i was meant to do before dawn: take out the orange bag of trash in our kitchen.

those of you know me well might not even know some things about me. there is a certain comfort or something that i can't quite put a name to to sleeping naked between warm sheets.

as i heard the truck making its way up our street, i dashed out of bed, scaring an already sleeping puppy. I threw on clothes, mostly backwards and dashed for the kitchen, grabbing the duct taped accepted county orange bag full of our refuse and ran down the stairs, neglecting to notice that i wore no shoes or glasses. blind and disheveled, i ran after the man in the glowing orange and yellow vest. i'm glad that the waste management people wear such bright colours or i might not have seen him in the blur of foggy night. the garbage made its way safely to the truck. "have a nice day," he said to me. sure. i hadn't even slept yet. "you, too. thanks for stopping for me." i made my way back towards the porch light, hoping not to step on that same sharp rock i'd stumbled over just moments ago. i hate how blind i am without my glasses or contacts. its strange to me to think that a few weeks ago, i tricked myself into believing that my eyes were great by never taking out my contacts. i didn't realize how bad my vision has really gotten. deep down, i've got this secret love for my glasses. when i take the time to enjoy my reflection sometimes (rarely, but sometimes) i really like my glasses. they make me look smart. they make me feel like a librarian. i like to feel like a librarian.

my grandmother is a librarian. she has been since i can remember. she used to be a stripper. she is so amazing. i think of her often. i don't write here nearly as much as i think of her. she believes in me. i should call her and thank her for being so special.

i slept til noon. the sun was so bright and warm when i woke. i went right to the shower and sang with the new tape that i made for T. I'm proud of these creations, these melding compilations of other peoples words that so perfectly express everything i feel. i sang in the shower. i opened the window and let some spring in. i like to sing so loud that the people in the alley can hear me. i am a goober.

skott came down from clarion. i sometimes want to go back with him and see my sister. but, i know better: i would be crazy within ten minutes of getting there and be dying to get back to my small town. i like skott. he is a good kid with some misguided ideals, but a good cat, nonetheless. i like his short visits, even if it is only to pick up some kitties or some mister cleans and go home.

when he left, nacho and i walked to mack park. i love it there, especially on days like today when the sun is so clear and there isn't one damned cloud in the sky. i like to look at the blue on the horizon in its baby blue brightness and look up and up and up and watch it get darker. i never really noticed that til a few years ago how it does that. they sky intrigues me constantly, night, and day.

natalie was at the park with her pitbull/lab mix and this little chow and something else mix of a puppy. i remembered when verbil used to be that small. i think verbil really liked playing with xaviar, the bigger pitt-lab dog. he kept pinning her and playing with her and she loved it, i think. her ass was shaking more than usual. my dog is such a slut for attention. i think she's a lot like the girl she sleeps with. *grin*

i came home and we all drank. i forgot how dry it the warm air can be in spring. the breeze dehydrates. i think i might invest in a big old jug of light purple gatorade and when its gone, start carrying it with me. coffee is just too warm on days like today.

so i'm home. i'm sort of tired-ish. class? what class? i think i'm getting rather bad about this one. i've emailed the man. i'm doing the readings because they interest me. i mean...who wouldn't be interested in the philosophy and ethics of mass media and democracy? who wouldn't want to read about how ronald regan gave our air waves to the networks for free? i certainly wouldn't miss it.

and on that political note: could someone please tell me why the chimpanzee in the white house is making world politics out to be the sandbox on the little kids playground? you are dealing with world leaders, you schmuck. we don't say "give them back" when we're talkin' about people; when you're talkin' about fucking spies. but that was just something i had to get out. as my darling favourite fascist would say: war is good for the economy. the dow is one point away from a bear market. lovely. those wnating to head north to vancouver, please drop me a line.

i think i'm going to dive into making more tapes. i love this. it could very well be my new favourite past time.

be well, cats. mark, take your medicine.

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.what came before. - .what happened next.

a diamond at the bottom of the drain - 20 october 2017
baseball season to football season, abbreviated - 25 september 2017
the doodles - 11 july 2017
at arm's length - 4 july 2017
like a sea-mammal needs a bicycle - 30 may 2017

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