Notes on Nothing 9.0

"There's food for the thinkers..." - XTC

9:22am
Christ, I feel good today. It's gloomy, wet, and the trees are swinging like it's Minton's in '42. I've got Jutta Hipp striking the keys like stinging scorpions. Scorpion drugs rolling down the veins like dew. The noises of evaporation: leaving the music hall, the wet traffic behind the double doors.

11:00am
I don't feel as good now. Maybe I need to eat lunch. Get out of the building (where so much breaking down happens). I will eat soup or sandwich, maybe express special chinese at the Safeway. Uy! You think I don't feel good now! Boy, I do more whining than the guests at an art museum fundraiser...

11:51am
Back from lunch. Feel better emotionally. Physically, not so much. But as my grandmother used to say, "This too shall pass." How soon, I don't know.

12:49pm
I've got 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6 senses working overtime! especially the 6th. But the 7th (common) feels like it's in a pillow case, in a pillow sham, in a hamper, on the moon.

"Know what my favorite part of today is?" says Irene.

[Pause] "Did it happen yet?" I respond.

"No" she says laughing, knowing I've anticipated her answer, "it's tonight."

"Ah, you mean when the sun surrenders to the evening gloom?" I muse.

"Exactly."

2:02pm
I have bored myself with this blog today. I apologize to you both as well. i should've just posted the XTC video alone.

Today's verdict:
We hit DopeCon 3. But the rain helped. Sometimes I feel like just writing utter nonsense. I'll eat a tube of spaghetti and knit balloons. They are corduroy and from the island with no coast, whose dog has no coat, but pants. It puts the tramps in a trance, you'll see the lamp as lance. A knight's light. A nice light. Good night.