Something

There’s something special and cute about waking up at 5am and just laying on your back and… NO. NO! It’s Horrible. Horrible waking up at 5 and wondering about all different possibilities of a situation, or a dozen situations, while occasionally enjoying a tweet of an early morning bird (that was nice, though. The tweet was nice) is NOT something to do. NOTHING I’d recommend to my family or friends I really like. I waste energy on NOT even trying to enjoy the early morning. Like, ya know, make the best of it and all that. Appreciate, yeah, appreciate the world, the nature, grass and morning dew of it all. Instead, depleting the energy sack I’ll need when the real day actually begins. I’m thinking about being out of here, whether it’s today or the next five years, or what.

 

Thinking about Moonstruck. I’ll also entertain the idea of… th…that. Then I”ll think about Peggy-Sue and Kathleen Turner. Then I’ll tell myself to stop. Just STOP. C’mon, Jeez. Then I’ll think about Margaret Cho and her vagina.

 

One of the lines that struck me from that movie (not Moonstruck, not Peggy-Sue, not Cho-woman) was “Not all of us can afford romance.” I want to afford it. I want to swim in it – drink it (before I swim in it.) Everything is fear. Romance wrinkling up, lives being worthless, waistlines lengthening. Fear of cuteness/shyness stretching out into some large, gummy elastic of hair loss and bad teeth and absolutely nothing published or…done… to make up for it. The fears do not paralyze but they’re there. In the meantime, I’ll work ‘cause my state of mind doesn’t grow on trees.

 

                                                          *           *           *

 

Things I want to do to small groups of people who gaze at the sky at night. Right as they point up and say, “Look, it’s Polaris” or “Look it’s Venus”:

 

*I push them so they fall on their sides, and I go: “Heh Heh that’s a curb, not Polaris.”

 

But that’s mean and unwelcoming. Especially if I want to be invited back again.

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