joyrider

my world is sharply divided.

in truth, it's not. i perceive it that way, though. i sort things into catagories. i tag everything with language.

the divide in the last 24 hrs:

at 5am this morning i was laying on concrete watching a morning breeze push leaves in loops above my head. i was drinking water and reading haiku.

at 6am i was asleep.

at 3pm i was arguing with a bank of america teller about cashing a check.

it's a learned thing - cutting days up into portions of good and bad. looking for differences. seeing difference is an abstraction of language, isn't it? no? then tell me the difference beween my fingers without saying a word.

i thought about that koan while the teller was being snotty with me. i laughed - not in a "oh god i can't believe this nonsense" way, but genuinely. it seemed to give her pause. she blinked, got her manager, and i got my money.

it is really hot. i am sweating. there is something about heat, about sweat, that makes me want to fuck. not "make love." heat is visceral. i agreed with someone on that last night.

***

addendum:
despite evidence to the contrary, i didn't herf on my cat. this makes us both happy. i shouldn't drink vodka.