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"Remember sleep? He used to come around once in a while, and I was always happy to see him, but lately, I don't know, it seems like he's been avoiding me." There's all of this music, all around me. I go to look for it, and I bring it home with me, and then can't make myself listen. Sometimes it's hard to start what you don't want to end. I've started listening to some of it. It's like I've had the answers to all of the questions I don't know how to ask tucked right here in my pockets. I've noticed that the difference between clever and terrible barely exists sometimes. And then I remember why it's like this. I'm trying to edge myself away from terrible, but the floor here is awfully slanty. Sometimes it's too hard to look directly at the thing I'm thinking of, and I have to approach it circularly. Sometimes I'm grateful for the distance. Yesterday afternoon Jackpot rolled his eyes at me, and I deserved it. I was standing in his apartment waiting for him to get his shoes on and find his keys so that we could go eat, and when he wasn't moving fast enough for me, I whined, "Hurry up! I haven't had anything to eat all year!" I couldn't resist. Or wouldn't. It's strange to remember something that never happened, not even in a dream. It's stranger when someone else remembers it too. But this happened once before, didn't it? Not the thing that I'm remembering, but that I remembered something that hadn't happened, and he did too. Except that he wasn't so much remembering as he was actually living... Sam said that I am "the embodiment of tentativeness!" Is it wrong that I'm so terribly flattered by that? Ha! I'm even being tentative about that. This is all very disorganized, isn't it? I should probably stay away from here until I've managed to get some more sleep. Tired and scattered though I may be, I'm happy. Sometimes I think that there's nothing that I need that I don't already have. I guess this is one of those times. p.s. I hope it's good to be home.
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