jangling, the music is loud, Tina Turner, Dougie, favorite character, sitting in the corner mumbling, guy with tattoo of an axe on his forearm, sketching, someone like Blair maybe—I get tired. I get tired. Hey g’bye. Dougie says. Leave the poor guy alone. She shoots for Christianity. She is a tiny girl, a tiney angel, with tan skin, dark hair, named Angel. Everyone knows Doug. How’s your bike runnin’, Dougie, good? Here I am with characters. Still Life with Characters. Different bike from the last one he had. Everyone seems friendly. Hesitation. No No No. Dougie, Mario, Jim.
Tag Archives: bicycle
march 15, 2007
Talking about unknowns.
Something it is impossible to formulate.
Some negligible instructions.
A new Trek bike. Starting out with faith.
Someone needs to go out and buy thread. I feel the coils of my brain relaxing sometimes Sam’s presence just fosters such reaction, such aversion—I am not coping with it very well, or Stephen Batchelor’s pompous question How would I live my life if I acknowledged I was going to die and Dudley did die February 6. Let’s have some rice and stir-fried vegetables for dinner, except there is no rice, no tofu, and a minimum of greens. Ginger, Yes. Food is still a friend of mine. Last night, at pompous vegetarian Ahimsa fuck I can’t get over Eli’s bicycle and how impossible it is to fix this—how little I really want to talk to anybody