life observations, thoughts

being tired was all that i could think of yesterday. after celebrating until 2 in the morning, i tried to go to sleep but was in and our of consciousness. i’d wake up every couple of minutes, look at the clock on one side (which seemed to moving in 20 minute increments) and then look at marcy on the other side, and then pass out again. i had no problems waking up since i really wasn’t asleep and managed to hit the train on time. i rode it all the way into hamilton station, listening to babies crying, thugsters yell out props and watching the overweight black man in front of me sweat while he snored ever so quietly.

it was probably a bad idea to only take a half day off at work – my head wasn’t ready for occupational algorithms after spending the past 96 hours thinking about nothing overly important. i worked sporadically, mostly interested in my distractions as they floated in and out of view.

after work, i feel sleep. no dinner, no snacks – just sleep. i dreamt of sci-fi-ish stories, secret sexual trysts with unknown parties, and the eventual destruction of the world. thirteen hours and hallelujah.

i keep receiving emails from 1-800-FLOWERS.COM which reminds me of her, and i don’t want to be reminded. i’d rather be making new memories, of a more pleasant nature.

so why wouldn’t greenland work again?

*laugh*

and in less than two hours, i’m headed off to NYC. sometimes i wonder why i don’t just move there.

amidst our many conversations over the past couple of days, i was telling cheryl how the tree in front of my house and i have conversations. of course, it’s a very one-sided relationship (with tree), and there is never any long drawn out communications, but at least i know tree is always there. i mostly chat with tree about the weather and how parking in the neighborhood is a pain in the ass, but sometime i like to tell her whether or not i’m having a good day. sometimes i feel disappointed when she never replies to my questions of “how are you doing?” or “how was your day?”, but i guess that’s to be expected.

it started when i used to smoke on a regular basis; there would be times when i would be too lazy to walk over to the side of my house to dispose of my cigarette butts, so i would resort to flicking it into the street. every so often i would end up hitting tree, and eventually i hit her enough times that i began to apologize to her. and that has somehow led to me talking to her every time i pass her by.

i’m not sure whether tree understand me – i’d like to think she does. maybe that’s why the birds don’t poop on my car when i park under her.

*laugh*

i stood silently in the alleyway between my house and the academy of the dance, staring at the silent black of the night sky – this was something that i enjoyed doing on random nights for no apparent reason. i was appreciating the fact that i was able to wear shorts, sandals and a t-shirt and still feel very comfortable. i didn’t realize the strength of my temptation; nestled neatly between my middle and pointer fingers rode a lit cigarette, its parasitic smoke rising into the atmosphere only after it wrestled and wrangled through my unsuspecting alveoli.

my trek through the neighborhood a few hours earlier in the evening produced several encounters with black cats. one house in particular had accumulated a small congregation of them – as i passed by quietly humming several stabbing westward tunes i chanced to hear earlier in the day, they all sat there seemingly unconcerned with my presence, silent and observing. i took notice that since none of them were moving none could be crossing my path, which instantly cancelled out any thoughts that bad luck might fall upon me. right?

i’d like to think that in most cases bad luck only finds people who are looking for it, but you never know.

*knocks on wood*