can’t sleep

Ki,

I was writing you a few minutes ago, but the iBook had a kernel panic, surprisingly, so my notes about how it is 4 am already, and for the love of God, I cannot get to sleep, were lost. So I’m writing again, just so you get this note, something to read while you’re doing whatever in your day, and can think of me; and I do it so I can think of you. Missing you has its pain. That goes without saying. But it also, for me, has a sweetness in it, because it’s forcing me to try to remember you with such power that I can feel you here with me, if that makes any sense. Some things, for example, that I could clean or rearrange, I leave them as they are if they remind me of you.

Anyway, I’m not all THAT awake, after all, so I’m sure I’m not writing too coherently. I’ve managed a copy of SK’s On Writing audio and have been in bed with the ol’ iPod getting through the chapters very easily like that. I’m psyched to have a copy.

This evening read my new poem at the parking garage on the fifth level. It went well. John P. showed up and we chatted for a bit. A big highlight also was that cute girl Angie that you also know, showed up and was looking mighty fine with some other mighty fine girl. She was decked out in school girl skirt and f-me boots with stockings that complimented her already attractive legs. The other was looking goth-ready in a good photo shoot kind of way. So they got up and rather skillfully did a poem/song together that I’m pretty sure made all the males present have to take cold showers later. They were rocking a style that many download and gawk over.

Going out of the house usually leads me into some kind of small “adventure.” I use the word loosely. Pretty much anything outside the house is an adventure if you insist on stretching your imagination. I think it would be a little easier if I had the same cash flow, because I could go out to movies and everything and kind of kill off the pain of loneliness. Alas I am forced to do this in more organic ways. This is the new will of the universe for me, I suppose. Well, on that topic, I’m almost starting to feel these days that I’m actually meant to get out of this graphics business, or print business at least, and do something else. I’m seeking hard to figure out what. Not sure yet if that’s actually writing. The the thought of writing to make steady income mostly horrifies me, but… I don’t know what it is. But I have such a strong feeling that the change is that big in my life, that I’m not to continue on the path of getting burned again and again by all these print shops.

I’m done writing for the night, small Ki. I hope you are well, and am proud of you for handling your teacher in such an up-right manner. Yay little rembrandt!

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