Sunday, September 17, 2006


I've started to live in the parts of the day measured by blocks of paid programming and empty beer bottles. My friends are worried. They think I'm getting ready to slip through the cracks. But deep down I think they know I'm on top of the game. And even if they don't, deep down I think they know that nothing they will do or say could hold me up. I think maybe once I said something about how a man is really only made up of the people he loves and the people who love him. Sure, I'll stand by that. But sometimes you just got accept that love and then tell everyone to get the hell out of the way.

There's lots of pressure to keep moving, forward, backward, doesn't matter because so long as you're moving no one's really getting a fix on you. If anyone asks it's easy to say, oh yeah, well I'm here but I'm headed here. People respect movement for the same reason baby's like mobiles above their crib. For the same reason that they like shiny things.

I'm perfectly still and it's scaring people. They're used to only seeing my face as a blur. Maybe they just don't understand. Once I get started it's so hard for me to stop. Have to choose my races so carefully. Have to be patient. It's coming. I know it's coming I just have to wait my turn. But for now I'm just sitting on the cracks, plenty coming down the pipes, praying to god that when it hits I won't get washed away.

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