I bought this notebook in a Greyhound station in Spokane Washington. joe and i are traveling cross country on the bus and we left Portland this morning. I feel good and bland and scared and happy. Fearful of my own brain and everything it may or may not contain. But moving is cathartic and i suppose it's time to start thinking again. Portland felt like a test. Stayed in a 24 hour coffee shop called the pharmacy near a park called Couch. Had dinner with a big tittied blond hip-hop business woman with a cross in her house the size of joe's suitcase, and another the size of a bike. went to a lame emo show at a posh bar. walked over a bridge, saw homeless people and cried. but that may have been the fight. maybe not. slept in the coffee shop. joe woke me at six. got six doughnuts at a place that will marry you. wondered if holy matrimony flavored with sacharine and starch tastes better in the end. they had vegan ones too. now, on a bus to moscow idaho by way of washington. woman's been yelling at her blond son behind me for the last forty or so minutes. she has: short shorts, rolls hanging over, gray skin. it's green here, so green. i want to put everything in my pocket. colors fade.
words. words. words
1 comment:
yes gabreel! doughnuts at a place that will marry you. mmm, like licorice
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