Day 742, July 14, 2022

Status Update

It has been a busy week. These are things I imagine for the summer: recording an album in two days, drafting a poetry manuscript, finishing a short story, transcending my bodily aches and becoming one with the universe as seen through the James Webb Telescope. 

It is hard to do these things when you are tired. 

My head is filled with things I must remember to do.

Tomorrow, I am going to make a potato salad. One recipe appears to have died with its cook, and all I have is my vague memories, less precise, yet more flavorful than the recipes I have found on the internet and collected from my parents. 

Once again, I purchased a thing and imagined it to be greater than it could be. A guitar, a Yukon Gold potato, a lover, a side of French fries. How can one match up with memory, fantasy, the machinations of desire? Always, there will be disappointment.

When I was a boy, I thought I would become an actor. Even today, I imagine how it might be to play a role. The exhilaration of inhabiting someone else’s body.

Sometimes, I am too frightened to say things I should say and it comes out all wrong.

I might whisper it in your ear, 
when we are naked, 
and you are sleeping, 
and only the cat can hear. 



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