two ends of time are neatly tied

I did this acrylic (!) painting when I was a whopping 20 years old! Look how amazing I used to be!


I take pleasure in clean sheets, and fabric patterns, and the encrusted wooden spirals of the Victorian houses.
I take pleasure in the open cheerfulness of Michelle's face, in children and how their eyes snap with curiosity, in the last days in the apartment.
I take pleasure in luxuriously taking naps and doing a focused nothing after 7 straight hours of alphabetization.

I look at each thing as if it has it's own mystique, lose myself in movies and books and delicious vampire TV shows.
I busy myself with trips and transportation and the connection and reconnection of friends and rides and dates to keep.
I do not feel inspired to paint or draw.
I do not feel inspired to send the books I want to send, to make the musical tapes I want to make, or to work towards the completion of my upcoming art show.
I do not want to examine my own life right now, except to feel textures and see colors and anchor myself briefly to the moment I am in.

I want to live as if the future does not exist.