holes in all my socks, this is how I feed/air conditioning is a bit like prison

tue - 830am
3min of your life that isn't a video, only fantastic drivel. but it remains just as awful and demoralizing. unless you are waiting for ice to properly melt in your glass. for whatever reason.

I love the smell of rice as it is being cooked. it is a pure simplicity, along with growing old and properly ripened fruit. smoking marijuana. they have become permanently integral to the continuation of my fledgling condition of stability and good health; the diplomatic incorporation of the one some believe is, "sick in the head." the two of us entertain one another in various manners, sit with different postures, one writes, the other has to brood and has tan lines from where he hides in the shade. sometimes there is no clear definition between the two, moments when one sits behind the eyes of the other, heavily engaged in the thought process. yes, leave all basic motor functions to the opposite and day to day business will remain the same ... the only glitch comes with language translation, a malfunction in both incoming slash outgoing receptors, as english is no longer the primary drive for discourse. on the face one eye will twitch without proper impulse, the surge too great in magnitude. a fuse snaps. and in the resulting darkness the battle rages on between the doctors and the beasts .... can you believe that this is what goes on in my head while I am merely waiting for the air conditioner repair man? what can I say? it's the heat. naked was not enough and the heat crept into my skull last night, through my pours while I was sleeping. I can tell you it infects your whole body, causes one to become lethargic and stoically vicious, possibly weird. and so you wait, diligently and with extreme prejudice as all other plans must be indefinitely postponed or if needed, discarded entirely; it is most likely no coincidence that repair men are always behind schedule. can't shower, can't run out for milk, can't go to work, can't do anything but sit and write and get high with the escalating temperatures. whiskey was created for just such an occasion. as was ice and sex in climates hot as this one. women I credit to the lord.
10:45 am ...

12:30pm
2hrs later and reality has set in. I am somewhat vaguely drunk, still waiting for any human contact whatsoever. or not. I have become acclimatized to the pervading condition. my drink is appropriately dialed down to a level most generally reserved for iced tea, as the condensation on the glass might suggest. 88 degrees now in the house. the sun is significantly much warmer and if you haven't guessed it, the repair man has been here for quite some time, right there under my nose, tinkering and screwing bolts into holes, replacing filters and dust and other wasted parts. little weasel slipped in while I took a shower. the house itself has gone into lock-down. the windows are once again closed, as are the doors. can't say the same for the cracks in the floor, but this is new orleans. how else are the cockroaches to enjoy central air?

1:00pm ... and I'm off to work.


Time of Post - 1:22pm ... still not at work