Fresh Air From The Age

“I see a harbor filled with masts and sails, wearied by the sea wind that wearies me.”

Archive for August, 2008

Retire Here.

So there has to be a place that’s completely devoid of anxiety, stress, and communication devices. I’ve always thought that place was homelessness– I have to be wrong. Where’s the place where I can live simply and almost hermetically? Oh it would be nice, but listen, the thing about lifeboats is that they’re made for more than one person… right? Worth it, worth it.



I have no defense, nor great monologue– what to do in that case? What could I ask? Ridiculously paranoia could fuck your stomach for a couple weeks and some regrets could make for blankets soaked in cold sweat. What to do?

Deep breaths are really underrated. Indulge in them, for they are life savers. An anchor in turbulent seas, an instant of air in an overwhelming crowd. Deep breaths are really where it’s at, dontchaknow.

In the next couple months I will be repairing everything that has, within the past year, apparently happened. Living is messy. Worth it, though.

Every part of that van was shaking- locks rattled on loops, steel doors screamed in metal- and with all that noise I couldn’t hear my own thoughts. “Just as well”, I thought. The driver was behind a metal grate and a fiberglass shield, his eyes hidden behind polarized shades in the mirror. I had spent the last six hours in a holding cell at a local police station after confessing to a recent shenanigan. That cell smelled of piss and sweat and the air held a thousand curses of a thousand prisoners. Occasionally,  I would make eye contact with an officer or another through the bulletproof glass, I think it was uncomfortable for both parties. Now were headed to county. Yeah, County Fucking Jail. What a fucking shame. But hey, at least I was gonna have the most surprising pleasure- a phone call.